What's Wrong With Today's MLB??

What’s Wrong With Today’s MLB?

Is “Americas PastTime” becoming past its time??

Baseball in the 1970s wasn’t just a sport—it was a way of life. The crack of the bat, the smell of hot dogs in the stands, the rhythmic pace of the game—it was all part of a uniquely American experience. It was a time when kids played ball until dark, and you could hear the voice of Vin Scully, Mel Allen, or Curt Gowdy on the transistor radio in the background. You knew every player on your favorite team, their batting average, and how they’d fare against a tough lefty. It was gritty. It was pure. It was real baseball.

Today’s Major League Baseball? Shares a vague resemblance of the game we loved.

Let’s start with “the extra-inning rule”. In today’s game, if a contest goes to the 10th inning, each team starts with a runner on second base. What in the world is that? It’s as if someone running a beer league thought, “Hey, let’s wrap this thing up early,” and MLB said, “Sounds good!” That rule would’ve made Thurman Munson spit. It cheapens the game and turns a hard-earned, extra-inning grind into a gimmick. In the '70s, you played it out. If it took 16 innings, so be it. That was the drama of baseball—anything could happen, and it was earned, not given.

Then there’s the “seven-inning doubleheaders”.

Look, we get that COVID brought some necessary changes for a while—but now? What is this, American Legion ball? In the '70s, when you had a doubleheader, you settled in for a full afternoon and evening of real baseball—18 innings minimum. It was a marathon, not a sprint. Players didn’t complain, fans didn’t whine, and no one needed a day off because they played two in a row.

But perhaps the biggest tragedy of today’s game is the death of small ball.

In the 1970s, small ball was an art. You laid down a bunt to move a runner. You stole a base because you could read a pitcher’s pickoff move. You hit behind the runner to the opposite field because it was situational hitting, and it won games. The game was about smarts, instincts, and teamwork.

Now? It’s “home run or bust”. Strikeouts are up, walks are up, and batting averages are down. Nobody chokes up with two strikes. Nobody hits behind the runner. And nobody, it seems, knows how to “beat a shift”. In the '70s, if a team shifted on Rod Carew, he’d slap it the other way and laugh all the way to first. Tony Gwynn wasn’t from the '70s, but even he would’ve thought today’s hitters were lazy. It's like guys would rather strike out swinging for the fences than drop a soft single into left.

And let’s not forget the pace of play. In the 1970s, a game flowed. Sure, it wasn’t always fast, but it wasn’t filled with pitchers walking around the mound, batters stepping out between every pitch, and a half-dozen pitching changes every night. Managers like Sparky Anderson or Earl Weaver managed by feel, not iPads and analytics. The bullpen wasn't a revolving door—it was a place where a few tough arms waited, like Rollie Fingers or Goose Gossage, ready to go two or three innings to close a game. There were actually games where the bullpen might not work. Believe it or not, pitchers often finished what they started. When was the last time you saw a complete game effort ???

Even the **culture of the game** has shifted.

Players today wear chains, flip bats, and check their swing on a scoreboard screen between pitches. I even saw a player lose his iPhone sliding into third base. Leo Durocher would have sent him to the minors before the clock struck 12.

In the '70s, the field was a battlefield, not a fashion runway. It wasn’t about brand deals or bat speed stats—it was about getting on base, moving runners over, and winning ballgames.

And one more thing—loyalty to and from a team? That’s nearly extinct. Free agency was just beginning in the mid-70s, but players still spent most of their careers with one club. And… owners looked to build and maintain a winning team, not just one that’s profitable.

Today, rosters flip like pancakes. It’s hard to root for a team when the players change every season. In the '70s, you grew up with your heroes—Clemente, Mays, Bench, Morgan, Jackson, Yaz—and they stayed with you.

Baseball was personal. It was part of the family.

So yeah, something’s been lost. The game we loved—the one with hit-and-runs, pitchers who finished what they started, and ballparks that smelled like peanuts and beer instead of corporate luxury boxes—it’s been slowly slipping away. We don’t hate today’s game. We still watch. We still care. But man, do we miss what it used to be.

Baseball in the '70s wasn’t perfect, but it sure felt right. It was still “America’s pastime”—and it belonged to all of us.

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Want to relive those golden days of baseball? Tune into our Old Guy Sports podcast, where we celebrate the game we grew up with—warts, wood bats, and all.