At first, I felt a bit guilty for not pumping out this article in a more timely fashion. One of my idols, one of the greatest baseball players to ever lace ‘em up, has finally called it a career. That guilt has since subsided, however, as watching the first two months of the MLB season unfold has provided me an angle of attack for this piece that I doubt I would’ve thought of earlier.
Not an endorsement for putting things off, just a happy accident.
My first thought was to simply attempt to chronicle the career of a true hero of mine with a little Curtis Dixon twist on it. It would’ve been more or less a puff piece, but I promise it would’ve been beautiful. Instead, what I’ve realized through two months of the season, not to mention the past few years of Major League Baseball, is that the league is heading in a direction that couldn’t be less Ichiro… and I don’t like it.
This article will look at the career of the great Ichiro Suzuki. An ode to the Japanese pioneer’s brilliance, his approach, his cannon for a right arm, and his accolades. But more than that, you can consider this article an indictment on the state of baseball. The league Ichiro is leaving behind looks an awful lot like an even worse edition of the steroid-laced league he entered… minus the steroids. A league today where it’s okay to strikeout ten times in a row as long as you belt a dinger on the eleventh attempt.
Do I sound like a crusty grandfather, crying for the good ol’ days of small ball?
Maybe a little.
I imagine a common counterargument to this work is going to be that sports evolve, which obviously I understand. However, while I can get behind football’s evolution to a pass-first league, and basketball’s phasing out of the non-shooting big man and the consistent stretching of the definition of a “good shot,” this homerun or bust state of baseball is ridiculous.
I will first discuss the man that is the centerpiece of this article, Ichiro, and how his arrival was especially welcome in the era of Major League Baseball in which he entered. From there I will provide my arguments for why baseball is in a very bad spot, and why a player like Ichiro will be sorrowly missed in today’s game.
The late 90’s in baseball were all about power. The Yankees were in the midst of yet another dynasty, and baseball fans and average sports fans alike were obsessed, above all else, with the homerun title races. Roger Maris’ seemingly untouchable record of 61 dingers back in 1961 was suddenly under threat every season thanks to two unnaturally powerful men… Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire.
After hitting 36 homeruns in the 1997 season, Sosa would break Maris’ mark three of the following four years. With steroids in his veins and cork in his bat, Sosa would hit 66 bombs in 1998, followed by totals of 63, 50, and 64 in the subsequent three seasons. McGwire and his Schwarzenegger-esque arms would belt out 70 during that ’98 race, and then would bash another 65 the next year.
These two men substantially aided in the growth of baseball… no pun intended. Casual fans were tuning in every night, ratings were through the roof, and baseball had gotten itself back on track after the strike of 1994 that scorned many a baseball lover. But much like the men that caused the bounce back, these numbers were artificial. Many of those people weren’t watching because of a love for baseball, they just wanted to see guys tear the cover off the ball.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Pacific, a superstar was emerging. He was the antithesis of powerful. He had a meek frame, and a quiet personality. He had a passion for baseball from a very young age, and a father who pushed him in a manner that bordered on abuse. He was Ichiro Suzuki, and he was destroying the Pacific League of Japan. His swing defied baseball logic as he positioned his weight forward, eliminating the potential for a lot of pop of the barrel. But that didn’t matter one bit once the world realized that this guy was nearly impossible to get out. His lack of stature and unconventional batting style was no longer a concern for Major League clubs as Ichiro entered his late 20s. It was time to get Ichiro to America so he could display his brilliance to the world, and to give baseball fans more to cheer about than juiced up behemoths demolishing 500 foot blasts.
If the transition to Seattle was difficult for Ichiro in the 2001 MLB season, no one noticed. He had 242 hits that year, the most the league had seen since the Great Depression. Couple that with a rocket right arm in right field, and you’ve got yourself the most instantaneous superstar the sport has ever known. He had barely been in the league for a week when he performed one of the greatest outfield assists I’ve ever witnessed, an absolute bullet from his home in right field to gun down Terrence Long of the Oakland Athletics at third. It was a tremendous feat that was dubbed aptly, though uncreatively, “The Throw.”
His approach at the plate was the personification of elegance. The way he would stand up at the plate, at the back of the batter’s box with his feet within shoulder width apart, it was more reminiscent of Henry Rowengartner from “Rookie of the Year” than a force to be reckoned with. Someone with no knowledge of the man might think he was actually scared to be up there, but I can guarantee that the only individual that was intimidated during Ichiro’s plate appearances was whomever was hurling the ball his direction.
His pre-pitch routine was immaculately consistent. A subtle lean backwards as he stretched his right arm towards the mound, holding the bat vertically as he adjusted his jersey at the right shoulder. His knees nearly touching and slightly bent, all giving the impression that even the slightest gust of wind could topple him to the turf. What was most noticeable for me was his eyes. Always calm, always confident. It was not an intimidating look or posture, but intimidated his opponents were. And the way he held the bat, it appeared as though he was hardly gripping the instrument at all.
Then there was his swing.
It was more of a slash than anything else, but the barrel always found a way onto the baseball. I can’t imagine there has ever been a player that kept the infield as alert as Ichiro did. The reason being that the man was seemingly halfway to first base by the time the ball was jolted into play. I often wonder how many less hits Ichiro might have accumulated had he hit from the right side of the plate. His approach and magnificent speed led to a lot of base hits on balls that failed to exit the infield. He was truly one of a kind. A style of hitting that had never been witnessed before, and one that I have issues believing can or will ever be replicated.
The biggest disappointment from Ichiro’s career has to be his lack playoff success, or appearances for that matter. Not really anyone else to blame for that other than the management of the Mariners. This isn’t basketball, one superstar will never be enough in baseball. But Seattle had the best hitter that ever lived at the top of their order for 11 full seasons and couldn’t make any noise after his debut season. Even more disappointing is the fact that for whatever reason the AL West only had four teams during Ichiro’s entire tenure. It’s a shame that Ichiro never got a chance to experience baseball in late October, but in no way should that take away from the career of this great man.
The lack of playoff appearances is surprising when one considers the fact that Ichiro’s rookie MLB season in 2001 was not only the best season in franchise history for the Mariners, but one of the greatest seasons any team has had in the history of the sport. That year Ichiro became just the second player ever to win Rookie of the Year and MVP in the same season. He hit .350, stole 56 bases, and won a Gold Glove for his work in right field. Managed by the brilliant yet volatile Lou Piniella, the Mariners would go on to tie the major league record with 116 wins that year. Bret Boone, Mike Cameron, John Olerud, and legendary DH Edgar Martinez all had monster seasons at the plate, and Ichiro’s countryman Kazuhiro Sasaki had a strong year closing from the bullpen. After winning a tight series against Cleveland to open the playoffs, the Mariners would get manhandled by the Yankees who were seeking their fourth consecutive title (incidentally the Yanks would lose to Arizona in arguably the best World Series I’ve ever seen), and would never return to the postseason with Ichiro on their roster.
Ichiro’s 2004 season was his most impressive individual accomplishment. With a WAR of 9.2 it’s ridiculous that he somehow finished seventh in AL MVP voting. All the man did was belt 262 hits, breaking the all-time hits record held since 1920 by George Sisler, and a record that I have a very difficult time imagining being reached again. He won his fourth of ten consecutive gold gloves in right field, and finished the campaign with a .372 batting average.
Ichiro would notch 200 hits for ten straight years in Seattle, another untouchable record. He became only the 30th man to reach the prestigious 3000 hit club in Major League Baseball, which is simply amazing when considering he didn’t join the league until he was 28. Between Japan and the Majors, Ichiro totaled 4367 hits in his professional baseball career, 111 more than the great “Charlie Hustle,” Pete Rose. He would play late in his career with the Yankees and the Marlins, including a bit of postseason ball in the Bronx, but it was his years on the west coast that Ichiro will be remembered for.
Baseball changed a lot during Ichiro’s tenure. As I mentioned, Ichiro joined the league in the peak of the steroid era, when Sammy, Mark, and Barry were stealing the show with their beastly upper deck blasts. Then, in walks this quiet and slender phenom from a foreign land that was so different that he was impossible to dislike. Ichiro’s presence certainly aided the reputation of a sport that was rocked in a league wide scandal. He helped return the importance of getting on base and manufacturing runs, you know, the way baseball is meant to be played. Ichiro did everything right. He played hard, he was loved by his teammates and opponents alike, and he restored the beauty of the base hit.
Single after single. All career long.
Fast-forward to today, and what you will find is a sport that couldn’t be less Ichiro. While baseball probably needed big Mark McGwire and Slammin’ Sammy to regain the popularity lost from the strike, it was at its best after the real heavyweight roid monkeys had departed from the sport.
As a baseball fan, I’m clearly not against the homerun. In fact, it’s the most entertaining aspect of the game.
Well, at least it used to be…
At the tail end of the steroid era we were gifted with a stretch of baseball the way it should be played. An era where runs weren’t slaughtered, but manufactured (especially in the National League). Sure the four and five spots in the batting order were reserved for your bombers. In the American League, that typically always meant a DH and a powerful first baseman with questionable defense. The three hole was a team’s best hitter, and the two leadoff spots were speedy guys that could get on base for the big boys to drive them home.
Homeruns were the cherry on top of a game that was about contact and getting on base. In today’s game, they mean nothing at all.
While baseball started trending towards this bomb or bust state we find ourselves in several years ago, it was in 2017 that the transition really started to expose itself. Suddenly, baseball was no longer about contact at the plate and manufacturing runs. It wasn’t just a couple guys on the roster that we could look forward to potentially driving one out of the park. Out of seemingly nowhere every hitter, one through nine, was trying to annihilate the baseball.
The 2017 season broke the record for total homeruns in a season set back in 2000, right in the heart of the steroid era. There are two things in particular that are very interesting about the manner in which this record was accomplished. First of all, it was set with a couple weeks still remaining in the 2017 season… aka it wasn’t even close. And second, only five players in all of baseball hit more than 40 dingers in 2017, compared to sixteen 40-homerun guys in 2000. What this suggests is that not only are more balls sailing out of ballparks, but that the power is extending further down the lineup than it ever did in the juiced up MLB at the turn of the century.
At this point you may be asking, “Why does he care? Isn’t more offense good for television viewers? For fans at the games?”
Well, there are three major factors behind my bitter attitude towards the state of baseball today:
1) There are now so many homeruns hit every day that they have lost all their luster and appeal. I’m almost surprised when solid contact is made and the ball doesn’t leave the yard. Like I said… runs are no longer manufactured, they’re slaughtered.
2) There isn’t actually more offense in baseball these days in terms of runs scored. The explosion in homers hasn’t led to more scoring, just a different means of scoring. Despite the 2017 season demolishing the homerun record, seven of the nine seasons from 2000-2008 actually produced more total runs.
3) With more power comes less contact.
Let’s focus in on that third point for a moment. By “less contact” I am referring to the insane amount of strikeouts that baseball’s evolution has forced us to watch. While that 2017 season was groundbreaking with the tremendous amount of blasts that were hit, that’s not the only record that was shattered that year. 2017 was also the first time in the approximately 150 years of the MLB where there were over 40,000 strikeouts. More strikeouts means longer at-bats and fewer balls put in play. But the weirdest part about it is that teams don’t care.
Striking out no longer means you’re a bad hitter, it just means you didn’t hit a homerun this time. It’s ludicrous, and more than that, it’s not baseball.
Before you start thinking that I’m focusing too heavily on the 2017 season from two years ago, remember that I also mentioned that 2017 was just the beginning. The 2018 season actually set a new record with over 41,000 K’s, and things have not slowed even a little bit here in 2019. There were 11,000 more strikeouts last year than there were in 2005.
In terms of homeruns, we’ve learned through the opening two months of this season that 2017 was no anomaly, but an evil omen. This April (including late March) saw 1,144 homeruns. Think about it this way, prior to 2015 baseball went ten full seasons without a single 1,000 homerun month. This is in freaking April! It’s basically still winter in April in several MLB cities. The air is colder and thicker, and science dictates that the baseball just won’t fly as far in cooler conditions. Nevertheless, 2019 saw the opening month record for homeruns completely decimated, proving that the boom or bust evolution of baseball is clearly going to get worse before it gets any better.
Oh, and by the way, this past month of May took things a step further by having the most homeruns hit in any month, in any season, ever.
They say that the launch conditions aren’t changing. They say that the baseballs aren’t different. And yet here we are in early June and 2019 has already set numerous homerun records. The Minnesota Twins had been out homered by their opponents in 26 of the past 27 seasons. This year they became the second team ever to hit 100 dingers in their first 50 games. By May 23 they had six games where they hit at least five bombs, a record for the least amount of games for a team to do so, accomplished 16 games faster than any team before. And just last night, the Phillies and Diamondbacks combined for a preposterous 13 homeruns… you guessed it, another MLB record. Furthermore, to reinforce my point about how far down the lineup the power surge goes, the only bona fide slugging superstar on either team, Mr. Bryce Harper, didn’t hit any of them.
We are about a third of the way into the season and seven players are on pace for 50 dingers. Only 17 players had ever hit 50 prior to 1990. Everyone is trying to go deep, everyone is striking out, the game is moving at a snails pace, and base-hit specialists are becoming fewer and farther between.
This is the real reason for this article. Ichiro will be missed now more than ever for fans like myself because there isn’t a place in the league anymore for Ichiro-style players. The base-hit factory that was Ichiro Suzuki would be completely overshadowed if he was in the prime of his career today. No one wants to hit singles anymore, and apparently no one wants to watch them anymore either.
This modern era of baseball has shredded some of the most beautiful elements of the game. Homeruns and strikeouts are good, while contact and getting on base are an afterthought. Manufacturing runs is now a concept of the past. While it’s truly fascinating that after all these years every sport is still finding ways to evolve, baseball is doing so in a manner that is making the sport unrecognizable from its former and better self. The bomb or bust mentality may be enjoyable for some, but not this fan. It would be one thing if all these homeruns were putting more runs on the scoreboard, but as I’ve revealed in this article that just isn’t so. It’s simply a different way of manifesting runs, a way that makes watching the games more of a chore than an enjoyable activity. The homerun is no longer the most exciting part of the game. It can’t be when every guy in the lineup is attempting to launch every time they step into the box.
Ichiro, I think you got out just in time. You’re leaving a sport that is unapologetically saying “we don’t need you anymore.” I will miss this man more than ever as (if) I continue to watch this sport the way it’s being played today. He was a pioneer in every sense of the word. The first non-pitching superstar (looking at you Mr. Nomo) from Japan that defied every thing that was big in baseball at the time of his arrival, has now left a game that has done everything it can to move away from all the things he did so beautifully.
Congratulations on a truly phenomenal career Ichiro. And shame on the direction baseball is heading without him.