61 Feet, 6 Inches
I grew up pitching Knothole baseball in Cincinnati where the distance to home plate increased five feet every other year. When I was 12-13 years old, I was pitching from 55 feet. I remember watching the Little League World Series on ABC’s Wide World of Sports with disdain; the pitchers were only 45 feet from the plate! Most often I found myself pitching from a flat surface. I’ll never forget the day when the manager of one of our rival teams pounded in a 4 inch rubber slab in the pitcher’s circle prior to the game. The umpire simply told our team to pitch on the side of it. I knew I had made it when I turned 14 years old. I was throwing off a real mound, and the distance to the plate was a big league 60 feet, 6 inches.
Now it seems that MLB may be looking with disdain at the distance of 60 feet, 6 inches, the pitching dimension that has been in place since 1893. This summer the Atlantic League, an independent minor league affiliated with MLB and the new experimental laboratory for MLB changes, is moving pitcher’s mound back by one foot. The change is another stab at increasing the pace of play, the thought being that more balls will be put in play. An “anonymous” MLB official put it this way to the Washington Post: “We kept coming back to the fact that we can try to change four or five things . . . But we’d probably be negligent if we didn’t at least try the one solution that, while were calling it radical, might in and of itself be the solution.”
MLB’s offensive statistics so far in 2021 illustrate the problem. There have been five seasons where baseball teams have averaged less than 8 hits per game – 1907, 1908, and 1909 (the dead ball era), 1968 (the “Year of the Pitcher”, more later), and this season! Indeed, the current league batting average would qualify as the lowest in MLB history. Teams on average are striking out at a pace of more than one strikeout per inning for the first time in history. And here’s the number that is particularly concerning – in 36.5% of at bats this season the ball has NOT been put in play. At a time when MLB is anxiously awaiting the return of fans to the ballparks, it is failing to give them the game they deserve.
The evolution of the pitcher, pitcher’s mound, and the distance to home plate is fascinating. In the mid-19th century, the pitcher simply underhanded the ball to the batters from a pitching area 45 feet from home base. The idea was to have the batters put the ball in play (how novel). Since no balls or strikes were called, the pitchers might throw 300 pitches per game. Games were often very slow (sound familiar?). In 1884, pitchers were first permitted to throw overhand. And finally, in 1893, the pitching distance moved to 60 feet, 6 inches, and the pitcher’s mound was introduced.
From 1893 to 1950 the only limitation on the pitcher’s mound was that it could not be more than 15 inches high. Groundskeepers often adjusted the height of the mound to provide an advantage to the home team pitchers, or in some cases a disadvantage to the visitors. For example, it became widely known that the Indians Hall of Fame pitcher Bob Feller liked to pitch from a “mountaintop” which he could certainly count on in Cleveland. On the road though he was often faced with a more flattened mound! In 1950, MLB mandated that each pitching mound had to be exactly 15 inches high. That mandate, coupled with an expanded strike zone beginning in 1963, made life in the MLB tough for the hitters in the 1960s.
Statistics of the 1968 season, known as the “Year of the Pitcher”, exemplified how much the rules favored the pitcher. Bob Gibson of the Cardinals led the major leagues with a miniscule ERA of 1.12. The Dodgers’ Don Drysdale threw six consecutive shutouts during May and June. Indeed, 339 shutouts were recorded in the regular season out of 1,619 games played. To put those numbers in perspective, MLB had only 26 shutouts in all of 2019, the last full season. While you often hear the expression that the measure of a good hitter is if he achieves a .300 batting average, only Carl Yastrzemski of the Red Sox could meet that standard in 1968, leading the American League with a .301 average. Following the 1968 season, MLB responded by returning to the pre-1963 strike zone and more importantly, lowering the height of the mound from 15 to 10 inches.
The pendulum swung back to the hitters, especially during the Steroid Era from 1990-2005. While steroids made it to MLB’s banned substance list in 1991, testing for MLB players did not begin until 2003. The Commissioner’s office took a blind eye to the endless home runs accumulated by Bonds, Canseco, McGwire, Sosa, and many others. The 1998 season featured a home run chase by McGwire and Sosa of Roger Maris’ season home run record of 61. As ESPN broke in for seemingly every McGwire and Sosa at-bat during the September stretch run, television ratings soared and the record was shattered by both rival players. While many deemed the 1998 home run chase as saving baseball coming out of the 1994 strike season, others argued that it ruined the game. I am definitely in the latter camp.
Today’s reality is that the offensive numbers are back to being low, historically low. There are numerous factors. Pitching overall has become incredibly talented. It seems that every pitcher that goes on the IL (injured list) is replaced with someone who can throw as hard (95+ mph). Rosters are dominated by pitchers, usually 13 or 14 roster-eligible players. With that kind of pitching depth, starting pitchers are expected to throw only five innings and less than 100 pitches. Just check the total win columns for today’s starting pitchers. Defensive shifts are now in vogue, and most hitters are not adjusting. In 2015, only 20% of plate appearances involved shifts, while that number is 40% in 2021.
Is moving the mound back a foot to 61 feet, 6 inches a good idea? I’m kind of on the fence about it (and clearly not over it). As MLB contemplates changes through history, consultants are said to advise league officials that while “purists” are the ones who like close, low-scoring games, a majority of fans want to see more scoring and more HRs. Frankly, that’s a false assumption. I remember each morning during the 1990s driving to work on my commute and listening to the local radio station’s replay of the top ten “blasts” (HRs) broadcasted the night before. I just despised that. For me, the better air time would have been spent capturing wonderful defensive plays, triples (remember those), and clutch hits. You see, a purist, like every baseball fan, wants the ball in play, action on the field.
Until next Monday,
your Baseball Bench Coach