One of my players trained at three different facilities last year. Rapsodo sessions at one place, PitchLogic at another, some Trackman work at a showcase. He played on four teams with game data (a spring and 2 fall school teams, plus a summer travel team). He’s got other health and strength metrics in various apps. By December, his development story was scattered across six different logins, five different dashboards (no combined game data dashboard), and six different formats. He has even more if we start looking at his hitting.
Sound familiar?
This is the reality for most families in travel baseball. You’re investing serious money in player development, and the data that documents that development — spin rates, velocities, movement profiles, progress over time — lives in silos you don’t control.
The Tension Nobody Talks About
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: the facilities and technology vendors who create this data have little incentive to make it portable. Their business models reward stickiness. If your data lives in their system, you keep coming back to their system.
I don’t say this to vilify anyone. These are businesses, and businesses need to survive. But it creates a tension that families bear the cost of.
Facilities have the money to invest in tracking technology and analytics platforms. Families need the portability to maintain continuity as players move between facilities, change geography, or simply want to see their full development arc in one place.
Who funds it versus who owns it — that’s the question nobody’s answering clearly.
What If We Treated Player Data Like Medical Records?
Think about how healthcare handles this. Your doctor creates your medical records. The provider generates the data, maintains the systems, employs the staff. But you, the patient, have portability rights. You can request your records. You can take them to a new provider. Your history follows you.
The provider funds the creation. The patient owns the portable artifact.
What would this look like in baseball? A facility invests in Rapsodo, employs coaches who run sessions, pays for the analytics platform. During the time a player trains there, data aggregates into something useful. But when that player moves on — to a new city, a new facility, or just a different phase of their development — they take their history with them.
The next facility can add to that history. The player never loses what they’ve accumulated.
What This Means for Facilities
Some facility operators might read this and think: why would I pay for something that helps players leave?
But consider the alternative framing: you’re not paying for lock-in. You’re paying to be the place that gave families something valuable they’ll remember.
In a market where every facility has the same Rapsodo machines and runs similar programming, the ones that differentiate will be the ones that think beyond the transaction. Families talk. The facility that treated their data as belonging to them — that’s a story worth telling.
Where This Goes
I don’t have all the answers here. The economics are genuinely hard. Tracking system vendors need revenue models that don’t depend on data captivity. Facilities need value propositions that survive player mobility. Families need something that actually works without requiring a computer science degree.
But I think the medical records model points in a useful direction. Provider creates, patient owns. Funder and owner don’t have to be the same.
The families investing in player development deserve to see the full picture of that investment — not fragments scattered across a dozen logins they’ll eventually lose access to.
I coach high school baseball in western North Carolina and think way too much about data and player development. If you’re a facility operator or technology vendor working on this problem, I’d love to hear how you’re approaching it.
Old Men Playing Baseball 