There is a tendency among coaches (me included) to place a lot of emphasis on having rock-solid mechanics. We know what we want to see, we know what the best players in the world look like, and we try to get our players to match that image we have in our minds. Our most dedicated players often know what they’re trying to achieve and work toward meeting that ideal, whether it’s hitting, pitching, fielding, throwing or any other aspect of the game.

Overall, that’s good. But sometimes this relentless pursuit of perfection can get in the way of player growth. How can that be? Simple. All those skills we’re working on with such passion require dynamic and often ballistic movements. Yet it can be difficult to be dynamic or ballistic if your focus is on being extremely precise with what you’re doing. A hitter trying to get an exact bat path, or a pitcher trying to throw a pitch “just so,” may wind themselves up too tight to get the kind of impact they need. So while they would look great in slow motion video — everything is exactly where it should be when it should be there — the result is less than explosive.

I don’t think this is something coaches build into what they’re teaching. In fact, I think it’s often something that’s more hard-wired into certain players. They have such desire for perfection and achievement that they let it get in the way of just going for it. Put another way, they are so focused on their mechanics they become, well, mechanical.

Pursuing perfection is a worthy goal, but it has to be tempered with a ballplayer’s attitude. We’ve all seen kids with terrible swings or terrible throwing form that still hit or throw the heck out of the ball because they approach it with such intent to hit or throw hard. That is something we all need to be sure we’re instilling in our players.

I would rather see more intent and less perfection in a player or student, particularly at this time of the year (fall). Yes, I want them to improve their mechanics and approach that ideal, but not at the cost of putting every ounce of themselves they have into it. It’s important to remind them every now and then that the intent to perform an action is every bit as critical as the mechanics themselves. After all, you can fix mechanics and make them better. It’s a lot tougher to fix intent if it isn’t there.

There’s an old saying in softball (and baseball) that goes “Quite thinking, you’re hurting the ballclub.” While it’s usually said in good humor there is some truth to it. Especially when it comes to executing skills.

When you first learn a new skill there’s a lot of thinking involved. You’re trying to get the movements right and overcome old habits in the process. It takes a lot of thinking, checking and rechecking. As you become more successful with the skill you get to the point of conscious competence — the ability to do what you want to do as you think it through.

That’s not the goal, though. At the point of conscious competence you’re not able to give your maximum effort. There’s still a point of being careful involved when you’re thinking. The point you want to get to instead is unconscious competence — the point where you no longer have to think about what you’re doing, but instead just do it (as the billboards say). At that point you can give 100 percent effort — throw yourself into it entirely without any worries.

There’s only one way to get there — through repetition. How many reps varies by the skill and by the person. But it’s more than a few no matter who you are. You’ll know when it’s enough — because you no longer have to think about what you’re doing, You’re simply going out there and giving it your all. On the other hand, if you’re thinking too much, you’re not practicing enough. Time to get to work!

Sorry it’s been a little while since I’ve posted something new. Hope the old posts were keeping you entertained, at least to some extent. At least was for a good reason, though: I’ve been trying to make the rounds of games to see my students and the girls I coach in the summer playing in some of their games. I’ve also been trying to wean myself off the computer at night, at least as much as I’ve been on. When you find yourself emailing your wife, and she’s sitting on the couch right next to you, you have a problem.

But that’s not what got me on here today. I actually saw another great email message from Bobby Simpson of Higher Ground Softball. He was talking about a book he’d read called The Talent Code by Daniel Coyle. What struck Bobby, and me by extension, was the discovery that more than half of all the top performers in a given sport got there through a series of small failures. It wasn’t that they were bad, really. It was more that they were willing to go out beyond their comfort zones, where they knew they could succeed, and instead be willing to fail today so they could be better tomorrow. This was a worldwide phenomenon.

How many times have you seen (or coached) the opposite? You have a pitcher who has been working on developing a drop and/or curve ball. But when game time comes, she throws only fastballs and changeups because she knows she can throw them for strikes. Or worse yet, she want to throw drops and curves but you as the coach don’t let her because you might lose the game if she throws them, but feel confident you’ll win if she doesn’t. She never develops those weapons, and when you face a team that is hitting her fastball consistently you have nowhere else to go but the bullpen.

Or what about the situation I’ve railed on lately — the automatic bunt with a runner on first. The coach does it because it’s the “safe” thing to do. No one can criticize her for following “the book.” Well, except me I suppose. But if she lets her hitters hit away now and then in that situation she might find she can play for three or four runs instead of one in an inning. Sure, there’s a risk you get none. But you’re taking that risk by bunting away outs anyway.

It’s human nature to want to succeed. When we’re successful we feel good about ourselves. And here in America it’s particularly important because we love winners and hate losing. But the truth is most of the time you don’t learn a damn thing from winning and succeeding. Especially if you do the same things all the time. If you’re winning almost all your games you’re probably playing the wrong opponents or in the wrong tournaments.

The same goes for players. If they’re going to go beyond where they are, they need to stretch beyond their current limitations. Sure, they may find their reach exceeded their grasp at times. But they may also find out their grasp extended farther than they thought. After all, you can’t get anywhere just standing still.

If you’re a player, get out of your comfort zone. Try those new things. They may not work out, but at least you’ll have a better idea of what you can and can’t do — or perhaps what you could do with a little more work.

If you’re a coach, push your players out of their comfort zones, and do the same for yourself. Especially early in the season. Give that developing pitcher a chance to test her skills. Be willing to lose a few games early to win more games late. It’s what the best in the world do.

…but it sure is a lot. Last night I was teaching some pitching lessons at one of the local facilities. In the next couple of cages there were girls from an 18U travel team working on their hitting, with a couple of their coaches in attendance.

As my student was retrieving the ball her dad/catcher had thrown away on the return, I was distracted by something happening two cages over. A hitter was hitting off a machine that was being fed by the female coach. The coach noticed something in the girl’s swing — I didn’t get it all, but it sounded like she was over-coiling or doing something else that was causing her problems — and she pointed it out. The player’s response was “That’s how I swing.” And she said it with one of those “end of discussion” tones.

I have never understood that type of attitude. I don’t know what the player was doing or if the coach was right or wrong about it. But it sounded like the coach had some idea of what she was doing, and she was trying to help the player. But apparently the player (whom I do not remember being on the USA National Team or anything like that) wasn’t interested in any help. She was content right where she was.

What’s interesting is when you read stories about actual National Team players from any country, or MLB players, or most pro athletes in general, they’re some of the easiest players to work with. They’re always looking for an edge, and willing to try anything to get it. Many times they’re more open to new ideas, in fact, than youth players.

I know people who have worked with players at that level many times and they confirm that elite players tend to be very coachable. It’s probably what sets them apart from kids with equal talent but not equal accomplishment.

It’s a shame. I felt bad for the coach. She called over the other coach, a guy, to take a look and it sounded like there was more resistance. I didn’t really key in on it since 1) I had to focus on my lesson and 2) it wasn’t my business in any case. But that’s the kind of thing that can keep a player and a team from reaching its goals.

If you’re not willing to try new things or change what you’re doing, you’ll never be more than you are today. You don’t necessarily have to stick with it, but you should at least give it a try. You never know when some coach on a cold night January might be trying to hand you the keys to the kingdom.