Precisely 60 feet, 6 inches from home plate.
Well, 128 years is one hell of a run. But now even the mound is on the move. Starting this summer, sources tell The Athletic, in eight Atlantic League parks from Kentucky to Long Island, that pitcher’s rubber will creep 12 inches farther from the plate than it has been at any time since 1893 – to an unfamiliar distance of 61 feet, 6 inches.
That’s because, in conjunction with its friends at Major League Baseball, the independent Atlantic League is up to its old experimentation tricks again. And moving that rubber back a foot is only half of this story.
Besides the mound change, the two leagues also announced Wednesday that the Atlantic League will be trying out another new wrinkle – this one a variation on the Universal DH that you actually read about right here in The Athletic. They’re even using a name that was suggested by, well, me: the “Double Hook.”
Here’s the way the Double Hook works: Every team starts out the game with a designated hitter. But once the starting pitcher leaves the game, that team also loses its DH. Hence the DH 2.0 terminology – Double Hook. Brilliant, right? Wait. Don’t answer yet.
So why should a Dodgers fan or a Cubs fan or a Twins fan pay attention to anything that happens in the Atlantic League? Hey, why do you think? Because what happens in the Atlantic League doesn’t always stay in the Atlantic League.
You know the ever-popular (except with artists once known as situational left-handers) three-batter rule? Don’t forget, it started in the Atlantic League in 2019. It’s now in its second season in the big leagues. And a bunch of other 2019 Atlantic League rule-change experiments have already made their way to various minor leagues for further examination in 2021.
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Originally Posted by Mizzou_8541:
Is Whit the most underrated guy in MLB?
https://theathletic.com/2517979/2021...ected-players/
‘He’s a guy you just admire’: How the Royals’ Whit Merrifield became one of baseball’s most respected players
by
Alec Lewis
Originally Posted by :
KANSAS CITY, Mo. — Ned Yost thinks Whit Merrifield’s consistent offensive production has been unbelievable, and from a man who has so often believed in players when others did not, the comment speaks volumes.
Merrifield, the All-Star second baseman, has also proven to be a right fielder and a center fielder and, really, anything else the Royals need him to be. He enters play Wednesday having played in 317 consecutive games, the longest active streak in MLB. He has twice led the majors in hits during the streak. He has twice led MLB in stolen bases. He has led MLB in triples.
And he has continued to improve, even at age 32. This year, through eight games, he’s hitting the ball harder than ever (with an average exit velocity of 90.4 mph) and chasing fewer pitches than ever (25.8 percent).
“I’ve been in this game a long time,” said Yost, the former Royals manager who still talks baseball with general manager Dayton Moore. “I think Whit was the one player I missed on. I never thought Whit would become what he’s become. I felt strongly about Eric Hosmer, Salvador Perez, Mike Moustakas, Alcides Escobar, Lorenzo Cain and Hunter Dozier being solid big-league players. I never felt that about Whit. I felt Whit would be a real solid utility guy at the big-league level when he got the chance, but I never expected him to be one of the best hitters — if not the best hitter in all of baseball — for years running. I missed on that. But the consolation to myself is everybody missed it, too.”
They do not miss anymore.
Asked about Merrifield on Thursday before the Royals played the Chicago White Sox, Hall of Fame manager Tony La Russa said: “He’s a guy you just admire. Just the overall ability and consistency.” Asked about Merrifield on Monday before the Royals played the Los Angeles Angels, World Series-winning manager Joe Maddon said this: “I’m a big fan. He’s a good baseball player. A real good baseball player.”
Maybe casual fans haven’t noticed, perhaps because of the Royals’ low national profile, but those on the inside of the game are well aware of the player Merrifield has become. So how did so many people miss on Merrifield for so long? And how has he been able to maintain, or even raise, his level of consistency? The answers aren’t obvious, but one of Merrifield’s most impressive characteristics was from the get-go.
Ray Tanner, the longtime baseball coach at South Carolina and now the school’s athletic director, noticed Merrifield’s confidence the day Merrifield stepped on campus.
“For him, it was like, ‘OK, here we go. Put me in wherever you want to play me. I am going to play it. And I am going to play it well,’’ Tanner said.
Merrifield played 62 of 63 games as a freshman. He batted .326, scored 58 runs, stole a team-high 11 bases and was named to the 2008 SEC all-freshman team. His production didn’t wane in 2009. He went 4 for 6 in an NCAA regional against East Carolina, but the Gamecocks lost. The next year, in 2010, Merrifield’s team made the College World Series.
If scouts hadn’t believed in his hitting ability or his makeup until then, well, the walk-off that will forever be etched in South Carolina history might have done the job. Merrifield delivered the winning single in the bottom of the 11th to give the Gamecocks the championship.
Still, the 6-foot-1, then 165-pounder slipped to the ninth round. The Royals snagged him, seeing a potential big-league utility opportunity in his future.
“It’s just funny,” Yost said recently. “You look at certain players, and they stand out to you. You can judge and see a kid’s going to be a really good player. I’ve had really good success being able to do that. But he’s the one guy I felt like, ‘OK, he’s going to be a real good Double-A player.’ And, ‘OK, he’s going to be a real good Triple-A player.’ And, ‘He may be a good utility player.’ I didn’t know he’d be an All-Star or perennial All-Star.”
The minor-league numbers didn’t blow away anyone within the Royals organization or anyone outside the organization, for that matter. He posted a .726 OPS at Low-A Lexington in 2010. A .706 OPS at High-A Wilmington in 2011. A .707 OPS at High-A and Double-A Northwest Arkansas in 2012. A .710 OPS at Double A in 2013.
Watching from afar, Yost noticed a few qualities he wishes he’d put more stock into.
“His hand-eye coordination was phenomenal,” Yost said. “His ability to recognize what a pitch is going to do was phenomenal. His knowledge of the strike zone was phenomenal.”
Players typically tend to maintain those abilities at the higher levels, but the Royals still kept him on a slow track. In 2014, Merrifield posted an .840 OPS at Double A and at Triple-A Omaha. That spring, Yost watched Merrifield play all over the field. The versatility impressed him. Because while so many guys say they are willing to play anywhere, how many can actually do that? And play well?
That, Yost believed, was a testament to Merrifield’s internal belief, which existed even as so many others doubted.
Earlier this week, between innings at Kauffman Stadium, the Royals’ in-stadium entertainment crew played a video. It was Merrifield discussing his Mount Rushmore of favorite athletes. He chose Derek Jeter, Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan, and his father Bill.
Merrifield’s favorite NBA star once said: “My attitude is that if you push me towards something that you think is a weakness, then I will turn that perceived weakness into a strength.”
Merrifield might not know that quote, but it sure applies to him. Don’t take that as a comparison to Jordan — it’s not — the words speak to an attitude the Royals’ brass has always seen. It would have been easy for Merrifield to have doubts about his big-league future, especially on one of the more gut-wrenching nights of his life.
It was 2015, and Merrifield was on the field in Omaha, playing for the Triple-A StormChasers. Merrifield’s parents, Bill and Kissy, were streaming the game at home in Advance, N.C., while Merrifield’s brother, Hite, was asleep upstairs. By that point, Whit had picked up where he’d left off after his career-best 2014 season. Meanwhile, the big-league Royals were racing toward the playoffs. An opportunity for Merrifield to be part of that team seemed fitting.
Merrifield had always played every inning of every game, so his parents were dumbfounded when they noticed that he didn’t jog out toward the field that night. The announcers on the telecast highlighted Merrifield receiving hugs and high-fives in the dugout. A promotion seemed evident.
Bill Merrifield knew the feeling. He, too, had toiled in the minors after a successful collegiate career at Wake Forest. The California Angels drafted him in the second round of the 1983 MLB Draft.
Guess who managed him the following year? Maddon.
“I think he hit 29 home runs,” Maddon said recently. “A great guy.”
Three minor-league seasons later, Bill was traded to the Pittsburgh Pirates. Three games after the trade, the Pirates called him up from Triple-A Vancouver. He flew to Seattle. Then Texas. Then Atlanta. Then Pittsburgh. He took batting practice on the field. The dream, he thought, had arrived.
So many years later, Bill’s son, Whit, thought the same thing. He grabbed his equipment and headed to the clubhouse. He called his parents, unsure if the news was official, but he had a feeling. He hung up. Meanwhile, Bill, Kissy and Hite hopped in the car. They had mentally prepared to be in attendance when Whit made his major-league debut. Driving was the quickest way.
But two exits away from their house, Whit called back. Bill and Kissy didn’t let Whit speak first.
“We’re on the way!” they said. “We’re on the road! We’ll see you in Kansas City!”
There was silence.
“Turn around,” Whit told them. “They stopped me as I was walking out. They decided to take someone else.”
Bill could hear the heartbreak. And he could relate. Rain shortened the batting practice session that day in Pittsburgh. Bill returned to the clubhouse. Then-manager Jim Leyland called Bill into his office. Bill expected to go over signs or a plan of attack against the next night’s opposing pitcher. Leyland, sitting at his desk, said, “Bill, we want you to report to our instructional league in Bradenton, Fla.”
That night, Bill watched the Pirates’ game in the hotel. He thought he’d be back up in no time but did not return. The next year, the Pirates traded him to the Rangers. They assigned him to Triple A. He broke his foot. His dream never saw the light of day. Heck, even Moonlight Graham got to play an inning in the field. Bill Merrifield, who settled for 2,249 minor-league plate appearances, finished baseball at age 26 and started a family.
In the aftermath of the night Whit Merrifield won’t ever forget, he struggled at Triple-A Omaha, as the Royals contended their way to a World Series title. Merrifield wasn’t on that team. After the season, he thought about giving up the game. The next spring even, he was passed up by Adalberto Mondesi as the Opening Day second baseman.
His attitude could have shifted. He could have lost his edge. Instead, Merrifield returned to Triple A and flashed more power than ever (eight home runs in 69 games), earning an opportunity in that 2016 season.
“And once we gave him an opportunity,” Yost said, “he never looked back.”
Remember the Jordan quote?
Before Merrifield received his big-league opportunity, in December 2015, he sat at home in North Carolina., and had a conversation with his dad. Whit was dejected.
“What else can I do?” he asked his dad. “I hit .340 in Triple A. I played seven different positions. I’ve done everything they’ve asked. Is this really going to happen?”
Bill, just trying to stand by his son, thought of the one weakness.
“The only thing you’re not doing is driving the ball out of the park,” Bill said. “So we have to change your swing a little bit to get some backspin, and you have to get stronger so that the doubles that you’re hitting will go out of the park.”
At night that winter, they’d meet at Wake Forest’s baseball facility. Bill would throw Whit pitches. Whit focused on letting go of the bat with his top hand to create backspin. He also lengthened his follow-through. The changes, combined with 20 more pounds, elevated his power potential.
That said, Merrifield didn’t start selling out for power. He maintained his hand-eye coordination, his pitch recognition and his knowledge of the strike zone. Those qualities allowed him to succeed so early at the big-league level, posting a .716 OPS in 81 games in 2016.
Still, there remained weaknesses. He chased 34.4 percent of pitches outside of the strike zone. Attempting to cut down that rate, he consumed himself with data. He’d spend hours the night before games, assessing specific pitchers’ numbers, and what they threw in certain counts. All of the data threw him off, so he backed off, and found what was comfortable for him: seeing how the opponents’ pitches move.
Merrifield’s hope was that one day pitchers would stress over how to get him out, and in 2019, he started to predict adjustments from the opposition. He’d ambush first-pitch fastballs for home runs. He’d poke pitches on the outside corner to the opposite field. He’d even foul off pitches and realize immediately why he’d missed them. Nowadays, he’s not only hitting the ball harder and chasing less than ever, but he’s also swinging more than ever and making more contact with pitches in the strike zone.
“I don’t know what took us so long to give him an opportunity in the big leagues and I hold myself responsible as much as anyone,” Yost said. “He had a dogged belief in his abilities. He knew how good he was. It just took time for us to see it.”
Now, those within the game see it, too.
“He can play different positions and he’s developed into as good of a hitter as you want to see,” La Russa said. “He creates huge problems for us. You can admire it, respect it, and hope he has a lousy weekend.”
Maddon, thinking about what his former player’s son has become, took things a step further. He spoke highly of Royals players such as Jorge Soler, Carlos Santana and Andrew Benintendi. Then he returned to the player who has driven in or scored 18 of the Royals’ 43 runs in 2021.
“Whit is (Kansas City’s) anchor,” Maddon said.
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