Now that MLB's plan to combat the use of foreign substances has firmed up, with the issuance of a memo to teams, the first day that umpires will bear formal instructions to check pitchers will come Monday. And if Jacob deGrom's elbow is OK and the Mets' rotation remains in order, he could be the first pitcher to take the mound that day, in a Mets' 5:10 ET start of a doubleheader against the Atlanta Braves.
At some point, either he or Atlanta's Ian Anderson could become the first pitcher intercepted by an umpire, likely at the end of a half-inning. It would be an interesting twist if deGrom -- who teammates say does not use the kind of next-level foreign substances that compelled baseball to actually enforce a rule already on the books -- would get that honor. And maybe that would be appropriate messaging within the sport: Everybody gets checked, including the best pitcher on the planet.
If commissioner Rob Manfred applies lessons learned from baseball's history of rule enforcement, including his own, then he will insist on widespread and constant scrutiny of pitchers for foreign substances. If some pitcher is actually found with Spider Tack or some kind of homemade version of super glue, then Manfred will have no choice but to apply the full weight of discipline, whether the nabbed player is an All-Star or a Triple-A call-up.
What baseball officials would really love is for pitchers who have relied on foreign substances -- and any of their position-player accomplices who might be willing to dab up a belt or shin guard -- to be scared straight, to go cold turkey and go back to using rosin. What baseball officials would really love is for umpires to check gloves and hats and belts and pant legs and forearms and find nothing -- no Pelican Grip, no pine tar, no sunscreen. Nothing. That way, there doesn't have to be suspensions and possible grievances over suspensions, and this situation inflaming an already tense relationship between Major League Baseball and players.
However, if something is found, Manfred needs to draw upon the history that should tell him this: Some players and some staffers will always look for a competitive advantage, even if that occurs at the expense of peers, and when baseball ignores festering issues, they almost always get worse.
About a month after Olympic sprinter Ben Johnson was stripped of his gold medal at the 1988 Olympics, Jose Canseco answered questions about alleged steroid use before a World Series broadcast. In 1991, then commissioner Fay Vincent sent a memo to all teams reiterating that players found to be in possession of "illegal drugs ... including steroids" are subject to discipline and permanent expulsion. All teams had the power through the '90s to ask for a player to be tested -- although the union, at the height of its strength in those days, would've almost certainly prevented that from happening -- and no team ever asked for that. The leadership on both the management and union sides mostly ignored a performance-enhancing drug problem that steadily grew, then exploded, until the player and MLB agreed to the initial drug-testing program that went into effect in 2003.
As a result, the sport suffered as dozens of the game's biggest stars were implicated, from Canseco to former MVP Ken Caminiti to Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa and Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds, with the latter two still running short in the Hall of Fame voting. The steroid era was devastating for the perception of baseball. Late in the 2017 season, the Boston Red Sox and New York Yankees engaged in a spat over Boston's use of electronics in its dugout during the game, and in rendering discipline, Manfred had a chance to come down with a hammer that might've impacted the use of technology in sign-stealing. Rather, he issued small fines and sent a memo to all teams -- and what we know now is that his discipline did nothing to deter the Houston Astros from continuing to use their trash-can banging system of relying signs to hitters.
Two and a half years later, the business of baseball was enveloped by the Astros' scandal, with three managers (A.J. Hinch, Alex Cora and Carlos Beltran) and one general manager (Jeff Luhnow) losing their jobs, the 2017 World Series forever stained within the sport and rivals, including CC Sabathia, Clayton Kershaw and Mike Trout and many others criticizing their Houston peers. Manfred had hoped that his memo would compel players and staffers to be on their best behavior -- a naïve thought, as it turned out. The first concerns within the Major League Baseball offices about how foreign substances have been used with more competitive efficiency were raised by former pitcher Chris Young, now the general manager of the Texas Rangers -- and in the last two spring trainings, MLB has tried to affect change with memos. But it did not take the step of instructing umpires to enforce the rule. With some position players now loudly complaining, however, and with offensive numbers at record lows, baseball has moved to a rare midseason change for foreign-substance enforcement.
For the sake of the hitters, for the sake of pitchers who are not using foreign substances but want a level playing field, and for the sake of offense and action, Manfred needs to use the full potential weight of discipline to alter behavior. If somebody is caught, that player needs to be busted -- and MLB should consider penalties for teams, like managerial or pitching coach suspensions, to help change team culture thinking, to build peer pressure on players who consider using foreign substances at a time when many in the sport want a return to a level playing field. The heavy discipline didn't come down during almost the entirety of the steroid era. It should've happened as teams weaponized electronics for sign-stealing. Now it must happen if Manfred wants the players and staffers to take the umpires' checks and enforcement seriously.