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The Ivy League Batter Shaking Up the Bronx

Ben Rice arrived from Dartmouth as a 12th-round pick with a disrupted college résumé. Now the Yankees’ left-handed slugger is producing like a star and, in key offensive categories, even out-hitting Aaron Judge.

By Karla Alvarado Follow

The most surprising thunder in the Yankees’ lineup is not coming only from Aaron Judge.

It is coming from Ben Rice, a Dartmouth-educated, left-handed slugger whose route to Yankee Stadium looked nothing like the usual path of a future middle-of-the-order force. He was not a first-round certainty. He was not a teenage phenom pushed through the national showcase circuit with years of professional hype attached to his name. He was a catcher from the Ivy League whose college career was interrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic, whose playing time was limited, and whose professional future depended on scouts seeing something that a short statistical record could not fully prove.

Now Rice is doing more than proving he belongs. He is forcing a reassessment of what the Yankees have found.

As of late May, public MLB and sports-stat databases showed Rice leading the Yankees in several key rate and production categories, including batting average, on-base production and OPS, while ranking among the club’s most dangerous power bats. Aaron Judge remains the face of the franchise, a former MVP and one of baseball’s most feared hitters. But Rice’s early-season production has placed him in the rare position of being compared not to a struggling teammate, but to one of the best hitters alive.

That comparison is not meant to diminish Judge. It is meant to explain how loud Rice’s bat has become.

The Yankees did not draft Rice as a headline pick. They selected him in the 12th round of the 2021 MLB Draft, 363rd overall, out of Dartmouth College. Official MLB and Dartmouth records list him as a Dartmouth product from Cohasset, Massachusetts, a catcher by training, and a player whose college development was shaped by disruption. Dartmouth’s 2021 season was canceled because of the pandemic. Rice’s public college record, by modern scouting standards, was unusually thin.

That makes his rise even more unusual. Baseball is a sport that loves data, repetition and track record. Scouts want at-bats, game logs, conference performance, wood-bat summer results, defensive looks and years of evidence. Rice did not have the kind of long college résumé that makes an evaluator comfortable. He had flashes, body language, swing traits, summer-ball performance and the kind of left-handed impact that scouts either trust or miss.

The Yankees trusted it.

The Wall Street Journal recently described Rice’s path as one shaped by limited opportunity and unusual self-created exposure. After the pandemic cut into his college career, Rice looked for at-bats wherever he could find them. He played in summer leagues, helped organize informal baseball settings and kept himself visible enough for evaluators to keep watching. That detail matters because it separates Rice from the polished prospect story. His development was not linear. It was improvised.

That may be part of why he fits the Yankees so well now.

New York has always loved stars, but the Yankees are built at their best when the stars are surrounded by unexpected contributors. Judge gives the lineup gravity. Rice gives it surprise. And surprise, in a long baseball season, can be just as valuable as reputation.

Rice’s breakout is also a player-development story. The Yankees have spent years being evaluated not only by the superstars they buy or extend, but by whether their system can produce impact bats from outside the obvious top-prospect tier. A 12th-round Dartmouth catcher becoming a major offensive weapon is not normal. It is the kind of development win that changes how an organization is judged internally.

The profile is easy to understand from the batter’s box. Rice is left-handed, powerful, disciplined enough to work counts and strong enough to punish mistakes. He can fit at first base, designated hitter and, because of his catching background, brings a level of roster flexibility that gives the Yankees more ways to keep his bat in the lineup. That flexibility matters on a club built around star power, injuries, defensive tradeoffs and matchups.

But the real story is not versatility. It is damage.

Rice has not merely been collecting empty hits. He has been producing extra-base power and run creation at a level that changes the feel of the Yankees’ order. When a player with Rice’s profile gets hot, pitchers cannot simply work around Judge and hope the rest of the lineup softens. Rice gives New York another bat that can turn a mistake into three runs.

That is the difference between a dangerous lineup and a suffocating one.

Judge still casts the largest shadow. He is the captain, the centerpiece and the hitter opponents game-plan around first. Even when Judge is not locked in, he changes how pitchers approach everyone else. But Rice’s rise gives the Yankees something every contender needs: a second force who can carry a week, change a series and make the offense feel less dependent on one giant swing from No. 99.

The timing is important. Judge recently endured a difficult stretch at the plate, including an RBI drought that drew attention across New York sports media. Slumps happen to even the best hitters, and Judge’s track record makes panic unreasonable. But while Judge searched for rhythm, Rice’s production became harder to ignore. He was not simply filling space. He was becoming a central reason the Yankees’ offense remained threatening.

That is how players move from useful to essential.

Rice’s story also challenges old assumptions about where major-league power comes from. The Ivy League is not typically treated as a pipeline for Yankee Stadium sluggers. Dartmouth baseball does not carry the same scouting weight as the Southeastern Conference or the powerhouse programs of California, Texas and Florida. For Rice to emerge from that environment and become one of the most productive bats on baseball’s most scrutinized team is part of what makes the story compelling.

It is not just that he went to Dartmouth. It is that his path required patience from a system that often does not have much patience for late bloomers.

In 2024, Rice gave Yankees fans the first public sign that something unusual might be happening. In a game against the Boston Red Sox, he became the first rookie in Yankees history to hit three home runs in a game. That performance was not just a box-score explosion. It was a historical marker inside a franchise that has employed some of the greatest hitters ever. To be the first rookie Yankee to do anything with three home runs is to place your name in a sentence that fans remember.

Still, one great game does not make a career. Baseball is filled with players who flash for a week and disappear when pitchers adjust. The more important question after that moment was whether Rice could sustain production once the league found weaknesses, changed plans and forced him to adapt.

This season’s answer, so far, has been yes.

Rice’s improvement reflects both physical strength and offensive maturity. Public reports have noted his growing power profile, while MLB’s official player information and minor-league record show a hitter who produced throughout the system before reaching the majors. The raw ingredients were always there. What has changed is the stage, the confidence and the consistency.

There is also a psychological dimension to Rice’s rise. Not every player can perform under the daily pressure of the Yankees’ environment. New York does not quietly observe development. It grades it inning by inning. A young hitter can go from future cornerstone to trade-chip debate in a week. Rice has already experienced the noise of a call-up, the shock of instant success, the reality of adjustment and the burden of expectations. That experience can harden a hitter if it does not break him.

Rice now looks less like a temporary story and more like part of the Yankees’ offensive identity.

That does not mean the league will stop adjusting. Pitchers will continue to test him. They will change pitch sequences, elevate fastballs, expand with breaking balls, challenge his patience and look for holes. Rice’s next challenge is the same challenge that defines every real major-league hitter: can he keep adjusting after the adjustments arrive?

The Yankees, meanwhile, must decide how to maximize him. That means balancing his starts, defensive responsibilities, lineup position and matchups against left-handed pitching. It also means resisting the temptation to treat him as a finished product. Rice may be out-hitting Judge in certain categories right now, but his larger value will be determined by how the organization helps him turn a breakout into a foundation.

For Yankees fans, the appeal is obvious. Rice is not a corporate superstar manufactured by expectation. He is a discovery. He is the kind of player fans feel they found before the rest of baseball fully understood him. He brings the romance of scouting back into a sport increasingly explained by models and projections.

That is not to say analytics did not matter. Modern player development is always data-driven. But Rice’s story also belongs to the older baseball tradition: a scout sees a swing, a player keeps grinding, an organization takes a chance, and years later that chance looks far bigger than the draft board suggested.

The Yankees have built much of their modern identity around Judge. That will not change. But championship teams are rarely built around one bat alone. They need second stories, hidden wins, late-round finds and players who make the lineup longer than opponents expected.

Ben Rice has become that kind of story.

He is the Ivy League bat in the Bronx. The 12th-round pick with middle-order production. The former Dartmouth catcher now standing beside the game’s biggest slugger and, for the moment, beating him in some of the numbers that matter most.

Judge remains the superstar. Rice is becoming the complication.

For opposing pitchers, that may be the scariest version of the Yankees: not a lineup with one giant to avoid, but a lineup with another left-handed hammer waiting if they do.

Reporting and sourcing transparency note: This article is based on public reporting and official data from MLB.com, Dartmouth Athletics, Baseball Reference, FanGraphs, StatMuse, ESPN, Reuters, The Wall Street Journal and New York sports coverage. No original interviews were fabricated for this article.