Entering 2020, MLB has questionable balls

MLB gets its balls from a Rawlings plant in Costa Rica, where all the pineapples grow. This allows them to be juiced. Ha-ha. Badaboom. But seriously, folks, every single ball is hand-stitched over a 10-minute period, and supposedly they are identical when rubbed in special mud from the Delaware River. (I assume the mud is laden with PCBs, but let's not think about that.) 

Here's the thing: Last year, something happened to the balls, and Yankee fans ought to start thinking about it. I'm sure the Yankees are.

Last year, balls soared out of MLB stadiums at an all-time record pace. Thus, sinker ball pitchers thrived, and fly ball pitchers - such as J.A. Happ - were battered to the point of PTSD. Hard-throwing rookies, who had risen through the ranks by using balls from China, found that fly ball outs became moonshots. Last year, something changed in the balls, and it begs an existential question: What happens if a sport cannot regulate its fundamental element?

In December, a four-egghead MLB committee - including professors of physics, math, statistics and mechanical engineering - concluded that 2019's baseballs showed "less drag" than in previous years due to inconsistent seam heights. This produced a record number of home runs - 6,776 - eclipsing the previous record, set in 2017, of 6,105. That's a huge increase, almost 10 percent. The professors also blamed the behavior of batters: Everybody was swinging (and missing) for the fences.

And here's an oddity that nobody has yet explained: In the 2019 post-season, the balls didn't go as far. Something changed. The study confirmed an analytical report by the St. Louis Cardinals, which found that in October, balls traveled on the average about five feet less in distance. (Remember any balls dying at the wall? During the regular season, they might have gone out.) MLB and Rawlings swear the same balls were used during the post-season. So, why didn't they go as far? Considering what we know about the ethics of various front offices, I'd say it's worth another study. 

The committee recommended that MLB parks store game balls in humidors. Presumably, that will help them keep their fine tobacco flavor. It could also lessen the HR totals. Supposedly, some parks will do this in 2020; I'm not sure if Yankee Stadium will be one. If some parks do it and others don't, this is ripe to become Houston's next scandal. How easy would it be to use humidor balls when the visitors come to bat, then the old juiced one for your team. Baseball had better think this through.

Another change in 2020: Triple A will switch to the MLB brand from Costa Rica, but the rest of the minors will continue using balls made in China. Apparently, Trump's tariffs only go so far. 

As a dumb fan, I find this talk about balls to be disconcerting. Last year, a few pitchers  - Masahiro Tanaka, anyway - seemed to adjust. Happ put together a nice final month, though it too little and too late to save his season. You wonder whether 2019 was an aberration... or simply, at age 37, the twilight of his career.

With Gerrit Cole, the Yankees would seem to be transitioning from a Murderers Row team into a pitching powerhouse. Right now, we have six decent starters challenging for five rotation slots, and that's not counting Domingo German and the scrum of rookies who might make the jump. Will the Yankees, who play in a modern bandbox, use humidors? Could they make a difference?

There is also the question of what MLB wants. Last year, it promoted the excitement of home runs, though this rubbed many old fans, who grew bored with the exploding volume strikeouts and walks. Entering 2020, the Yankees look like the best team in the AL. The question is, will the game itself have changed?