A Quebec Company Is Redesigning the Tools and the Traditions of Baseball
Taking a swing.
There are certainly faster sports (hockey). Fiercer (football). More difficult (golf). And more quirky (cheese rolling). But when it comes to the most traditional, it’s hard to beat baseball. The superstars may come and go, and the fortunes of various teams may rise and fall, but the sport itself clings hard to its traditions, with everything from the snail-like pace to the knickerbocker uniforms to the peanuts and Cracker Jacks rooted in a previous age.
There is little wonder why the Quebec City sporting equipment company B45 has caused such a stir. The company’s birchwood “torpedo bat” (one of several versions making their way to major league players) tinkers with the traditional design of the sport’s signature tool, changing the way players make contact with the ball—and in so doing, perhaps upending the way the sport is played and appreciated.
Even a cursory glance at B45’s torpedo bat reveals some obvious differences with the one from Little League. A conventional bat has a smooth, continuous taper down the length of its barrel. A torpedo bat is swollen in the middle before coming to a finer point—somewhat similar to a bowling pin, or its namesake naval weapon. While the length and width remain the same as a traditional bat, the “meat” of a torpedo is shifted closer to the hitter, making the bat quicker to swing, easier to control, and for some batters, a more effective counter to 95-mile-per-hour fastballs.
It’s not the first time enthusiasts have tinkered with the design of the game’s equipment. But it may end up being the most consequential. Recently, a handful of New York Yankees hitters used torpedo bats on their way to a team record nine home runs against the hapless Milwaukee Brewers. The 20-9 shellacking set off a firestorm of debate among baseball aficionados: should torpedo bats be banned or blessed by the league, condemned or celebrated by fans? Judging from the number of orders B45 received from pros after the game (over 30 of them in the space of a weekend), players seem to have voted for the latter.
To anyone but the die-hard fan, all the hullabaloo at home plate might seem like small ball. But it brings up an intriguing question: in an age of unsettling change, what value do we place on things that remain the same? More than most sports, baseball is more than a sport: it is a nine-inning embodiment of a simpler time, one lived at a slower pace, with traditions known and respected by all. It doesn’t take a fan to see that’s what a lot of people are looking for these days—on the diamond and off.
