
Their son the talk of New York? Anthony Volpe’s parents know exactly what that means
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2 years agoon
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adminWHEN ISABELLE DE LEON and Michael Volpe drive to and from work in Manhattan, New York, each day, turning on sports talk radio is automatic: WFAN’s Boomer Esiason in the morning, ESPN New York’s Michael Kay on the way home. When the couple met at SUNY Downstate Medical School in Brooklyn in 1990, they bonded over their New York Yankees fandom, trading trivia questions and going on dates in the bleachers. They were the couple who would sleep outside Yankee Stadium when playoff tickets went on sale. And when Isabelle went into labor on April 27, 2001, the couple watched the Yankees beat the Oakland Athletics on television at Mount Sinai Hospital before she gave birth to their son the next morning.
For years, Michael called into those local shows to give his take on the team, one of countless callers discussing who the Yankees should pursue in free agency or whether GM Brian Cashman was doing enough at the trade deadline. But recently, there’s been a new topic to discuss.
“Now it’s like, ‘Oh my god, they’re talking about my son,'” Isabelle says. “We just kind of look at each other like, ‘Wow.'”
Their son — shortstop Anthony Volpe — is indeed the talk of the town. On Thursday, he will become the youngest Yankee to start on Opening Day since Derek Jeter, his childhood hero growing up in Manhattan and later Watchung, New Jersey. The Yankees entered spring training calling the shortstop job an open competition — and Volpe was so impressive, he earned the leap to the majors after just 22 games in Triple-A.
Imagine this back page story: A kid born in New York City who grew up rooting for the Yankees helps lead his favorite team to its first World Series title since 2009. After losing to the Houston Astros in the playoffs three of the past six seasons, the Yankees and their fans hope Volpe will make it happen.
The Yankees have always been careful about managing expectations for their players, knowing the hype can get out of hand. As Volpe’s parents are well aware, New York can turn a Yankee into a superhero among mere mortals. But it can just as easily make him a villain — just ask Joey Gallo, Clint Frazier or Gary Sanchez, among the most recent examples.
That’s particularly true at shortstop, where for multiple offseasons, Yankees fans have grumbled about production, the shadow of Jeter’s legacy always looming over the position. Didi Gregorius, who lasted five seasons in New York after Jeter’s retirement, was a good player and generally well-liked, but he wasn’t the Captain. Since Sir Didi departed as a free agent after the 2019 season, 10 different players have manned shortstop. Most notably, the Yankees tried Gleyber Torres there for a season and a half before moving him back to second base in 2021 after he struggled defensively.
The Yankees had an opportunity after the 2021 and 2022 seasons to sign a big-name free agent for the position — Carlos Correa, Corey Seager, Marcus Semien, Javier Baez, Dansby Swanson, Xander Bogaerts and Trea Turner were all available.
The team passed, just as it passed on trade offers involving Volpe over the past few years. And now, with Volpe earning his spot in the big leagues so quickly, all those decisions seem to point to one conclusion: This shortstop prospect must be special. Volpe’s background, his upbringing, his confidence at 21 years old, his work ethic, his relationships with his teammates, all draw comparisons to Jeter, giving the team plenty of reason to believe he can handle the spotlight. For many within the organization, Volpe — the No. 3 prospect in baseball, according to ESPN’s Kiley McDaniel — seems like he was made in a Yankee lab.
“Even some veteran players, it’s like, ‘Wow,'” says manager Aaron Boone. “It’s the energy and the intensity and the effort — the little things — that get your attention. You get excited about it.”
To this point, all of it seems like a fairy tale, even to those living it. When Volpe shares stories of taking batting practice with some of the biggest names in baseball, like Giancarlo Stanton and newly minted captain Aaron Judge, his die-hard Yankees fan parents know exactly how cool it is — and how high the stakes are.
“There are moments where I talk to family and tell them about my day,” Volpe says. “I’ll say stuff off the cuff and their jaws drop.”
IT’S EARLY MARCH during batting practice before a spring training game with the rival Boston Red Sox at Steinbrenner Field in Tampa, Florida. Yankees legend Lou Piniella is standing around the batting cage, chatting up Cashman. The two men catch the eye of Volpe, who shuffles over. As the rookie prepares to meet Piniella for the first time, he makes a move that would later send earthquake tremors throughout the Yankees faithful: He takes off his cap before shaking Piniella’s hand.
“Volpe did something today that just kind of choked me up,” said Kay on the game broadcast on the YES Network. “Someone introduced him to Lou Piniella and out of respect, he took his hat off. This kid just gets it.”
The clip of Volpe meeting Piniella went viral. It’s the type of thing that floods his father’s phone these days. Texts from friends sending screenshots of stories and tweets praising Anthony’s performances. Sometimes it’s highlights of his latest snag in the field. Other times, it’s videos of fans and analysts speculating on Volpe’s future.
Isabelle and Michael — an anesthesiologist and urologist, respectively — never pushed their son into the sport. It was always Anthony asking. For the first 10 years of Anthony’s life, the Volpes lived in Murray Hill and the Upper West Side, and they would bring him to The Baseball Center — a training facility nearby — because he wanted to play as much as possible. Often after school, Michael and Anthony would go to the park and field ground balls for hours, trying to field 100 in a row. If Anthony dropped even the 99th ball, they would start over, often to Anthony’s delight.
“It’s going to be a late night for you, Dad,” Anthony would say with a smile.
Being a Yankees fan was more than a backdrop. In the mornings before school, Anthony would lay out his Yankees shirseys, sometimes choosing Jeter, sometimes Jorge Posada, sometimes another favorite player. When Jeter played his last home game as a Yankee, Anthony and Michael were there to see the Captain’s walk-off single.
“It’s like fate, the way it happened,” Anthony says of that moment
Memories like that fueled his desire to get better on the diamond. As he got older, Anthony played for travel teams, eventually driving with his dad from New Jersey to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, to play with better competition. There could be a snowstorm brewing or homework piling up. Still, he was at practice every weekend.
That homework always got done, by the way, thanks to how Isabelle ran the house. Growing up, Anthony begged his parents for a dog, but his mother resisted. Anthony showed Isabelle videos of cute pups, for days on end, until she relented. But there was a major condition: From August through Christmas, he needed to make his bed every day, with no slipups. Every dish must be put away. No socks on the floor. No toothpaste caps left off. He was to keep his room pristine, as if a photoshoot for House & Garden magazine could break out at any moment.
By November, Isabelle had seen enough.
Anthony had a perfect record — and the Volpes welcomed Jedi into the house.
“We have a dog because of him,” Michael says. “He did all of those things, and he kept up with making his bed and stuff after we got the dog, too.”
After Volpe was selected 30th in the 2019 draft, Yankees head of minor league operations Kevin Reese noticed that his intensity around doing the small things, the reps that often bore others, would become contagious. Quickly, minor leaguers older than Volpe started treating him like a veteran.
“I had 12 years in the game, he’s 12 years younger than me and we were having not just professional conversations about pitchers and game situations, but about life,” says Derek Dietrich, an eight-year major league veteran who played in the Yankees farm system the past two seasons.
Volpe credits his confidence, maturity and perspective on life to the many nights he spends with his grandparents. Isabelle’s parents live with the Volpes, while Michael’s parents’ house is across the street. It’s a family tradition to gather around the dinner table and tell stories.
Volpe’s great-grandfather on his father’s side moved to the United States from Italy with a third-grade education. While trying to build a foundation in America, he sold fruit from a pushcart on Mott Street in downtown Manhattan. He later served in World War II, where he fought in the Battle of the Bulge, receiving shrapnel injuries to his leg before returning to work at the post office. Volpe’s paternal grandfather served in the Marines in Japan from 1958 through 1962.
Isabelle’s parents, Benjamin and Concepcion de Leon, came to the United States in the 1960s due to the political landscape in the Philippines. Isabelle’s grandfather served as the mayor of Paranaque and, as a colonel in the army, was in the Bataan Death March, the transfer of American and Filipino prisoners of war by the Imperial Japanese Army. After Isabelle’s father, Benjamin, lost a race for vice mayor of Paranaque, the family decided to leave the country. They arrived with no money and just two of their seven children, the rest of whom they brought over five and a half years later when they were more settled.
“I’m old enough now to register and understand the context, but everyone, my aunts, uncles, everyone just worked,” Volpe says. “They always put their heads down and never asked for anything.”
Baseball, you’ve done it again. @Volpe_Anthony ? pic.twitter.com/LuN57Ij2vv
— New York Yankees (@Yankees) March 26, 2023
THESE DAYS, MICHAEL doesn’t call in to sports radio anymore. The excitement around his son is impossible to avoid, and with all the positives come the negatives. A few years back, Michael turned his Twitter account anonymous after he got into a back-and-forth with some fans criticizing Anthony’s fielding.
“I made some comments to the effect of, ‘Who do you scout for? How do you know so much about fielding?'” Michael says. “That was such a bad look, so I promised my wife and my family that I would never make any comment in any kind of social media or anything like that again.”
Right now, Yankees fans criticizing his son are on a lonely corner of the internet. There’s a palpable excitement over one of the team’s most hyped prospects ever, particularly one compared to Jeter. In front of the cameras and microphones, Volpe deflects those comparisons, pointing out he has a long way to go before he approaches the Hall of Famer’s résumé.
In private, he admits, it can weigh on him.
“Why are there comparisons to Jeter?” Volpe sometimes asks his mom. “I haven’t accomplished anything close to him. There’s never going to be another Jeter.”
And while Isabelle views the comparisons as a bit detached from reality, she understands where people are coming from.
“He just wants to be Anthony,” Isabelle says. “But he will do whatever it takes to help the Yankees win.”
The press is positive, for now, but as Yankees fans, the Volpes know as well as anyone that a tabloid back page criticizing their son is inevitable. Right now, everyone dreams of whether Volpe can live up to Jeter, but just wait until he has his first slump.
“He usually handles that well,” Michael says. “My wife and I don’t handle it as well. We’re always freaking out.”
When Volpe is home in New Jersey, the family avoids talking about his future and what might be in store. Both Michael and Isabelle know it’s the last thing he wants to talk about. Instead, Michael spends hours on the phone with his brother talking about what Anthony’s future could look like. Anthony and his younger sister Olivia, meanwhile, prefer talking about her life at Georgetown, Taylor Swift or politics. Instead of dreaming of glory or dreading failure, Anthony would rather be spending time playing golf, eating his grandma’s sinigang or playing with Jedi.
“I really am trying to stay present,” he says.
Volpe will have a clubhouse full of teammates who can relate. When Judge burst onto the scene as a superstar rookie in 2017, hitting 52 homers, earning rookie of the year honors and finishing second in the MVP race, then-manager Joe Girardi compared the slugger to Jeter, noting his attitude, presence and smile. Judge hears the same thrusted on Volpe, and has shared advice.
“It happens quick,” Judge says. “But all of it is nerve-wracking and exciting. You don’t want to make a mistake. You want to show people you belong here. I can see it in the way they walk around, how they’re in the cages. They’re a little nervous but they’re showing, this is where I belong.”
It wasn’t that long ago when Volpe was worshiping Judge as a teenager in New Jersey. Even last year, as Judge approached Roger Maris’ home run mark, the Volpes watched the towering slugger in awe, enjoying the moment as fans, with no way of knowing Anthony would share a spot with Judge in the next year’s Opening Day lineup.
“It can get overwhelming for Anthony because he’s so shy,” Isabelle says. “In the back of his mind, he’s always thinking, he’s there, he’s there, he’s there. ‘I’m in the same room as Aaron Judge.'”
Now it’s Volpe who garners that reaction from both fans and aspiring ballplayers, and his father grapples with the possibility that Volpe could fall short of expectations, and that the fan base that brought him and his wife together could turn on their son.
“I try to remind myself that even if Anthony doesn’t make it, he will be successful at whatever he wants to do in life,” Michael says. “That’s who he is.”
He’s made it this far, to Opening Day at Yankee Stadium. Those around Volpe note he always stayed after his minor league games for as long as possible to sign autographs, half an hour after the lights were turned off, the fireworks ended and his teammates had returned to the locker room.
It’s not something Isabelle tells him to do, but she makes it a point to remind him that with this opportunity comes a responsibility to others. His parents used to do for Jeter and the Core Four the way so many will do for him on Opening Day and during his debut season in the Bronx. There will be strangers asking for his attention, many of whom will be critical or disappointed at times. The chance to succeed or fail at his childhood dreams is a privilege. So Volpe will continue to heed his mom’s advice.
“Never turn away,” Isabelle always tells him, “because Mom was one of those people.”
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Sports
First impressions from the Athletics’ new home opener
Published
5 hours agoon
April 4, 2025By
admin
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Tim KeownApr 3, 2025, 12:45 PM ET
Close- Senior Writer for ESPN The Magazine
- Columnist for ESPN.com
- Author of five books (3 NYT best-sellers)
A local television news crew was stationed outside the Sawyer Hotel in downtown Sacramento on Sunday night, ready to catch every nuance of the magical moment the bleary-eyed Chicago Cubs stepped off their bus to enter the lobby. This was the first time a major league baseball team had arrived in Sacramento to play a legally sanctioned regular-season game, and no story was too small. If you ever wondered what Ian Happ looks like walking toward a hotel and being surprised by the presence of a camera and a reporter, CBS-13 was the channel for you.
“That was different,” Cubs pitcher Matthew Boyd said. “But it’s the first time a big league team has come to Sacramento, and they’re excited. Baseball’s that cool thing that brings everyone together.”
It was quite a week for Sacramento — more specifically, West Sacramento, the place with the street signs declaring it “The Baseball Side of the River.” It got to host the first three games of the Athletics’ expected three-season interregnum between Oakland and Las Vegas, and it got to call a big league team its own, even if the team has decided to declare itself simply the Athletics, a geographically nonspecific generic version of a Major League Baseball team.
It’s tough to explain the vibe at Sutter Health Park for the first series. It looked like big league baseball and sounded like big league baseball; it just didn’t feel like big league baseball. The crowds were mostly sedate, maybe because there’s room for only about 14,000 fans, and maybe because the Athletics were outscored 35-9 over the course of the three games, the first and third of which could have been stopped for humanitarian reasons.
This is a team that is supposed to be better this season, and three games shouldn’t change that expectation. It spent some money nobody knew it had on a free agent contract for Luis Severino and extensions for Brent Rooker and Lawrence Butler, moves that assured a payroll high enough to abide by the revenue-sharing rules of the collective bargaining agreement, but moves that improved the team nonetheless. (You’ve got to spend money to make money is an adage that, for the first time, appealed to owner John Fisher.) The A’s have a universally respected manager in Mark Kotsay, several promising young players from recent drafts and the confidence that came from playing really good baseball over last season’s second half. There is a creeping suspicion that they could be building something that could make West Sacramento proud.
It’s a long, maybe even interminable season that will contain every iteration of peak and valley. Three games can end up being the equivalent of one breath over the course of a lifetime. But still, it’s impossible to deny the Athletics brought back a lot of their old classics for their Sacramento debut: They walked 10 batters in Monday night’s home opener; they kicked the ball around enough for four unearned runs in three games; they walked seven more Wednesday afternoon. The crowds were mostly quiet; the numerous Cubs fans were noisy until it felt mean, but the A’s fans, when they found something cheer-worthy, reacted as if they were cheering for someone else’s kid at a piano recital. As first impressions go, it could have been better.
The A’s players, in their defense, are going through an adjustment period. When I asked closer Mason Miller how he likes Sacramento, he starts counting on his fingers and says, “I’ve literally spent five nights here.” They’re young, wealthy and accustomed to living in a new place every season as they progress through the minor leagues, and they’re trying to view their new home as an opportunity to bond over experiencing something together for the first time.
“We’re all new here,” rookie second baseman Max Muncy says, “so even though I’m a rookie, I can earn some cred if I find a good restaurant and let everyone know.” I mention the toughest reservation in town, a Michelin-starred, fixed-price restaurant less than 2 miles away.
“That sounds like a two-month wait,” he says.
“Not if you tell them who you are,” I joke.
“Yeah, I can’t imagine doing that,” he says. “Besides, if I say, ‘Max Muncy,’ when I show up they’ll say, ‘Oh great, we got this one.'”
The A’s bigger concern is playing the next three seasons in a minor league ballpark and sharing it with a minor league team, the Triple-A Sacramento River Cats. It’s kind of like a senior rooming with a freshman; the senior has dibs on just about everything, but he still has to deal with the roommate. For the A’s, that means wondering how the field will hold up over the course of the 155 games it’ll wear this season, and figuring out how to cope with having a clubhouse beyond the outfield wall, disconnected from the dugout.
Severino made his first home start for the A’s on Tuesday night, and he had to tweak his routine to account for the new reality: Once he left the clubhouse, there was no going back. It was cold and windy, so he had to make sure his jacket made it to the dugout with him. The notes he likes to reference during the game had to be there, too. His usual practice of popping into the clubhouse to watch the game on television while his team hits (“It looks easier and more fun on TV,” he says with a laugh) is on hold for home starts for the foreseeable future. He had to sit there with his teammates whether he pitched well or not — on Tuesday: not — and know that every one of his emotions would be picked up by at least five cameras.
“You just have to stick it out,” Severino says. “You can’t have all the stuff you have in a normal stadium. When you go out there, you have to bring everything with you. You have to try to stay warm and find out a different routine. It’s not the same, but the thing is, it doesn’t matter because it’s happening, and we need to get used to it. Just treat it like spring training, because it feels like spring training.”
Players coming off the bench to pinch-hit or play defense have nowhere to get loose. In any other park, they’d jump into the cage behind the dugout and take some swings or stretch out and run a few sprints. Here, they have to do whatever they can do within the confines of the dugout. “Just do some arm circles and maybe run in place,” Cubs infielder Jon Berti says. “Make it old-school.”
Just one of the three games sold out, an unexpected development after months of civic backslapping and grand proclamations about Sacramento cementing its status as a major league city. Tickets for Wednesday’s game, which drew 9,342 fans, were selling on the secondary market for $20 about 30 minutes before first pitch. The A’s have the highest median ticket prices — $181 — in baseball, according to data compiled by the ticket app Gametime. The idea was to employ the time-honored scarcity=demand concept to seize maximum profits from minimal opportunities, but one sellout — the opener, which also included roughly 2,000 comped tickets — in the first three games shows the A’s remain capable of straining even the most fundamental economic concepts.
It’s probably not fair to judge Sacramento’s worth as a baseball town based on its willingness to support a team that won’t be identified by the city’s name during its time here. And it’s definitely not fair to judge a region based on the number of fans eager to hand money to an owner who pulled the team out of Oakland after 57 years and is on his way to Las Vegas.
In the days after Kings/River Cats owner Vivek Ranadive joined with Fisher to bring the A’s to Sacramento, someone identified to me as “as Sacramento as it gets” sent a text that illustrates the conflict that lives within the Sacramento sports fan:
So many thoughts as I’ve been following this:
1) I hate it in that we are just bailing out Fisher
2) I hate that we are basically acting as Seattle a decade ago with regards to the Kings and poached the A’s away from Oakland. That’s an awful feeling I wish on no one
3) I am interested to see if this actually goes anywhere other than just bailing out Fisher for 3 years while he waits out whatever magic is gonna happen in LV
4) Reeeeeally wish Vivek read the room on this one
5) We could buy $30 lawn seats and catch a ball from Mike Trout or even better, [Austin] Slater, on a Wednesday night in Sac. That would be wild
The A’s are quick to point out that there weren’t many crowds of 10,000 on Tuesday nights in Oakland. (There was just one last year, during the final homestand of the season.) Still, Sacramento is a city attempting to use this three- to four-year run to audition for its own big league team. And if the A’s can’t sell out a minor league stadium in an area with established fans of the team, what does that foretell for their eventual move to Las Vegas, where the team is forecasting sellout crowds, including nearly 5,000 tourists per game — in a 33,000-seat stadium in an area with no connection to the A’s?
But that’s someone else’s problem, some other day. Three trips this week to Sutter Health — Sunday for the River Cats, Monday and Wednesday for the A’s — was a chance to watch big league baseball in a quaint, intimate ballpark. I thought it might be like venturing back in time, maybe what it felt like to watch a Philadelphia A’s game in 1907 at Columbia Park if Columbia Park had a state-of-the-art video screen that looks like an 86-inch television hanging from the wall of a studio apartment. This would be baseball back when games were just games and big league ballparks didn’t feel obligated to stock luxury suites with $300 cabernet and fist-sized prawns. Back to when every concession stand sold pretty much the same thing (at Sutter Health, each vendor has a set menu and one or two “specialty” items, like the pizza at Pizza & Pints) and fans could bring a chair or sit on the grass out in right field and dream of Mike Trout or Austin Slater.
Its charms are undeniable, but sustainable? The workers in the ballpark are all genial and helpful, thrilled with having major league baseball in their humble yard, but maybe we should check back in August. At the River Cats’ game Sunday, I spoke with an employee working in the team store who laid out the process of turning it from a River Cats’ store to an Athletics’ store over the course of roughly 24 hours. Starting at 5 p.m. Sunday, three overlapping shifts worked through the night and well into Monday, folding and packing and hauling out all the minor league gear, storing it somewhere she isn’t privy to, while hauling in all the big league gear, unpacking it, unfolding it and displaying it nicely enough that someone might feel compelled to forfeit $134.99 for an authentic JJ Bleday jersey.
As she detailed the process, and the time constraints, knowing this River Cats-to-A’s and vice versa conga will take place roughly every 10 days to two weeks over the next six months, I was beginning to feel stressed just looking at every cap, sock, T-shirt, bobblehead, Dinger the mascot doll and performance men’s half-zip pullover sweatshirt that awaited their attention.
“Will it get done?” I asked her.
She laughed.
“I guess it has to,” she said, “but I’m off tomorrow.”
And poof, just as there was no sign of the A’s on Sunday, there was no sign of the River Cats on Monday. Everything brick red and gold was replaced by something kelly green and gold. Even the sign proclaiming Sacramento’s Triple-A championships was replaced by one proclaiming the A’s nine World Series wins, five in Philadelphia and four in Oakland. But, like everything else involving the 2025 Athletics, there is no geographic designation. As the A’s know better than most, you are where you are until you’re where you want to be.
Sports
What are torpedo bats? Are they legal? What to know about MLB’s hottest trend
Published
11 hours agoon
April 3, 2025By
admin
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.
Read: An MIT-educated professor, the Yankees and the bat that could be changing baseball
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?
In addition to Stanton and Lindor, Yankees hitters Anthony Volpe, Austin Wells, Jazz Chisholm Jr., Cody Bellinger and Paul Goldschmidt have used torpedoes to great success. Others who have used them in games include Tampa Bay’s Junior Caminero, Minnesota’s Ryan Jeffers and Toronto’s Davis Schneider. And that’s just the beginning. Hundreds more players are expected to test out torpedoes — and perhaps use them in games — in the coming weeks.
How is this different from a corked bat?
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.
Sports
St. Pete to spend $22.5M to fix Tropicana Field
Published
11 hours agoon
April 3, 2025By
admin
-
Associated Press
Apr 3, 2025, 12:48 PM ET
ST. PETERSBURG, Fla. — The once and possibly future home of the Tampa Bay Rays will get a new roof to replace the one shredded by Hurricane Milton with the goal of having the ballpark ready for the 2026 season, city officials decided in a vote Thursday.
The St. Petersburg City Council voted 7-1 to approve $22.5 million to begin the repairs at Tropicana Field, which will start with a membrane roof that must be in place before other work can continue. Although the Rays pulled out of a planned $1.3 billion new stadium deal, the city is still contractually obligated to fix the Trop.
“We are legally bound by an agreement. The agreement requires us to fix the stadium,” said council member Lissett Hanewicz, who is an attorney. “We need to go forward with the roof repair so we can do the other repairs.”
The hurricane damage forced the Rays to play home games this season at Steinbrenner Field across the bay in Tampa, the spring training home of the New York Yankees. The Rays went 4-2 on their first homestand ever at an open-air ballpark, which seats around 11,000 fans.
Under the current agreement with the city, the Rays owe three more seasons at the Trop once it’s ready again for baseball, through 2028. It’s unclear if the Rays will maintain a long-term commitment to the city or look to Tampa or someplace else for a new stadium. Major League Baseball has said keeping the team in the Tampa Bay region is a priority. The Rays have played at the Trop since their inception in 1998.
The team said it would have a statement on the vote later Thursday.
The overall cost of Tropicana Field repairs is estimated at $56 million, said city architect Raul Quintana. After the roof, the work includes fixing the playing surface, ensuring audio and visual electronics are working, installing flooring and drywall, getting concession stands running and other issues.
“This is a very complex project. We feel like we’re in a good place,” Quintana said at the council meeting Thursday.
Under the proposed timeline, the roof installation will take about 10 months. The unique membrane system is fabricated in Germany and assembled in China, Quintana said, adding that officials are examining how President Donald Trump’s new tariffs might affect the cost.
The new roof, he added, will be able to withstand hurricane winds as high as 165 mph. Hurricane Milton, one of the strongest hurricanes ever in the Atlantic basin at one point, blasted ashore Oct. 9 south of Tampa Bay with Category 3 winds of about 125 mph.
Citing mounting costs, the Rays last month pulled out of a deal with the city and Pinellas County for a new $1.3 billion ballpark to be built near the Trop site. That was part of a broader $6.5 billion project known as the Historic Gas Plant district to bring housing, retail and restaurants, arts and a Black history museum to a once-thriving Black neighborhood razed for the original stadium.
The city council plans to vote on additional Trop repair costs over the next few months.
“This is our contractual obligation. I don’t like it more than anybody else. I’d much rather be spending that money on hurricane recovery and helping residents in the most affected neighborhoods,” council member Brandi Gabbard said. “These are the cards that we’re dealt.”
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