Here's the problem with having a ballpark in your town.

It always seems like a great idea; the stadium is a gleaming amenity that draws people and their wallets to your region. A stadium says you're big-time; you're someplace. It becomes part of the community's identity; St. Lucie County, for example, is the spring training home of the New York Mets.

And it's all good.

Until the ballpark begins to show its age.

Other teams are having modern ballparks constructed to their specifications. Your park, by contrast, simply can't boast the amenities of a new park, things fans want. Things that make money for the team.

More: Mets might consider leaving St. Lucie County

More: St. Lucie "committed" to original stadium pact

So the team pushes for upgrades, sometimes a new ballpark entirely. If the work isn't done, well, other towns would love to play ball. There's always some municipal leader eager to drop big bucks on a park, convinced it'll be economic development nirvana.

So the host community for the older stadium is on the hook. Or rather, taxpayers are. If the community supports the team — or if the taxes don't come directly out of the community's pocket, as with tourist taxes — it's palatable.

But if the cost of the project escalates, taxpayers can wind up on the hook for even more.

Public officials might put their collective foot down and say, "No more." But that could cause the team to "explore other options."

Ultimately, it could bolt. If it does, its original ballpark becomes a massive, aged — and empty — sunken investment. Sure, your town could eventually attract another team, but only after sinking millions more into the park for upgrades.

So to use a baseball metaphor, the team would seem to have the jump in this rundown.

In St. Lucie County, we'll find out who's safe — or maybe who's out — at Tuesday's County Commission meeting.

The $55 million plan to upgrade First Data Field, inked in 2017, hangs in the balance. Due at least in part to construction delays, the cost has ballooned, reportedly as high as $80 million.

The county's contract with the team specifically says the team is on the hook for anything beyond the original $55 million. So the project has been scaled back, and the Mets have pledged another $2 million.

But now the county reportedly wants another $400,000, and the Mets are complaining they're being charged for routine maintenance, which is the county's responsibility.

The Mets want a revised contract and financing plan. If, at Tuesday's meeting, the County Commission rejects it, the team could take back that $2 million, pull out of the agreement and begin looking for a new spring training location. Presumably, their High-A minor league affiliate St. Lucie Mets would leave, as well.

County officials say they're "committed" to the original $55 million deal. But who's responsible for those escalating costs? If construction delays that contributed to overruns can be blamed, at least in part, on the county — who's legally liable?

The renovations have been scaled back significantly to stay close to budget. A 360-degree concourse originally planned to span the entire outfield will now be in left field only. Little League fields and a player development academy will be scotched entirely.

The Mets will not be getting the stadium they thought they were getting, the stadium they wanted to remain competitive.

What they will get, they are demanding taxpayers shell out even more for.

The county's original plan involved borrowing for the project and repaying it via the tourist development tax. Would there be enough tourist tax dollars to pay additional costs? If not, might the onus begin to fall directly on taxpayers?

But what's the alternative — bye-bye Mets?

Tuesday's meeting, then, is huge. Hopefully, both sides will see the need to compromise; no one wants to see the Mets leave.

But it all ought to be a cautionary tale for any would-be suitors. This is what can happen when you have a ballpark in your town.

It makes you big time. It also creates big-time problems.