The equipment arms race in sports is nothing if not fascinating. We’ve just witnessed the introduction of the “torpedo bat” in MLB, and I can’t help but see striking parallels to how the curved hockey stick transformed the NHL decades ago. Both innovations represent those rare moments when equipment design fundamentally alters how a game is played.
Taking a step back, what’s particularly interesting here is how these changes follow remarkably similar patterns:
The curved hockey stick emerged in the 1960s through what was essentially an accident—Stan Mikita’s damaged stick created an unexpected advantage that Bobby Hull then adopted. This “banana blade” completely transformed shooting dynamics, making pucks move in ways goalies simply couldn’t predict. The torpedo bat, meanwhile, comes from more deliberate scientific design, with physicist Aaron Leanhardt creating a bowling pin-shaped bat that redistributes mass to optimize contact.
I think what we’re witnessing with the torpedo bat in 2025 is the baseball equivalent of that hockey revolution. The Yankees’ record-tying 15 home runs in their first three games isn’t just a statistical anomaly—it’s evidence of a fundamental shift in offensive capabilities. Players like Jazz Chisholm Jr. and Anthony Volpe are showcasing what happens when equipment innovation meets athletic talent.
What fascinates me most is the regulatory response. The NHL eventually limited stick curvature to 19mm, essentially acknowledging that innovation needed boundaries to preserve competitive balance. MLB now faces a similar crossroads. Do they embrace the torpedo bat’s potential to increase scoring and excitement? Or do they see it as a threat to the game’s traditional balance?
The tension between innovation and tradition is nothing new in sports, but it’s particularly acute when equipment changes can so dramatically alter outcomes. I don’t believe either innovation is inherently “good” or “bad” for their respective sports—they’re simply evolutionary forces that push games in new directions.
Where I think this gets particularly interesting is in how these innovations democratize talent. The curved stick allowed players with less raw strength to generate more powerful and deceptive shots. Similarly, the torpedo bat’s optimized sweet spot might allow contact hitters to generate power previously reserved for physical specimens.
What’s clear is that both the NHL of the 1960s and the MLB of 2025 demonstrate that sports are never static. They evolve through a complex dance between athlete creativity, scientific advancement, and regulatory oversight. The torpedo bat, like the curved stick before it, isn’t just changing how the game is played—it’s changing how we think about what the game should be.