The illogic of over-pitching
I should probably stop reading the newspapers, because the things I read sometimes just drive me crazy. Here’s the latest.
I was reading about a local high school team and an overview of its season. As part of the story the coach talked about how his star pitcher had pitched all but one inning in the 26 games they had played so far. The team’s record was 7-19 at the time of the article.
That’s crazy to me on several levels. One I’ve talked about before — the risk of overuse/repetitive injuries. It has to take a toll on your body, as more and more studies are showing.
But even if you discount that part of it, it doesn’t make sense for other reasons. Not the least of which is lack of a backup plan. If your star pitcher has pitched all but one inning, and then she gets hurt for whatever reason, what do you do then? What if an unscrupulous coach decides that the path to winning Regionals or a conference championship is to take that pitcher out of the game? The season is basically over for them. What if she twists an ankle or jams a finger? What do they do then?
Then there’s your basic fatigue. It’s gruelling mentally as well as physically to pitch that many games in such a short period of time. While this pitcher will likely rise to the challenge (as she has in the past), she could certainly come in fresher and better-prepared with a little rest now and then. She could come in even more ready to play.
Winning is great, that’s for sure. But their record is already 7-19. Are you telling me there isn’t anybody else in that school who could’ve pitched in some of those 19 losses?
It just doesn’t make sense. Splitting off some of that pitching time would be better for everyone — the pitcher, the team, and even the coach. The sooner coaches learn that the better off everyone will be.
Bunting yourself out of an inning
Heard about this particular incident in a recent high school game, but it’s not the first time I’ve seen or heard something like this. First let me set the stage, then I’ll comment.
Top of the sixth inning. Visiting team is down by one run. Leadoff hitter for the inning gets to first base on a hit. Next better up (who is the team’s home run leader) bunts her to second. Hitter after that bunts her to third. You now have a runner on third and two outs. Fourth batter of the inning flies out to CF. Inning over, no runs scored. Coach is mad at the girl who hit the ball to center field for not getting a safe hit. Visiting team goes on to lose by — you guessed it — one run.
Strategically, bunting twice to put the runner on third makes little sense. First of all, you have nobody out and a long ball hitter at the plate. I don’t know her recent history so maybe she’s been struggling, but still: why give her up (along with an out)? Let her swing the bat and maybe something good will happen. Maybe try a hit and run, or even a fake bunt/slap. Whatever.
Where it really falls down, though, is giving up that second out to move the runner to third. Now you’re asking for a lot from that last hitter. If you still had an out to play with you’d have more options. That long fly ball to center with one out might score the runner from second (it’s a big field). If the previous hitter got a hit and advanced the runner to third, the run would definitely score and you’re on your way to a big inning.
Now let’s look at the percentages. According to Cindy Bristow’s book on strategy, your chance of scoring a runner from first with no one out is 43%. Your chance of scoring a runner from third with two out is 32%. So what did you gain by bunting her over there? Nothing, except the comfort of seeing a runner at third. In actual fact, you decreased your chance of scoring by 11%. Who would voluntarily do that?
When it comes to decisions like that, you really need to take emotion or comfort out of it. Even if your team can’t hit water if they fall out of a boat, you need to give them their best chance to score. Taking the bats out of their hands and simultaneously decreasing your odds of scoring isn’t the way to go. Know the situation, and act accordingly.
Shortening the stride for the drop
One of the most common cues for learning the drop ball (either peel or rollover) is that you need to get up and over the pitch. One of the ways of doing that is shortening the stride so you can lean out over it.
NOTE: If you are one of those people who believes that all pitchers can be taught to throw all pitches from the same position, go ahead and skip this article. It’s only going to make you mad. My experience is that most pitchers need a little help to get the ball to move the way it should, i.e. they need to vary from their core mechanics, not just spin the ball a different way. If the pitchers you know don’t do that, awesome! But not everyone can do that. I’ve found that leaning over the drop ball, for example, definitely helps.
Ok, for the rest of you, as I mentioned shortening the stride is a well-accepted technique for getting that forward lean. Not a bend at the waist, but a lean out over the front with the head, shoulders and chest. The question is, how much shorter should the stride be? I’ve seen pitchers who would leap out hard on their fastball, then barely step off to get over their drops. That’s way too short, and way too obvious.
The target I like to use is to have the toes land where the heel was. In other words, you land roughly one length of your foot shorter. It’s not obvious to the hitter, yet it can have a big effect on the pitcher’s success.
Indoors, I use my trusty garden kneeling pad to mark the distance. Outdoors, and especially in a game, there’s an easier way to do it. Have pitcher throw her normal fastball, but keep her stride foot in place after she throws. Then pivot on the heel and draw a line. That’s the goal line for the drop. It’s simple and not very obvious to the hitter. But it does give the pitcher a visual to shoot for.
One thing about the shorter stride to keep in mind: the pitcher still needs to drive out hard. She’s not landing her whole body short, just her foot. The effect then becomes akin to stumbling, i.e. the upper body continues out forward while the foot stops short. If she just lets up on her stride she’ll remain vertical, and thus there’s no reason to land short. She will also lose speed. But if she drives out hard she not only gets into position, she maintains speed. Or in some cases might even throw faster (due to working harder to spin the ball).
If you have a pitcher who’s having trouble getting the drop to work, try having her draw the line. It can make a real difference.
Why so serious?
Since my own daughter opted out of playing high school softball her senior year, I’ve found I have a lot of time on my hands. It doesn’t go to waste, though. I tend to wander out and catch games that either involve students of mine, players on my team, kids I know, or sometimes even some random game.
If you’ve never done it — gone to a game where you don’t have a direct stake in the outcome — it’s really an interesting experience. What you notice the most is how emotional, upset, angry, etc. otherwise seemingly reasonable people can get. I’ve watched as parents and/or other fans totally freak out over an umpire’s call — even if it’s the right call. They get angry over a poor strategic move, a missed play or dozens of other things.
I understand. I’ve been there too. But when you stop and watch a game you ‘re not totally invested in you can see how silly it sounds at times.
For most of us, we are watching kids playing a kid’s game. Winning that game, that tournament, that league championship may seem important at the time, but it’s really not. At least not in the big scheme of things.
We want to see our kids do well, or better yet do their best. But sometimes that desire gets in the way of common sense. If you find your blood boiling and your tolerance level dropping, take a deep breath, take a step back, and ask yourself the Joker’s question — why so serious? Then take a chill pill and be glad you live somewhere that a fastpitch softball game can be your biggest concern in the world.
Learning v. relearning a pitch
Here’s a phenomenon I’ve seen more than a few times since I started teaching lessons. Sometimes it takes longer for a pitcher to re-learn a pitch that has gone away than it did to learn the pitch originally.
Last year I had a couple of pitchers suddenly lose their curveballs. For no apparent reason they couldn’t couldn’t get the spin, couldn’t get the movement, couldn’t throw the pitch. We went back over all the steps, lesson after lesson, breaking it down. But the result was still the same — very little improvement. It probably took four times as long to get it back as it did to acquire it originally.
Tonight the same thing happened with a pitcher and her changeup. I first taught it to her during a tryout for my team, actually. It took her about five minutes to pick up the basics then. Tonight I was giving her a tune-up and she just couldn’t get it for the longest time. I tried all my usual tricks but they just didn’t seem to work. She finally did get it back, but it was a struggle.
I’m not sure why that happens. Perhaps when it’s new a pitcher is more open to change. But when it goes away, it goes away because the mechanics have deteriorated over time. At that point the “wrong” mechanics have become more ingrained (since she’s been using them) and thus they are tougher to overcome. Even moreso if she’s been successful in spite of the pitch not working at its optimum level, i.e. a changeup that’s too fast or a curveball that is angling in the right direction but not really breaking.
Whatever the reason, it’s probably a good indication of how important it is to be pristine in your practicing or games, lest you take yourself out of a pitch. ‘Cause once you lose the feel, it can be a long, tough road back.
The changeup smells fear
Had this discussion tonight with one of my students. I’d watched her a couple of weeks ago, and at that time it looked to me like she was telegraphing her changeup. The main way was slowing down as she threw it. It got hit most of the time, so I think it was a pretty good bet.
Tonight she and her dad came in, and the priority was the change. It’s a good pitch for her, and it just wasn’t working. I watched her throw one, then told her to try to go faster and throw it harder. That’s all it took. Boom! It was back and better than ever.
This is something I see a lot. Pitchers who are afraid the changeup won’t work tend to hesitate, which throws off the timing. At that point it won’t work, or at least it won’t work well.
That’s why I say the changeup smells fear. If you throw it with fear it won’t work. But if you put those doubts out of your mind and throw it hard, it will treat you right.
Playing the game the way it was meant to be played
I have discussed the case of a young lady named Hillary on the Discuss Fastpitch forum in the past. She is a high school senior who was cut from her high school’s varsity team and placed on the JV team because she had the gall to participate in a school activity other than softball, and thus would miss a couple of early practices while competing with the show choir. This despite the fact that the school traditionally elevates all seniors to varsity regardless of ability, and the fact that she had been a varsity starter last year. Seems like the Principal would want to have a say regarding school organizations working together instead of against each other, but she has not to date.
But that’s the background. Today I want to talk about this young lady and how she has handled this personal slap in the face.
Many (dare I say most?) players probably would have quit, or at least have shown a poor attitude. Not Hillary, though. I had the opportunity to watch her play recently and you would think it was the opportunity of a lifetime for her instead of an embarrassing demotion. She sprinted out to her position (left field) each inning. When she hit the ball she hustled up the baseline. When another hitter put the ball in play, Hillary ran the bases hard and slid hard. She did everything you would’ve asked of any player, and did it with a smile on her face.
Hillary didn’t bother thinking about what had been done to her or how unfair life was. She was there to play ball.
We coaches always talk about how the only two things you can control are yourself and how you react to everything you can’t control. In my opinion, her demotion to JV was a classless act by a self-center, ignorant coach who long ago forgot that the game is about the players, not about him. But Hillary has handled the situation with tremendous class and dignity. She sets an example for all of us, and really lives what most of us only talk about.
Getting into ground ball position
Watch the typical youth player working on fielding ground balls. More often than not, what you’ll see is a bend at the waist, with the arms hanging down like an orangutan and the ball being fielded at the feet.
There are any number of reasons for this poor technique. One is actually some of the coaching we do. We tell our fielders to get their gloves on the ground. So they follow those directions, taking the shortest distance between two points — a straight line. And that straight line is directly below her belt.
What we need to do instead is tell them to lower their hips. When their hips are lowered the glove will also get onto the ground, but a little more forward, forming the point of a triangle. (The feet are the base of the triangle.) Lowering the hips also allows the head to stay up so fielders can watch the ball all the way in — as opposed to bending at the waist, which causes the head to point down.
Try it. Get in the athletic position with the hands in front, then move down by lowering the hips. You’ll be in a much better position to both see and field the ball. And the nice thing is it’s a very specific instruction.
What a little experience and confidence can do
Last night I had one of those experiences that puts your heart in your throat at first, but then makes you glad you’re a coach.
One of my students, a girl named Lauren, told me she pitched again since the last time I’d seen her. (More on that in a minute.) Lauren has been taking lessons for a couple of years but never had much chance to pitch in games. Most of the time it was due to joining teams where they already had established, experienced pitchers, although she missed an opportunity in middle school because she was too shy to speak up and say she pitched.
As anyone who’s coached anything knows, at some point you just have to get in there and do it. This year, on her freshman HS team, Lauren finally got that opportunity. She throws hard, but was having some control trouble in practices that I would attribute to nerves as much as anything. The other pitchers on her team had game experience, but she didn’t have much.
Anyway, I went out to watch one of her games. She was the third pitcher in when her team was blowing out their opponents. She was a little amped up, and a little nervous, and had some trouble. Most of it was throwing high. She was bringing heat — looked to me that she was the fastest on either team — but she gave up a couple of walks early before finally settling down. I was a little worried that a risk-averse coach would decided he didn’t want to take the chance on another outing. Fortunately, that wasn’t true.
She told me she’d actually pitched twice since last week. The first game she got a couple of innings in. She walked a couple to start off, but then settled in and struck out the side, so no harm no foul.
She finally got a start after that. She told me she did well. Her mom, Brenda, however corrected that statement: she pitched a no-hitter. Lauren dismissed it because the team they played didn’t hit very well, but I told her a no-hitter is an accomplishment against anyone. Usually even a bad team has one or two kids who can hit, and even if they don’t some duck snort or ground ball with eyes leaks through.
So that’s very cool. It’s a testament to Lauren and her willingness to stick with it, even in the face of adversity and a lack of opportunity. When the opportunity came, she made the most of it.
By the way, the reason my heart was in my throat was when she started to describe her outings she made it seem like she did poorly. Totally suckered me in with that. I was quite relieved to hear she did well. I fully expect with some experience and confidence in her back pocket that she’s at the start of a long and successful career.
Where can I buy the Book?
Someone please tell me where I can find a copy of the book that says when you get a runner on first you have to bunt her over to second. I have been searching online, especially Amazon.com, but they don’t seem to have it.
I’m assuming there is a book. Every coach I’ve been watching lately seems to do it automatically. Doesn’t matter what the score is, what inning it is, or whether there are no outs or one out. They can’t all be coming to that same conclusion by themselves. There has to be a book that has this requirement in there.
Or could it be they simply don’t have any other ideas. Here’s a suggestion. Let the kids hit now and then. Fake bunt and slap. Fake a slap and steal the base. You increase your chances of scoring a runner from second if you don’t make an out to get her there. It gives you an extra out for something good to happen.
I’m just sayin’.
Life in the Fastpitch Lane 