Throwing Strikes Is Hard

"You got this. Just throw strikes."

"Just need a strike here, kid."

"Just throw it over the plate."

"Just let them hit it."

Ever hear any of those at a game?

Ever say any of those yourself?

Me too.

Understand, mostly everything I write is based on my own failures. I share them because they are things I would like to have a second chance at. We don't get those, but some of you may happen to read what I write and you are still in your first chance. If it helps bring to light some things that you can do to be a better parent or coach, wonderful. That's my aim.

Let me share something that you probably already know, but may not think about, especially when you are tempted to shout something like, "Just throw strikes."

Your player is not out there trying to throw balls.

Believe it or not, throwing strikes is what he or she has been trying to do. Therefore, when coach, or mom, or dad, or teammates, or grandma, or grandpa, or aunt, or uncle, or neighbor... yells, "Just throw a strike," the pressure only compounds in the mind of that young pitcher, making the job of throwing strikes even harder. Meanwhile, you have someone else shouting, "Rare back and throw it!" Or, "Throw hard." And yet another saying, "Don't overthrow. Stay within yourself."

Oh my, the conflict! Here is what I think might be going on inside the brain (subconsciously) of a young pitcher whenever they hear this kind of coaching advice:

"I am going to take something off of this next pitch in order to try to guide it into the strike zone. I want to throw hard but I don't want to overthrow. I need to control this pitch because I really need to throw a strike. Not throwing a strike makes me feel bad, and it makes my coach, my parents, and my teammates disappointed. I have to throw a strike here."

Does this seem like a recipe for a successful mindset?

This kind of thing happens so often, so many times during a game, and we rarely even realize it. We don't realize it because our intentions are GOOD. We have a felt need to give encouragement, which is wonderful. But when our encouragement comes out sounding like advice, it becomes a reminder to the player that he or she is failing. And then their focus becomes fixated on the thing they are failing at.

Throwing strikes is hard. It is really, really a hard thing to do. The plate is only 17-inches wide. They are throwing a ball with intent from 43, 46, 50, 60... feet away. Even more, while trying to throw a strike, they are also trying to keep the batter from hitting it well. So they can't throw it right down the middle or else coach will get mad. That cuts their "good pitch" zone down to about 4 inches on the inside of the plate and 4 inches on the outside of the plate. That is VERY hard to do.

I have a suggestion. At the next team practice, let's line up all the moms, dads, and coaches and give them each 10-20 pitches from the little league mound, 46 feet away.

But wait! Here's the best part. As the parents and coaches are pitching, the players get to go behind the backstop and shout all that great advice to them. A few others can even chart each pitch.

I know I am being a little sarcastic. But here is my point. Just be aware. Be aware of these things. Be aware of what you are saying. And be aware of what is happening inside the mind of that child who is out there trying to do the very thing you want them to do. They just happen to not be succeeding at the moment. It happens.

I have a little personal practice that I have tried to adhere to in my own dugout. I like to listen to other pitchers who aren't pitching in the game, and take note of what they say to encourage their teammate who is pitching. I find this to be pretty interesting. Last weekend, my daughter, Kaylee, was in the dugout while the other pitcher was pitching. Every coach, player and some parents were all encouraging her with little phrases we like to use: "Fill it up. Pound the zone. Relax kid. You got this." And perhaps even an occasional, "Need a strike here."

But I noticed Kaylee. She wasn't saying anything. Now, normally, she cheers and encourages her teammates constantly. However, she personally knows what it feels like to be out in that pitcher's circle in a struggling inning. She has told me that in those moments, anything (ANYTHING) that is shouted from the dugout or behind the fence is usually unhelpful. She just needs to go through her own mindful routines of breathing, releasing the bad, visualizing and positive self-talk, focus breath, and pitch. Nothing that is shouted from our dugout or from behind the fence is going to assist in that process or moment.

So, I have learned to try to train myself to be just be quiet. Suppress the felt need to offer encouragement. She knows I want her to do her best. She knows I believe in her. She knows I want her to throw a strike. She knows the team would be much better off if she throws a good pitch.

I think this is some of the best advice anyone can give or receive today:

Be quiet. Let them play.