MLB players get a chance to show their prowess and their personality

On Apr 7, 2023

After two years of experimenting in the minor leagues, Major League Baseball trotted out its new rules in spring training. If you’re like me, you tuned in last month to get your bearings, and maybe you had a moment.

The first Grapefruit League game I watched, there were two base hits up the middle in the first inning. I grabbed a nearby young adult and shook him. “Did you see that? THAT WAS A GROUND BALL UP THE MIDDLE. TWO OF THEM. FOR BASE HITS.”

The new season is a week old. I watch the Cleveland Guardians and the New York Mets, mostly. Baseball is fun again. I might even watch the Cincinnati Reds.

With MLB's new rules against infield shifts, Reds shortstop Kevin Newman is among those who will have to work harder on defense this season.

There is a pitch clock. Pitchers have 15 seconds to begin their motion with the bases empty and 20 seconds when there’s a runner on base. A violation is a ball, even if it’s the fourth ball of the count. Hitters must be in the batter’s box and ready to hit by the time the clock winds down to 8 seconds. A violation is a strike, even if it’s the third strike.

There are pickoff rules. A pitcher cannot step off the rubber, or throw to first to hold a runner, more than two times during an at-bat. A violation is a balk.

There is a crackdown on defensive shifts. There must be two infielders on either side of second base and these infielders must have two feet on the infield dirt when the pitcher goes into his windup.

There are larger bases, which shorten the basepaths by precious and beautiful inches.

There are baseball purists out there who are not happy — but then, the average age of a World Series viewer last year was 56 years old. The way the game had evolved, Dave Kingman, a slugger from the 1970s and ‘80s who hit .236 with 442 home runs and 1,816 strikeouts, and who played the outfield like it was a foreign concept, would be making $30 million a year in 2022.

The game needed saving.

Baseball was paralyzed by the “three true outcomes.” Home run. Strikeout. Walk. There were not enough balls in play. Defenses were shifted on the basis of algorithms. Wonderful athletes stood still, unless they were walking around the mound, stepping out of the batter’s box or scratching themselves during a team meeting in the middle of the infield. It was boring.

Do you think the players liked it? Do you think the shift brought joy to their hearts? Their personalities, as expressed in the kinetic energy of their sport, were degraded. It wasn’t a game anymore. It was homework.

Last season, 30 MLB teams combined to hit .243 (the lowest batting average in the league since 1968, which brought the lowering of mounds and the tightening of the strike zone). According to Stats Info Solutions, there were 66,961 defensive shifts employed, up from 2,349 in 2011. The average time of a game was over 3 hours.

Thirty MLB teams combined for 2,486 stolen bases, 7,940 doubles and 643 triples over 2,430 games. Ten years before, in 2012, there were 743 more stolen bases, 321 more doubles and 284 more triples. Those are major differences, especially in stolen bases. They are the difference between a portable generator and a hydroelectric dam.

Baseball is at its best when it is filled with tension and anxiety, and tension and anxiety are heightened when the ball is in play and runners are in motion. It’s when fans get to their feet to judge the relative merits of basepath speed vs. outfielder ability. Doubles and triples are geometrically inspirational.

So are stolen bases. The 1980s, when there were 2.27 stolen-base attempts per game, are long gone. One can hope that 2022, when there were 1.3 attempts/game, is also long gone. The early returns are promising.

Through the first week of the regular season, stolen base attempts are up to 1.44 per outing and appear to be rising. Games are 25 minutes shorter. Balls are in play. Fielders are in motion. LOOK: A HIT-AND-RUN! Batsmanship means something again. Defensive prowess is incredibly more relevant. The appreciation of the competent second baseman has returned to the fore, like it’s 1973. By the way, games lasted two and a half hours in 1973.

I even like the mic’ing up of players by ESPN.

I’ve listened to TV people for years talking about how that direct connection between players and the viewing audience is a game-changer, and it hasn’t been. A few grunts, a couple of bleeped-out curses and a lot of “attaboys” is junk audio and adds nothing to a broadcast. But ESPN’s conversations with players — baseball is perfect for a conversation, and it works well when it is a conversation conducted by play-by-play people and analysts who have done their homework, know what to ask and respect the game — is terrific fun.