It was the mid 1950s, and Danny Borné was eager to get his first look inside Tiger Stadium. Eight years old, he’d already fallen in love with the pageantry of LSU football from listening to John Ferguson call games on the radio from his home in Thibodaux, Louisiana. WWL, that old 50,000-watt AM station out of New Orleans, was crystal clear at night.
Now, his Aunt Doris was taking him to see it in person. The interstate system wasn’t as developed then, so Borné, Doris and her two boys got on a ferry to carry them up the Mississippi River to Baton Rouge. Stepping on campus, walking amid the oaks and magnolias, and up to the massive stadium of concrete and steel before an 8 p.m. kickoff felt like a dream.
The opponent was incidental. The experience was visceral. Never mind that the lighting was terrible. Never mind that LSU wasn’t very good. Sitting inside the bowl, hearing the piercing horns of The Golden Band from Tigerland and the low tones of Sid Crocker calling out plays over the loudspeaker, Borné was swept away. The smell, the atmosphere, the roar of the crowd — everything connected.
Doris would lean over and tell Borné, “It never rains in Tiger Stadium.” He didn’t know what she meant, but it felt right.
Not long after kickoff, he watched as the fog began to drift over the river about a half mile off to the west, slowly encircling the stadium.
“It gave it an ethereal effect,” Borné recalled. “It gave it an out-of-this-world experience that I grew up having become part of my body and my soul. It just always stayed with me over all those years.”
He couldn’t imagine then what his future would hold. He couldn’t know that his voice and his connection to Tiger Stadium — both deeper and more vivid than the other boys his age — were a perfect match.
There was always something special about night games at LSU. Borné would manage to make them sound even more magical.
His voice will be among the first things Alabama players hear when they take the field to play rival LSU on Saturday night (7 p.m. ET, ESPN). Echoing throughout the 102,321 seat arena, Borné will be the unseen narrator of a game that will either make or break each team’s season.
IN A NORMAL year, half of Alabama’s roster or more would know what to expect ahead of Saturday night’s trip to LSU. But the freshmen and sophomores have never been to Tiger Stadium, and the juniors and seniors only have the 2020 game under their belt when the stadium was mostly empty because of COVID restrictions. Sure, they might think they know what they’re about to walk into. LSU has a singular reputation. Paul “Bear” Bryant only lost there once in 25 seasons as head coach at Alabama, and still he called it “the worst place in the world for a visiting team.”
Former Alabama quarterback John Parker Wilson remembers how close the bleachers are to the sideline and the feeling of so many raucous fans being right on top of you. “The electricity,” he said, “is something you can’t replicate.” AJ McCarron, another former Alabama QB, remembers the ride up to the stadium and how it set the tone. “Pulling in, night game, everybody’s flipping you off,” he said. “They’re rocking the bus, throwing eggs at the bus, beer bottles at the bus.”
“They have a great tradition there,” Alabama coach Nick Saban said. “They have a great atmosphere.”
Saban should know. He coached at LSU from 2000 to ’04. On Monday, he said his team would have to keep its focus on the road — something that hasn’t come easily this season after a close call at Texas and a loss at Tennessee.
“We have to be able to have enough poise to execute in this kind of environment and not let it affect us,” he said.
Quarterback Bryce Young, who was a freshman backup during the game in Baton Rouge two years ago, said, “We understand going in to play at a place like LSU, it’s going to be extremely hostile.”
But hostility is only part of the equation. Other stadiums have loud and surly fans. What sets Tiger Stadium apart is its mystique, especially at night. It has a living, breathing, haunting quality that few have been able to capture accurately.
Borné is one of those people. For the last 36 years in his perch high up in Tiger Stadium, he’s been a narrator helping to build upon the legend of Death Valley — a cathedral to college football where it’s said that opponents’ dreams go to die.
BORNÉ WILL TAKE an elevator upstairs to the public address booth inside Tiger Stadium on Saturday night ahead of the game against Alabama. But the truth is fate carried him there long ago.
It was listening to Ferguson on the radio. It was Aunt Doris and their trips to Baton Rouge. It was Sid Crocker and the idea that such a job existed. And it was a voice that Borné says is a “gift from God.”
He’s a deacon in the Catholic Church. So, yes, there is modesty in that statement.
Borné, as it turns out, was never afraid of public speaking. In high school, he emceed assemblies. After calling out the members of the honor society, a teacher approached him. “Danny,” she said, “When you speak in a microphone, the speakers do something with your voice and I’m not really sure I understand what it is.”
Neither did he. But it served him well when he did play-by-play for Nicholls State baseball, went to LSU for graduate school and got a job with the TV station WAFB covering sports and news.
One September day in 1968, he found his seat in the press box at Tiger Stadium when Crocker called him over.
“Come see where I work,” Crocker told him.
Borné marveled at the room with a view.
“Look at it,” Crocker said. “You might be doing this one day.”
Borné laughed and didn’t think about it again. But then, in 1985, Crocker announced he was going to retire. Borné, who had gotten out of the broadcast business, called Crocker and asked why he was quitting.
“He said he wanted to do in the stands things he couldn’t do in the booth,” Borné said of Crocker wanting to be a fan. “And I knew exactly what he was talking about.”
Some things shouldn’t be done or said in front of a microphone. It’s college football, but it’s still polite society.
Borné wrote to then-athletic director Robert Brodhead expressing interest in the job. And for eight long months, he didn’t get an answer. But then, two weeks before the start of the season, Brodhead’s assistant called him in for an interview.
Brodhead had come from Miami and was still getting a feel for Louisiana. His question to Borné was simple: “Can you pronounce these names?”
There was a list of Boudreauxes, Broussards and Heberts.
“Pronounce them?” Borné said. “I know their daddies.”
He got the job on the spot. The little boy who arrived by ferry two decades earlier, who saw the mist coming off the river and felt the glory of LSU football, had become the voice of Tiger Stadium.
Ask any cook, he said, and what’s almost as important as the ingredients is the pot you cook it in.
“That stadium is the pot where LSU football simmers and lives and scores and soars,” he said. “And that’s why it’s so important — the stadium itself. The stadium is steel and concrete, but it has a life, it has a history, it has a presence, and it has a future.”
With a perspective and a vocabulary like that, of course Borné would do more than say who caught which pass and who scored which touchdown. He’d add a little spice of his own.
BORNÉ SAID HE takes advice from William Shakespeare. “The play,” he said, “is the thing.” Anything that detracts from that shouldn’t be in a PA person’s portfolio.
He used to do a straightforward version of the pregame weather forecast, giving the temperature, humidity, wind direction and strength. Lastly, he’d provide the chance of precipitation.
It wasn’t in the plan, he swears, but one day in the 1990s he must have thought of his Aunt Doris because he blurted out at the end, “Chance of rain? Never.”
He thought he might get an earful from fans for that. And he did. But it wasn’t the negative reception he expected. They loved the callback to the saying among LSU fans that “It never rains in Tiger Stadium” — origin story, unknown.
Speaking those words out loud, Borné brought the tradition further into the spotlight. He’ll be walking the aisles of the grocery store, minding his own business, when a stranger will approach him, grinning. “Hey Dan,” they’ll say. “What’s the chance of rain?”
“Who knows why these things catch on?” he said. “But now, I mean, you don’t say it and they come looking for you.
“Now, everybody screams it back to me before I even get to say it.”
But that’s not the only moment where Borné has punched up the Tiger Stadium experience.
It was an afternoon game — again in the 1990s when Borné was apparently on a roll — when the third quarter ended and the band began to play its distinctive pregame song. The drum line got to work and then the horn section got busy.
Buh-buh-buh-buh!
Caught up in the moment, Borné noticed it was dusk and saw the grounds crew lowering the flag.
“And I just looked at that,” he recalled, “and said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the colors are being retired and the sun has found its home in the Western sky. It is now Saturday night in Death Valley.'”
Again, that was not the plan. But it resonated. John Parker Wilson, in the middle of a game, noticed the reaction of fans. “The people go nuts,” he said.
More recently, Borné’s impact has come into greater focus. Before Alabama and LSU take the field — as has happened before every home game since 2010 — Borné’s words will narrate a pregame video on the scoreboard.
His final, ominous words — “It’s Saturday night in Death Valley” — will send fans into a frenzy.
Borné called it a “mystical experience” once the sun sets on Tiger Stadium.
He knows people will read this and call him crazy.
But, he said, “The people have been in and felt it, they know what I’m talking about.”
“Even to this day, it’s bigger, it’s brighter, it’s louder,” he said. “There’s this undercurrent of Halloween that almost drifts over the stadium from the West — almost like that fog when I was a kid.”
The opening weekend of the 2025 MLB season was taken over by a surprise star — torpedo bats.
The bowling pin-shaped bats became the talk of the sport after the Yankees’ home run onslaught on the first Saturday of the season put it in the spotlight and the buzz hasn’t slowed since.
What exactly is a torpedo bat? How does it help hitters? And how is it legal? Let’s dig in.
What is a torpedo bat and why is it different from a traditional MLB bat?
The idea of the torpedo bat is to take a size format — say, 34 inches and 32 ounces — and distribute the wood in a different geometric shape than the traditional form to ensure the fattest part of the bat is located where the player makes the most contact. Standard bats taper toward an end cap that is as thick diametrically as the sweet spot of the barrel. The torpedo bat moves some of the mass on the end of the bat about 6 to 7 inches lower, giving it a bowling-pin shape, with a much thinner end.
How does it help hitters?
The benefits for those who like swinging with it — and not everyone who has swung it likes it — are two-fold. Both are rooted in logic and physics. The first is that distributing more mass to the area of most frequent contact aligns with players’ swing patterns and provides greater impact when bat strikes ball. Players are perpetually seeking ways to barrel more balls, and while swings that connect on the end of the bat and toward the handle probably will have worse performance than with a traditional bat, that’s a tradeoff they’re willing to make for the additional slug. And as hitters know, slug is what pays.
The second benefit, in theory, is increased bat speed. Imagine a sledgehammer and a broomstick that both weigh 32 ounces. The sledgehammer’s weight is almost all at the end, whereas the broomstick’s is distributed evenly. Which is easier to swing fast? The broomstick, of course, because shape of the sledgehammer takes more strength and effort to move. By shedding some of the weight off the end of the torpedo bat and moving it toward the middle, hitters have found it swings very similarly to a traditional model but with slightly faster bat velocity.
Why did it become such a big story so early in the 2025 MLB season?
Because the New York Yankees hit nine home runs in a game Saturday and Michael Kay, their play-by-play announcer, pointed out that some of them came from hitters using a new bat shape. The fascination was immediate. While baseball, as an industry, has implemented forward-thinking rules in recent seasons, the modification to something so fundamental and known as the shape of a bat registered as bizarre. The initial response from many who saw it: How is this legal?
OK. How is this legal?
Major League Baseball’s bat regulations are relatively permissive. Currently, the rules allow for a maximum barrel diameter of 2.61 inches, a maximum length of 42 inches and a smooth and round shape. The lack of restrictions allows MLB’s authorized bat manufacturers to toy with bat geometry and for the results to still fall within the regulations.
Who came up with the idea of using them?
The notion of a bowling-pin-style bat has kicked around baseball for years. Some bat manufacturers made smaller versions as training tools. But the version that’s now infiltrating baseball goes back two years when a then-Yankees coach named Aaron Leanhardt started asking hitters how they should counteract the giant leaps in recent years made by pitchers.
When Yankees players responded that bigger barrels would help, Leanhardt — an MIT-educated former Michigan physics professor who left academia to work in the sports industry — recognized that as long as bats stayed within MLB parameters, he could change their geometry to make them a reality. Leanhardt, who left the Yankees to serve as major league field coordinator for the Miami Marlins over the winter, worked with bat manufacturers throughout the 2023 and 2024 seasons to make that a reality.
When did it first appear in MLB games?
It’s unclear specifically when. But Yankees slugger Giancarlo Stanton used a torpedo bat last year and went on a home run-hitting rampage in October that helped send the Yankees to the World Series. New York Mets star Francisco Lindor also used a torpedo-style bat last year and went on to finish second in National League MVP voting.
Who are some of the other notable early users of torpedo bats?
Corking bats involves drilling a hole at the end of the bat, filling it in and capping it. The use of altered bats allows players to swing faster because the material with which they replace the wood — whether it’s cork, superballs or another material — is lighter. Any sort of bat adulteration is illegal and, if found, results in suspension.
Could a rule be changed to ban them?
Could it happen? Sure. Leagues and governing bodies have put restrictions on equipment they believe fundamentally altered fairness. Stick curvature is limited in hockey. Full-body swimsuits made of polyurethane and neoprene are banned by World Aquatics. But officials at MLB have acknowledged that the game’s pendulum has swung significantly toward pitching in recent years, and if an offensive revolution comes about because of torpedo bats — and that is far from a guarantee — it could bring about more balance to the game. If that pendulum swings too far, MLB could alter its bat regulations, something it has done multiple times already this century.
So the torpedo bat is here to stay?
Absolutely. Bat manufacturers are cranking them out and shipping them to interested players with great urgency. Just how widely the torpedo bat is adopted is the question that will play out over the rest of the season. But it has piqued the curiosity of nearly every hitter in the big leagues, and just as pitchers toy with new pitches to see if they can marginally improve themselves, hitters will do the same with bats.
Comfort is paramount with a bat, so hitters will test them during batting practice and in cage sessions before unleashing them during the game. As time goes on, players will find specific shapes that are most comfortable to them and best suit their swing during bat-fitting sessions — similar to how golfers seek custom clubs. But make no mistake: This is an almost-overnight alteration of the game, and “traditional or torpedo” is a question every big leaguer going forward will ask himself.
At 1:54 ET on Saturday afternoon, New York Yankees play-by-play man Michael Kay lit the fuse on what will be remembered as either one of the most metamorphic conversations in baseball history or one of its strangest.
During spring training, someone in the organization had mentioned to Kay that the team’s analytics department had counseled players on where pitches tended to strike their bats, and with subsequent buy-in from some of the players, bats had been designed around that information. In the hours before the Yankees’ home game against the Brewers that day, Kay told the YES Network production staff about this, alerting them so they could look for an opportunity to highlight the equipment.
After the Yankees clubbed four homers in the first inning, a camera zoomed in on Jazz Chisholm Jr.‘s bat in the second inning. “You see the shape of Chisholm’s bat…” Kay said on air. “It’s got a big barrel on it,” Paul O’Neill responded, before Kay went on to describe the analysis behind the bat shaped like a torpedo.
Chisholm singled to left field, and after Anthony Volpe worked the count against former teammate Nestor Cortes to a full count, Volpe belted a home run to right field using the same kind of bat. A reporter watching the game texted Kay: Didn’t he hit the meat part of the bat you were talking about — just inside where the label normally is?
Yep, Kay responded. Within an hour of Kay’s commentary, the video of Chisholm’s bat and Kay’s exchange with O’Neill was posted on multiple platforms of social media, amplified over and over. What happened over the next 48 hours was what you get when you mix the power of social media and the desperation of a generation of beleaguered hitters. Batting averages are at a historic low, strikeout rates at a historic high, and on a sunny spring day in the Bronx, here were the Yankees blasting baseballs into the seats with what seemed to be a strangely shaped magic bat.
An oasis of offense had formed on the horizon, and hitters — from big leaguers to Little Leaguers, including at least one member of Congress — paddled toward it furiously. Acres of trees will be felled and shaped to feed the thirst for this new style of bats. Last weekend, one bat salesman asked his boss, “What the heck have we done?”
Jared Smith, CEO of bat-maker Victus, said, “I’ve been making bats for 15, 16 years. … This is the most talked-about thing in the industry since I started. And I hope we can make better-performing bats that work for players.”
According to Bobby Hillerich, the vice president of production at Hillerich & Bradsby, his company — which is based in Louisville, Kentucky, and makes Louisville Slugger bats — had produced 20 versions of the torpedo bat as of this past Saturday, and in less than a week, that number has tripled as players and teams continually call in their orders.
Even though Saturday marked its launch into the mainstream, this shape of bat has actually been around for a while. Hillerich & Bradsby had its first contact with a team about the style in 2021 and had nondisclosure agreements with four teams as the bat evolved; back then, it was referred to as the “bowling pin” bat. The Cubs’ Nico Hoerner was the first major leaguer to try it — and apparently wasn’t comfortable with it. Cody Bellinger tried it when he was with the Cubs before joining the Yankees during the offseason.
Before Atlanta took the field Sunday night, Braves catcher Drake Baldwin recalled trying one in the Arizona Fall League last year (noting that his first impression was that it “looked weird”). Mets shortstop Francisco Lindor used it in 2024, in a year in which he would finish second in the NL MVP voting; Lindor’s was a little different from Volpe’s version, with a cup hollowed out at the end of the bat. Giancarlo Stanton swung one throughout his playoff surge last fall, but no one in the media noticed, perhaps because of how the pitch-black color of Stanton’s bat camouflaged the shape.
Minnesota manager Rocco Baldelli saw one in the Twins’ dugout during spring training and picked it up, his attention drawn to the unusual shape. “What the hell is this thing?” he asked, wondering aloud whether the design was legal. When he was assured it was, he put it back down.
Baldelli’s experience reflected the way hitters have used and assessed bats since the advent of baseball: They’ll pick up bats and see how they feel, their interest fueled by the specter of success. Tony Gwynn won eight batting titles, and many teammates and opposing hitters — Barry Bonds among them — asked whether they could inspect his bats. The torpedo bat’s arrival was simply the latest version of that long-held search for the optimal tool.
On Opening Day, eight teams had some version of the torpedo bat within their stock, according to one major league source. But with video of the Yankees’ home runs being hit off unusual bats saturating social media Saturday afternoon, the phone of Kevin Uhrhan, pro bat sales rep for Louisville Slugger, blew up with requests for torpedo bats. James Rowson, the hitting coach of the Yankees, began to get text inquiries — about 100, he later estimated. Everyone wanted to know about the bat; everyone wanted to get their own.
In San Diego, Braves players asked about the bats, and by Sunday morning, equipment manager Calvin Minasian called in the team’s order. By the middle of the week, all 30 teams had asked for the bats. “Every team started trying to get orders in,” Hillerich said. “We’re trying to scramble to get wood. And then it was: How fast can we get this to retail?”
Victus produces the bats Chisholm and Volpe are using and has made them available for retail. Three senior players, all in their 70s, stopped by the Victus store to ask about the torpedoes. A member of Congress who plays baseball reached out to Louisville Slugger.
The Cincinnati Reds contacted Hillerich & Bradsby, saying, “We need you in Cincinnati on Monday ASAP,” and soon after, Uhrhan and pro bat production manager Brian Hillerich, Bobby’s brother, made the 90-minute drive from the company’s factory in Louisville with test bats.
Reds star Elly De La Cruz tried a few, decided on a favorite and used it for a career performance that night.
“You can think in New York, maybe there was wind,” Bobby Hillerich said. “Elly hits two home runs and gets seven RBIs. That just took it to a whole new level.”
A few days after the Yankees’ explosion, Aaron Leanhardt, who had led New York’s effort to customize its bats as a minor league hitting coordinator before being hired by the Marlins as their field coordinator, was in the middle of a horseshoe of reporters, explaining the background. “There are a lot more cameras here today than I’m used to,” he said, laughing.
Stanton spoke with reporters about the simple concept behind the bat: build a design for where a hitter is most likely to make contact. “You wonder why no one has thought of it before, for sure,” Stanton said. “I didn’t know if it was, like, a rule-based thing of why they were shaped like that.”
Over and over, MLB officials assured those asking: Yes, the bats are legal and meet the sport’s equipment specifications. Trevor Megill, the Brewers’ closer, complained about the bats, calling them like “something used in slow-pitch softball,” but privately, baseball officials were thrilled by the possibility of seeing offense goosed, something they had been attempting through rule change in recent years.
“It’s all the rage right now, given what transpired over the weekend,” said Jeremy Zoll, assistant general manager of the Twins. “I’m sure more and more guys are going to experiment with it as a result, just to see if it’s something they like.”
That personal preference is a factor for which some front office types believe the mass orders of the bats don’t account: The Yankees’ recommendations to each hitter were based on months of past data of how that player tended to strike the ball. This was not about a one-size-fits all bat; it was about precise bat measurements that reflected an individual player’s swing.
“I had never heard of it. I’ve used the same bat for nine years, so I think I’ll stick with that,” White Sox outfielder Andrew Benintendi said. “It’s pretty interesting. It makes sense. If it works for a guy, good for him. If it doesn’t, stick with what you got.”
As longtime player Eric Hosmer explained on the “Baseball Tonight” podcast, the process is a lot like what players can do in golf: look for clubs customized for a player’s particular swing. And, he added, hitting coaches might begin to think more about which bat might be most effective against particular pitchers. If a pitcher tends to throw inside, a torpedo bat could be more effective; if a pitcher is more effective outside, maybe a larger barrel would be more appropriate.
That’s the key, according to an agent representing a player who ordered a bat: “You need years of hitting data in the big leagues to dial it in and hopefully get a better result. He’s still tinkering with it; he may not even use it in a game. … I think of it like switching your irons in golf to blades: It will feel a little different and take some adjusting, and it may even change your swing subtly.”
Two days after the home run explosion, Boone said, “You’re just trying to just get what you can on the margins, move the needle a little bit. And that’s really all you’re going to do. I don’t think this is some revelation to where we’re going to be — it’s not related to the weekend that we had, for example. I don’t think it’s that. Maybe in some cases, for some players it may help them incrementally. That’s how I view it.”
“I’m kind of starting to smile at it a little more … a lot of things that aren’t real.”
Said the player agent: “It’s not an aluminum bat with plutonium in it like everyone is making it out to be.”
Reliever Adam Ottavino watched this all play out, with his 15 years of experience. “It’s the Yankees and they scored a million runs in the first few games, and it’s cool to hate the Yankees and it’s cool to look for the bogeyman,” Ottavino said, “and that’s what some people are going to do, and [you] can’t really stop that. But there’s also a lot of misinformation and noneducation on it too.”
Major league baseball mostly evolves at a glacial pace. For example, the sport is well into the second century of complaints about the surface of the ball and the debate over financial disparity among teams. From time to time, however, baseball has its eclipses, moments that command full attention and inspire change. On a “Sunday Night Baseball” game on May 18, 2008, an umpire’s botched home run call at Yankee Stadium compelled MLB to implement the first instant replay. Buster Posey’s ankle was shattered in a home plate collision in May 2011, imperiling the career of the young star, and new rules about that type of play were rewritten.
The torpedo bat eruption could turn out to be transformative, a time when the industry became aware how a core piece of equipment has been taken for granted and aware that bats could be more precisely designed to augment the ability of each hitter. Or this could all turn out to be a wild overreaction to an outlier day of home runs against a pitching staff having a really bad day.
On Thursday, Cortes — who had been hammered for five homers over two innings in Yankee Stadium — shut out the Reds for six innings.
In Baltimore, Bregman, who had tried the torpedo bat earlier this week, reverted to his usual stock and had three hits against the Orioles, including a home run. Afterward, Bregman said, “It’s the hitter. Not the bat.”
This story was also reported by Jeff Passan, Jorge Castillo, Jesse Rogers and Kiley McDaniel.
ATLANTA — The Braves hope to learn more about right-hander Reynaldo Lopez‘s ability to return to the rotation when he has exploratory arthroscopic surgery on his inflamed right shoulder on Tuesday in Los Angeles.
The Braves placed López on the 15-day injured list on Monday. He was moved to the 60-day IL on Thursday, so he will miss at least two months.
“We won’t know anything until that procedure,” manager Brian Snitker said before Friday night’s home opener against the Miami Marlins.
The Braves returned home with an 0-7 record, their worst start since an 0-9 start in 2016. They were swept at San Diego and Los Angeles to open the season.
No Major League Baseball team has reached the playoffs after an 0-7 start.
López allowed three runs and nine hits in a loss to San Diego on Friday night. The right-hander was an important part of the rotation in 2024, when he was 8-5 with a 1.99 ERA in his first year with the team.
The Braves recalled right-hander Bryce Elder from Triple-A Gwinnett to take López’s spot on the active roster.
Right-handed reliever Jesse Chavez, who was designated for assignment on Tuesday and refused an outright assignment to the minors, returned to the organization on a minor league contract on Friday. Chavez allowed one run and two hits in his only outing with Atlanta following his recall from Triple-A Gwinnett.