Barehanded in the box: A peek inside this 'brotherhood'

PORT ST. LUCIE, Fla. -- Right away, Tim Locastro noticed. Batting second in the Mets’ Grapefruit League opener last month, Locastro watched from the on-deck circle as Luis Guillorme stepped into the box and gripped his bat as he always does -- sans batting gloves.

“Anytime you see someone without batting gloves, you always have to ask them why, what they think about it,” Locastro said. “I said, ‘Ah, you’re no batting gloves too?’ It’s like a brotherhood.”

Guillorme and Locastro are among a dozen or so Major Leaguers who regularly eschew leather and synthetics in favor of the old-fashioned bare-knuckled approach. For Guillorme, it’s mostly about superstition. For Locastro, it’s comfort. No matter the reason, it’s exceedingly rare to have two players in the same clubhouse go without -- let alone a pair of hitters who have batted first and second in the Mets’ order multiple times this spring.

“It works for them,” shrugged Mets bench coach Eric Chavez, who served as hitting coach last season.

Asked if he would have considered trying the glove-free approach during his playing days, Chavez laughed and replied, “No chance. Zero desire.” Most hitters feel the same, given the superior grip that batting gloves theoretically afford. Even Guillorme would have agreed in a past life, until around the time he began slumping as a prospect at Class A Savannah in 2015. In an attempt to break out of his doldrums, Guillorme ditched his batting gloves one night and hit well. So he did it the next day and the next day “and just carried on.”

“It’s the feel,” Guillorme said. “I feel like I have more control with it now that I’m used to it.”

Every once in a while, Guillorme says, he’ll wear gloves to protect against a blister or some other discomfort. He doesn’t keep any in his locker, though. As a prospect, Guillorme signed a glove deal with a sporting goods company, but that’s a thing of the past.

Earlier this spring, another brand likewise shipped Locastro some gloves, for what reason he’s not entirely sure. Locastro hasn’t worn batting gloves since he arrived at Ithaca College in 2010, when a group of his teammates decided in solidarity to go without.

“You didn’t want to be the one guy that had batting gloves on,” Locastro said, laughing. “They said you were soft if you put batting gloves on.”

Part of that machismo stems from tradition. For the first century or so of Major League history, players didn’t wear batting gloves. (Go far enough back, and they didn’t wear fielding gloves, either.) As recently as manager Buck Showalter’s time with the Yankees in the 1990s, some still frowned upon the practice. But batting gloves have been a staple in MLB dugouts for the past 30 years or so, rendering exceptions such as Guillorme or Locastro exceedingly rare.

Some of Locastro’s old college teammates still play in adult leagues without gloves, but he’s the only one who’s taken the tradition to the professional ranks. At Ithaca, his metal bats tended to come with excellent grips. Now, Locastro has a bat grip wrapped around the handle of his wooden bats, which -- in his opinion -- makes batting gloves superfluous. The only time he uses them is away from the batter’s box, to keep his hands warm in the dugout when it’s cold outside.

Both Guillorme and Locastro are proud of their no-glove club membership, despite the sacrifices they must endure. In discussing his methods, Locastro proudly showed off hands featuring heavy callouses below each finger. He endures annual blisters when he begins ramping up his workload during the offseason, but by the time Spring Training rolls around, his hands have hardened. Guillorme, who once famously caught an errant bat with his bare hand in the dugout, likewise doesn’t seem bothered by a blister or three.

If it works for them, the Mets aren’t going to mess with it. Among the 277 big leaguers who received at least 300 plate appearances last season, Guillorme ranked in the 92nd percentile in strikeout rate. Locastro hasn’t enjoyed quite the same success as his barehanded brother, but he’s off to a hot start this spring with a .379 average over his first 13 games.

“You get used to it,” Locastro said, betraying no desire to be among the 98% of MLB hitters who use batting gloves.

“Not curious at all,” he added with a grin.