It Turns Out ABS is a Machine That Turns Dansby Swansons into Rob Deers

[Matthew Trueblood]

Image courtesy of © Matt Marton-Imagn Images

Have you seen the new Peacock show "The Miniature Wife"? Yeah, me neither. It's baseball season. The NBA playoffs are here. My nephew played the lead in his high school's production of Anastasia last weekend, and I have a new niece and a new nephew to fawn over, and I really should clean out the garden beds now that it's finally warming up. And did I mention that it's baseball season? There's a lot going on!

I feel a little (no pun intended) (ok, pun intended, don't pretend you didn't see that one coming) like I've seen the show, though, because I've been watching so much of this season's baseball. Elizabeth Banks plays a shrunken person in the show, but if she were a strike zone instead of a wife, the show would be exactly like an MLB game in 2026. I assume so, at least. You know what? Actually, I don't know enough about the show to make any further meaningful assumptions. Let's all agree to binge "The Miniature Wife" together in November. Until then, it's time to focus on The Miniature Strike Zone.

This season brought the implementation of the ABS challenge system, and with it has come a smaller strike zone. The change actually began in 2025, when the league informed umpires they would be evaluated based on a smaller margin for error in advance of the onset of the computerized zone. Tightening tolerances at the edges and corners created a slightly smaller zone. This year, with the zone still called by humans but now actually, tangibly reinforced by computers, the effect has run in the same direction, but even more markedly.

For several years, now, the league has trended toward filling up the strike zone more. Fastballs are harder and livelier than ever; pitchers have better command of their non-fastballs than ever; and fielders are better-positioned than ever. You have to pitch more carefully, because hitters are also more powerful and more focused on hitting for power than ever, but on balance, the league has found the incentives favor throwing more pitches in the zone, so that's what they've been doing. This year, that trend has been stopped cold.

It's not that the league has stopped trying to fill up the zone, though. It's that the zone itself has gotten smaller. Hitters have noticed, too. The league's average swing rate is down. Twice as many batters have substantially reduced their swing rate so far this year (at least two percentage points lower than last year, with a qualifying number of plate appearances in each campaign) as have substantially increased it. 

Dansby Swanson isn't just participating in that trend; he's one of the foremost drivers of it. In fact, only two batters (Ceddanne Rafaela and Royce Lewis) have lowered their swing rates more than Swanson has in 2026. Last year, he swung at 50.3% of the pitches he saw. This spring, that number is down to 38.6%. He's being radically patient, in response to the shrinking of a zone he already understood well, but couldn't always cover.

Though umpires aren't perfect (and neither batters nor catchers challenge often enough to make them so by correcting their mistakes), theoretically, the top of Swanson's strike zone now is about 38.52 inches above the ground. (I say "about", here, not because two places after the decimal is too few to have the precision right, but because we only have Swanson's reported height of 6 feet to work with; the league has his height down to the millimeter.) The bottom of his zone is now roughly 19.44 inches above the ground. The first thing you should notice is that that's only 19 inches from high to low. Traditionally, we've thought about the strike zone as being taller than that, even for batters around Swanson's height. When you picture the zone in your head, you probably think of a rectangle taller than it is wide, by a noticeable margin. Well, it's now more like a square. Because any pitch that touches even the edge of the zone is called a strike if challenged, we can say that Swanson's zone is now basically 22.8 inches (the 17-inch width of home plate, plus the diameter of a baseball on each side) by 24.9 inches (19.1 inches, or a hair less, plus the same ball's width high and low). That's a lot like a square. It leaves Swanson needing to cover as much as he always has from east to west, but less from north to south.

He's taking full advantage of that, too. I looked at pitches in each of the zones about two balls' width wide along the top and bottom of Swanson's newly concretized zone, and at the pitches in between those railings. Swanson is swinging less in each of the three locales, but especially down at the bottom of the zone—and he's benefiting from the new shape of his zone, especially at the top.

	2025
Pitch Height	Swing Rate	Swings RV/100	Take Rate	Takes RV/100
1.4-1.9 ft.	48.0	-5.8	52.0	1.2
1.9-3.4 ft.	64.1	-1.3	35.9	-0.2
3.4-3.9 ft.	63.8	-1.7	36.2	0.0
	2026
Pitch Height	Swing Rate	Swings RV/100	Take Rate	Takes RV/100
1.4-1.9 ft.	25.7	0.0	74.3	1.0
1.9-3.4 ft.	54.1	-2.2	45.9	1.1
3.4-3.9 ft.	50.0	-13.6	50.0	2.6

At his best, Swanson is a guy who wants to see the ball up and attack it there. He has a relatively steep swing for a high-ball hitter, with plenty of tilt in his bat path and a combination of contact point and attack angle that says he's always trying to launch the ball. He's a low-average, high-power hitter. However, he often gets himself in trouble because (in the process of trying to see the ball up) he chases too many pitches above the zone. His zone now stops much lower than it used to, which makes it easier for him to be more selective up there, even as he maintains the aggressive mindset of seeing it up to make the high-value contact he seeks. Setting the pitches at which he didn't swing along the top of his new zone side-by-side really shows how the altered zone is making his life easier.

He's gotten a handful of calls, already, on pitches up and in that would have been—were—strikes last year. That takes a lot of pressure off him, as he looks for that belt-high pitch he can belt.

Along the bottom rail of the zone, it's harder to see the clear benefit in terms of extra calls, but Swanson can afford to let a few more called strikes accumulate there than he used to be able to. Not having to sweat the top of the zone makes the bottom edge of the zone less important. He's ahead in counts more often. He can be more selective, then aggressive on the pitches that enter his happy zone.

I've talked to Dansby Swanson a couple of times. Based on those conversations, I don't think this is quite how he's thinking about the changes to his approach this season. Whether you conceptualize it this way or not, though, this is what's happening. Swanson doesn't have exceptionally good feel for the barrel, like teammates Nico Hoerner and Alex Bregman do. He's still going to swing and miss quite a bit, and he's never likely to run a very high BABIP. Some younger versions of him could do that, but this one can't. 

Instead, Swanson's upside at the plate lies in his ability to hit the ball over the wall, without losing contact with all of his other skills. He has a well-engineered power hitter's swing, even though he's a fairly fast, glove-first shortstop and has never had elite bat speed. With this change in the league's rules and the shape of the strike zone, the best version of Swanson can emerge. It's just not the version you might have thought would be the best form of him.

Right now, Swanson is batting .187/.337/.400. He probably won't finish the season with such an extreme-looking line, but yes: Dansby Swanson really is a little bit like Rob Deer and Carlos Peña. Those guys swung for the fences, and they knew they would strike out a lot. By also walking a lot, though, they kept themselves viable even when the ball wasn't clearing the fences. When it did, they became star-caliber sluggers. A smaller zone means Swanson can focus that unique swing on pitches in a smaller space, and he's been very smart about doing so. If he continues to, he can still produce the 25-homer power that first made him a star in Atlanta, and he can walk enough to be a plus OBP guy, too. It might come with an ugly batting average, because the called strikes and the whiffs will add up to a rising strikeout rate, but that might be the best version of this late-career Swanson. 

I'm not sure we want ABS to turn many players into peak Rob Deer. It might be a sign of something troubling, just as "The Miniature Wife" leaves me with an inarticulable unease. There might need to be tweaks to this new, robot-influenced zone. For now, though, it's allowed Swanson to draw 18 walks and hit 5 homers in just 23 games. Well-utilized by a savvy veteran, the system is turning out to be a boon to the patient power hitter.

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[Bologna_Tugboat]

Please expand on your convos with Dansby — are you insinuating he’s not quite sharp enough to be implementing this advantage, or that he’s much more simplified in his approach? Or something else?

[Matthew Trueblood]

48 minutes ago, Bologna_Tugboat said:

Please expand on your convos with Dansby — are you insinuating he’s not quite sharp enough to be implementing this advantage, or that he’s much more simplified in his approach? Or something else?

Just that he doesn't think in numerical terms about it all. He's plenty smart enough to, and he accepts that kind of feedback, but he isn't consciously going, "The new rules make the zone smaller. I'm going to swing less often, because that's the best way to take advantage of this change." It's more like, he has his zone organized, spatially, and when he does lay off that high pitch and it's not called a strike, he's both getting reinforcement of his swing decisions and moving further ahead in the count, forcing pitchers to come into the meat of the zone, where he can do the real damage. It's a little more physical and a little less statistical than the way I presented it.