TAMPA, Fla. — DJ LeMahieu keeps it simple. Nicknamed “The Machine,” he shows little emotion and executes the fundamentals with cold efficiency. But LeMahieu gave a glimpse into how his mind works while discussing new hitting coach James Rowson.
“We speak the same language,” LeMahieu said.
Binary?
“Hitting.”
For Rowson, it was the perfect compliment. The New York Yankees hired the 47-year-old Mount Vernon, N.Y., native this offseason because they needed someone who “has the ability to communicate and connect” with the club’s veteran hitters, general manager Brian Cashman said.
Lawson instituted his system throughout the minor leagues, and his methods were bearing fruit. Anthony Volpe took over as the team’s starting shortstop on Opening Day, and Austin Wells and Jasson Domínguez each impressed enough to reach the majors in September. But several of the team’s marquee names— namely Giancarlo Stanton, LeMahieu and Josh Donaldson — couldn’t get on track. With the team eight games back in the American League East at the all-star break, Cashman canned Lawson, replacing him with Sean Casey, a retired first baseman who had no coaching experience but carried a reputation for bringing people together. While Casey’s results weren’t much better, Boone repeatedly praised him for fostering quick and close relationships with veterans. Casey didn’t return this season, citing personal reasons.
But in Rowson, the Yankees believe they have found their veteran whisperer.
“He gets the side of the analytics and the swing mechanics, the biomechanics of your swing,” star center fielder Aaron Judge said. “But he also understands game planning and being in the box, and what it means to stand in the box when you’re really facing 98 mph with some sink and a nasty slider.”
“I’d heard a lot of good things about him from players on other teams,” LeMahieu said. “I’ve had really good sessions with him as well. I think it’s a really good fit.”
Rowson remembered it clearly. In the first interview he had for the Yankees’ main hitting coach job in November, he emphasized communication.
“A good hitting coach has to speak multiple languages,” he said. “Meaning, he has to speak that hitter’s language and find out how those guys operate and the ability to do that is how you get through to each player. It’s not their job to adjust to me. It’s my job to adjust to them.”
That’s why not long after getting the position, he traveled to The Lab — a baseball facility founded and operated by Yankees second baseman Gleyber Torres and former Yankee Gio Urshela. Rowson and assistant hitting coach Casey Dykes spent several hours hitting with Judge, Torres, Oswaldo Cabrera and others.
It would be weeks before spring training started, but Torres was deep into making mechanical changes to his swing. The 27-year-old is entering his final year before free agency. He knows that his time with the Yankees may be coming to an end — and that a big payday could be on the horizon. So, Rowson and Torres talked about the fine details of his swing, including whether Torres should ditch his leg kick for a toe tap.
Rowson said he was as much invested in helping Torres as a player as he was wanting to connect with him personally.
“It’s always important to meet people where they are, to go to them,” Rowson said. “It shows you care. It shows that you’re interested.”
That’s why his decade-long relationship with Judge is still strong. Rowson was the Yankees’ minor-league hitting coordinator when Judge was becoming one of the most hyped prospects in the game from 2014-2016. The relationship continued as Rowson made stops as a hitting coach with the Detroit Tigers and Minnesota Twins and served as a bench coach with the Miami Marlins. He also interviewed for the Boston Red Sox managerial job in 2020.
“It’s lasted because of the way we built it,” Rowson said. “It was built on being honest. It was built on trust, and it was built on having that back-and-forth conversation that we have about hitting. We talk through it.”
Judge said he appreciates how well Rowson blends his knowledge of analytics and hitting approach.
“The numbers may say if you sit on a certain pitch, you’ll hit it, but (Rowson) understands how hard that is, and he communicates that,” Judge said. “He challenges guys. He challenges me every single day and we go back and forth on things, which is great. I love it.”
Another Yankees luminary, Don Mattingly, was one of Rowson’s biggest influences. When Rowson was Mattingly’s bench coach with Miami from 2020-2022, he learned to think beyond just hitting.
“It helped me grow,” Rowson said. “We would talk about the entire game, and how to get guys ready off the bench, and how different elements of offense help you win games. It’s not simply the mechanics of the player and how they’re hitting, it’s more or less the strategy of how you get guys ready for a game.”
Rowson’s path to the Yankees’ dugout began with failure. Drafted in the ninth round out of Mount St. Michael High School in the Bronx, Rowson was a 5-11, 190-pound outfielder who had a problem.
“I didn’t hit,” he said.
He played two seasons with the Mariners before hooking on with the Yankees, never reaching higher than High A. After hitting just .193 in affiliated ball, he played a season with the independent Cook County Cheetahs. At age 21, he quit.
That’s when something started to burn inside him.
“I couldn’t figure it out as a player,” he said. “Coaching became the next thing. Just staying hitting. I just studied hitting and watched good hitters and what they do and how they do what they do. That became the next passion all of a sudden.”
His first job actually came five minutes down the road from the Yankees’ spring training home at George M. Steinbrenner Field. He took a position as an assistant coach at Hillsborough County Community College. That turned into his first pro job, coaching in Provo, Utah, with the Los Angeles Angels’ Low-A affiliate. Before long, he landed with the Yankees as a lower-level instructor before starting his first of two stints as the team’s minor-league hitting coordinator in 2008.
Rowson said his philosophy is simple, likening his approach to that of a doctor who has to be able to communicate with a variety of patients and diagnose them correctly.
“I have things I want to see guys do,” he said. “In simple terms, you like to see guys swing at strikes. You like to see guys hit the ball hard, stay within their strengths. But there are so many different ways to do that. You can’t just have one way of telling guys to do things.”
He noted some players who prefer to swing down at the ball versus others who try to uppercut it.
“Both of those guys are right,” Rowson said, “if they’re producing the right results. My job is to see the results, find out how they think and then encourage them in that same way because that’s how they’re going to perform and that’s how they’re going to feel comfortable with what they’re doing.”
Said Judge, “He’s going to elevate this team and elevate everybody in our lineup to go out there and do their best. That’s what I’ve always loved about him — his energy, his passion for the game. He just gets the most out of a player.”
And Rowson does it by speaking their language — hitting.
