Ever sprinted away from a stinging, furious, vindictive swarm of bees?

If you have, (likely with wet pants) then you know that there is an extra gear deep down that kicks in when the adrenaline is pumping.

This isn’t news; we have all experienced something like this in our lives, and as such we know that the body’s dormant physical potential is pretty amazing.

Thing is, in sport it is often difficult to summon this sort of extra-maximal (yes, I’m aware that term is senseless) effort, especially in situations when no one is watching and the game is not on the line.

Most pitchers probably throw a solid 3-4 mph slower in the bullpen before they jump into the game.  Do I have stats on this? No, but it’s just so hard to get your arm moving at that top speed that sits you at your game velocity.

It’s especially difficult when you haven’t pitched in a while, such as when recovering from injury or a long off-season.  You might swear you’re throwing with everything you’ve got, and for that moment you, in a way, do, but that last gear isn’t engaged.

I know when I am getting there when I start to tremble slightly, and feel that electric tension all over my body.  I get aggressive, angry, and my movements speed up while my perception of them remains the same.  This surge of adrenaline and switch into a barbaric, primal mode is what gets an athlete to his power threshold.

Some of the best strength athletes seem to have an uncanny ability to summon this extra power, and you can see the personality secede from their eyes as they become flooded with power.

So how does one manually shift into that last, hidden gear, without a stimulus like a gunman, bees, or a sellout crowd?  It’s visualization – taking your mind to that place where you have to put everything you have into this next pitch, or it’s over.

It takes practice, and it takes some real life experience.  Sometimes its taking out frustrations on the ball, pretending that your career is on the line, or simply just telling, screaming at yourself that you can throw harder.

While recently discussing this topic, my pitching coach Tim O’Brien conjectured how “reckless” it must feel to throw 90mph, how it must just take full abandon of the physical toll it could take on the body.  That thought sticks with me, and when I am trying to charge up, I think about that.  Am I really, really letting it go, such that my body could explode on any pitch?  If not, then throw the damn thing harder.

Now, you’re probably thinking, “pitchers aren’t supposed to throw all out on every pitch.”  Well, you’re right.  But you have to get there first, then back it down just a tick, to a comfortable level, the level at which you are the most effective pitcher you can be.  This backed off level of effort may not even slow you down, but it’s the level to one at which you can focus on more than just velocity.

So, ask yourself, is your arm going to fly out of the socket on the next pitch?  If not, dial it up a notch at your next long toss and see what you’ve got left in the tank.

One Response to “To Throw Harder, Engage That Extra Gear”