Rickey Henderson’s impact on the MLB as the all-time stolen bases leader

Tributes are pouring in for the great Rickey Henderson after we learned of the Hall of Famer’s sad, sudden death just days before his 66th birthday. Baseball’s “Man of Steal” has been rightly celebrated here, there and everywhere for his place in history as a leader in all-time stolen bases and runs, a member of the 3,000-hit club and, above all, a lovable and endlessly entertaining figure in the sport.

But the greatest tribute to Henderson came in action, not in words. And it happened before his death, when MLB took action to reverse engineer a game much more similar to Rickey’s – a game that encouraged speed and athleticism and emphasized and celebrated charisma.

“When we thought about new rules of the game over the last few years,” Commissioner Rob Manfred said in his statement, “we had the Rickey Henderson era in mind.”

Before we go any further, let’s be clear: there is no imitation Rickey. He was one of one.

Start with a biographical basis: Rickey batted right and threw left. Who does that? In MLB history – including the old 19th century – only 70 position players have accomplished this. Of those 70, only nine played 1,000 games. And of those nine, only one played well enough to make it to Cooperstown.

Rickey broke records and almost broke the game. Not only did he usurp Lou Brock’s steals mark; He did it in his age-32 season. His 1,406 steals are 49.9% more than runner-up Brock’s 938! This kind of thing just doesn’t happen in an important statistical category…unless someone comes along and hits more than 1,100 career home runs, narrowly surpassing Barry Bonds’ 762.

No one would ever tell you that Rickey Henderson was the greatest player of all time. We tend to withhold this discussion from people like Babe Ruth and Willie Mays. But with his special blend of power, speed and on-base skills, Rickey was the leading run scorer of all time in a game where scoring runs is all about. And he did it with a flair all his own.

So no, you can’t recreate Rickey. But you can summon his spirit.

And that’s exactly what the entire league has been trying to do recently.

When MLB introduced its pitch clock and accompanying pitcher pickoff limits and larger bases ahead of the 2023 season, Rickey expressed his distaste for the new rules as only he could.

“I wish the game would just be left alone,” he told Brittany Ghiroli of The Athletic, “but if they (make those changes) they would have to add 50 or 60 (steals) to mine.” That’s the new one Rule.”

Obviously it doesn’t work that way. Ty Cobb retroactively stopped hitting when MLB introduced a lighter, livelier, no-spit ball.

But Rickey’s reluctance was understandable. After all, he didn’t need the additional help of pickoff limits and bigger pockets on his way to 1,406 steals. And if that sacrosanct number ever came into question in the age of easier theft (as dubious as that may be), no official asterisk would be appropriate, because that’s not how MLB works. Rickey would be sent undeservedly into second place… this time against his will.

Still, it was telling that MLB unveiled the new rules alongside an ad narrated by Bryan Cranston that urged current players to “Run like Rickey!” It’s harder than ever to hit him (in the only 2024 season Aaron Judge and Juan Soto were the only players to eclipse the .401 on-base percentage that Henderson achieved throughout his career). made for yourself is difficult/impossible enough. But if you achieve it, “running like Rickey” is now encouraged in a way that simply wasn’t the case in a generation of risk-averse, analytics-driven stagnation.

Henderson played his last big league game in 2003 (he continued to play singles in 2004 and 2005), right around the time the game was reorienting its approach to stolen bases. As front offices gained a greater mathematical understanding of the value of an out, they raised the threshold for what was acceptable from a stolen base success rate standpoint. In short, they ran less and ultimately invested less time and money into developing base stealers.

In 2022, the final season before the changes, the Rangers led all MLB teams with 128 steals – or two fewer than Henderson managed alone in his record-setting 1982 season.

The new rules have only been in place for two seasons, and yet we have already seen a game-changing change. In 2024 the Average The number of steals per team went up to 121. So we’ve come a long way in a short period of time – actually run. And that’s before we even see how the design and development changes are reflected in the new environment.

Please run like Rickey. It’s what people want.

But there was so much more to Rickey’s game than just steals. It was that violent way he uncorked his bat… and then knocked it over. In this way, he popped his non-existent collar on the post-homer and then “ran” across the bases in a deliberately insanely slow, wide, hectic trot. It was the way he would snatch a flying ball with the semi-circular motion of his glove that, when repeated on Little League fields across the continent, always seemed to end with the ball slipping away and away from the fielder rolled away. Only Rickey could be that cool.

But it’s been worth it in recent years to see how the game gets over itself and how players gradually reduce the self-control of their personalities and allow people to be themselves. When Elly De La Cruz declares himself the “fastest man in the world” or Soto pauses to beat his chest in front of his dugout after hitting a home run in the ALCS, that’s real Rickey energy.

We also see a sport that tends to become younger and sportier thanks to the new rules. Returning to a 1980s pace – the pace at which Rickey played – and eliminating extreme defensive shifts in the infield rewards those who maintain themselves in the kind of physical condition that Henderson somehow maintained for 25 seasons (most recently he led the majors). steals at age 39).

Rickey Henderson knew what this baseball business was all about.

“I am a performer,” he once said. “I provide entertainment.”

It’s hard to believe that we now have to refer to him in the past tense, because everything about Rickey was so present, so alive, so direct. By ripping all those leadoff home runs, stealing the base successfully so that everyone in the building (you, the catcher, the pitcher, the pitcher’s mother, etc.) knew he really wanted to steal, and watching the game with such energy and enthusiasm playing, he made baseball the most vibrant version of itself. And it says a lot that as the MLB sought to broaden its appeal and inspire new generations of fans, it turned back the clock to a different style of play: