Since I’m a transplant to a new city, I have no family within 8 hours driving distance. I have few friends in town. I have only enough possessions to fill the trunk and back seats of my average-sized car. I have no furniture in my room aside from a bed and unused shelf; no curtains, no posters, no photos. I’m almost never home, anyway.

I no longer have Facebook – deleted it over a month ago. I watch almost no TV whatsoever, save one or two programs per week. Movies rarely capture my attention. I watch sports only when I’m in a public place that displays them; no football, baseball (I’ve watched a combined 10 innings or so of the entire playoffs), or any other sports. I don’t scour YouTube for videos or any of that worthless shit on the internet, either.

I don’t go out that much and don’t have hobbies. I really liked rockclimbing, which I did for about a year and a half, but I had to give that up because it bothered my pitching arm; I’m a little bitter about that breakup. I don’t have pets (if you knew my ex’s dog you’d understand why), don’t call my family enough, go downtown only occasionally, and rarely take trips. I don’t have any debt, I own my car and all of the equipment I bought for my gym. I make ample money and put nearly all of it back into my business. I also don’t have a girlfriend or anyone to occupy significant amounts of my time.

A reasonably accurate depiction of my room and myself.

And yet, my immediate goal in becoming better as a ballplayer and more productive as a person is to do even less. By this, I mean that I have to remove myself even further from my distractions and sit and be quiet. I have to learn to set aside time to meditate, and do so more often and for longer durations. Despite how little I have, need and want, it’s difficult.

Meditation is going to sharpen my mind and allow me to focus more intently on my work, be it on the mound or at my gym. I’ve started recently after reading Alan Jaeger’s book, Getting Focused, Staying Focused.

I had problems with negativity creeping into my mind and undermining my abilities this summer. On the mound, I found myself doubting my ability to command pitches and get outs. I couldn’t turn my mind off, and I couldn’t silence the negativity; it affected my physical performance. Being a Philosophy and Psychology major and a very intellectual, analytical person, I’ve always thrived on mental activity. Pondering things over and over in my mind was natural exercise for me. Having to suddenly find a way to ignore the very thing that has made me successful in life has proved, well, impossible. While impossible overnight, I’m on a mission to develop this ability, the ability to ignore my mind when I need to. The first step in this is learning how to sit still, let my mind wander and pay it no heed. It can chatter at me all it wants; I’ll be focusing my attention elsewhere.

So, I’ll be finding ways to take time away from whatever it is that distracts me and sit and do even less. A rollercoaster descent into monkdom.

Also – don’t pity me. I’m happy, have great family & friends, time to do the things that I value, ample quiet time when I’m not training, and few things to tie and slow me down. Despite having virtually none of the hobbies and “things,”on which most people give life a materialistic valuation, I’m living my personal dream – doing whatever I want, whenever I want. I run my business how I see fit and train in pursuit of my dreams and the dreams of my clients. Television programs, Facebook statuses and wine-tastings wouldn’t add to that.

Pitch Culpability

Catchers get a good look at each hitter from just behind the batter’s box. Because of their proximity to the plate, it’s safe to say that a catcher can pick up tendencies that a pitcher might not spot from 60 feet 6 inches away. When the sign goes down, it’s the catcher’s best guess of the most effective pitch against that hitter. Not only is the catcher reading the batter’s stance, but he is also checking little things such as, is he antsy or relaxed? Has he scooted closer to the plate since last game, or last time up? What is his role on the team, and what is the situation at hand? What pitch can the pitcher throw that will be effective against him? These things and more factor into the pitch a catcher calls.

Yet, when it comes down to it, it’s the pitcher’s name, ERA, and game that is on the line with each pitch. It’s incredibly important to trust the catcher’s instincts, as he a great resource in reading the hitter, but ultimately the pitch call comes down to the pitcher. After all, he has to be comfortable putting his name on each pitch, because no one will second-guess anyone but the pitcher when the game is said and done. At the end of the day, the win is on the pitcher, and the loss is on the pitcher. It’s unacceptable for a pitcher to lose a game on a pitch he doesn’t believe in.

Mechanical Adjustment

Little adjustments in a pitcher’s mechanics are continuously made throughout a game. Sometimes it’s just as minute as following through a little better, or keeping your head tracking to the plate. No matter the symptom, the catcher is often the mechanics doctor. Between innings and sometimes between hitters or pitches, it’s not uncommon for the catcher to give a physical cue to set a a pitcher straight. Arm angle malignment is another common in-game fix – and you may see a catcher holding up his arm, at the proper angle, to signal that the arm is getting off track and needs to move up or down. Sometimes a pitcher can realize these faults and correct them on his own, but sometimes the careful observation and coaching of the catcher is necessary.

Rhythm Adjustment

Pitchers throw best when they work within their own internal rhythms. Working fast is a must for any pitcher, yet sometimes a pitcher needs to slow down or speed up the pace at which he is working. When in trouble, hurlers will often speed up mentally and physically – their mechanics will rush, and their minds will race. When you see a catcher and/or pitching coach run out to the mound in a runners-on situation, it’s often just to slow a pitcher down and remind them to return the game to a manageable speed.

As a pitcher, the game “speeds up” when the bases fill up and trouble is at hand. Yet, it is at this time that the pitcher needs to think slowly, clearly, and focus as intently as he can in order to make the pitches necessary to get out of trouble. How does a pitcher accomplish this? Here’s a secret that I learned this season…

Think about something else. It’s much more often than you think for a pitching coach to come out, talk strategy for 10 seconds, then make a total non-sequitur. Why is this? To relieve some of the urgency at hand by temporarily diverting the mind. In an early start this year, I was pitching in an incredible ballpark with the biggest crowd of my life – 4200 – on the road in Southern Illinois. I had already had a mound visit where I was told, among other things, to slow my mind down. I looked into the stands.

What at? Girls. For the rest of the year, whenever I would get runners on and feel my tension level rising, I would step off the mound, take a deep breath, and let my eyes wander into the crowd. For a few brief moments, I would be away from my jam, and able to relax as I cased the joint for attractive females. Then, I would take another deep breath, step back into my office, and focus on the pitch I needed to make.

"Wassup girl? How about we get out of this inning and go back to my place?"

Ego Support

Pitchers feel best when they throw gas, have exploding breaking pitches and changeups that stop in midair. Yet, the reality is that most nights, a pitcher’s stuff is going to be just OK; You can’t have your best stuff every time out.

But wait! Maybe someone can lie to us, making us more (overly) confident about our ability to compete and win. Who would do such a thing? A catcher of course! Sure, many times a pitcher will come into the the dugout and say “man, my arm feels slower than Matt Coburn sprinting the wrong way up an escalator.” Maybe the catcher will agree, but maybe he will say, “Nah, you’re actually throwing really hard (lie). You’ve got great pop today.” Maybe this lie gives the confidence necessary to throw the fastball aggressively, which is important because every pitch works off of the fastball. Catchers play an important role in inflating our fragile egos.

Trust

If a catcher can throw out runners well, it allows a pitcher to relax and focus more on pitching, rather than holding runners. If a catcher can block well, it gives the pitcher confidence to bounce that 0-2 curveball and get that important strikeout with runners on base. If a catcher reads hitters well, it allows a pitcher to relinquish control of his pitch calling when he might be on the fence or unsure of what to throw to a tough hitter. Two heads are better than one, especially when both have a proven ability to read hitters and call pitches.

And it’s not always about calling pitches – sometimes the catcher is in charge of calling pitchouts (sometimes they are called from the dugout) and pickoffs. Because the catcher has a wide view of the field, he can better assess whether or not a runner is itching to go. Catchers add shakes to pitch sequences to throw a hitter off if he attempts to guess a pitch by reading into whether a pitcher shakes off signs. Often when a pitcher shakes, he is shaking a fastball to get to offspeed, so a few fake shake signs can go a long way in deterring a hitter from reading the pitcher.

Pupils not required.

Working The Umpire

Catchers talk to the plate umpire throughout the game, and they are continually conversing about what is and what is not a strike. Knowing the limits of the strike zone is something that allows the catcher to set up to increase the likelihood of getting a strike called. If, for example, a catcher knows that the umpire will not call a pitch on the inside black that is more than 2 inches off the plate, he can adjust and set up accordingly to maximize his ability as a target. Setting up 4 inches off the plate, in this example, would be putting the target in an unlikely location to get called, especially if the intuition that the batter would freeze on the pitch.

Sure, catchers slowly work off the corners to hopefully expand an umpire’s strikezone, but they also have to work within a happy medium of not going too far as to lead the pitcher astray, where even if he nails the mitt, it won’t be called a strike. Ideally, the catcher will find the right spot to set up where he can get a generous strike call if the mitt is hit without moving. Nothing is more frustrating than to dot the mitt and not get a strike call when a called strike is the desired outcome.

And framing is crucial to making a pitch look callable. Catchers who can frame well have extremely soft hands, thus allowing them to gently move a pitch closer to the strike zone. And even on pitches down in the zone, a good catcher can sort of “vacuum” the ball upward into the zone, increasing the likelihood of a strike call.

Tempers Flare

Catchers and pitchers have an interesting relationship, trying at times, because of the volatile nature of their jobs. I personally get pretty heated when my catcher refuses me when I shake a sign,  forcing me to throw a pitch I do not want. I have had unpleasant words in such a situation. It’s my game and my name on the line, after all. But, catcher’s take stock in the game as well, so they don’t like to get shaken off either sometimes. Every personality is different, so conflicts can and do arise from pitch-call disagreement.

I Love You, Man

All in all, the catcher does a lot to bring out the best in a pitcher, and there is a special relationship between the two that forms out of being in the trenches day after day. It may not always be love, but at least it’s always interesting.

Step 1: Figure Out What You Do Have

You need to use all of your pitches to figure out what’s working and what isn’t. This means looking at how the hitters react to your offerings, as well as your ability to throw strikes with them. Maybe your curve is only effective in the dirt; maybe your changeup only works away to lefties, and you can’t throw it for a called strike; maybe you can get your fastball in to a righty but not a lefty. Whatever it is, you need to figure it out so you can plan your attack. You should never throw everything you’ve got early on, but you should be able to have an idea once you get through the lineup.

I’ll use myself as an example. My last time out, I walked a career-high 5 batters, and issued an additional two free passes by hitting batters on a pair of 0-2 counts. Terrible, I know. My curveball was trash, and I was choking my changeup to death. All I was left with was a fastball that I could locate some of the time, mostly to my arm side.  Yet, that fastball was better than most of their hitters, so my plan was going to center around that pitch.

Sometimes your stuff just won't behave

Step 2: Make or Revise Your Plan

What can you do to get hitters out with the stuff you have? If you can’t throw a pitch for a strike, can you still use it as an out pitch when you’re way ahead? Is there a certain location that you can hit more reliably than others? What’s good about your stuff, that you can use to scratch out a quality start?

I realized early on that my curve wasn’t there, and as I was falling behind with my fastball, it was getting shelved. My change, which had been great for me last time out, was proving difficult to throw where I wanted. The one pitch I had that I knew I could get outs with? Well, it was the pitch that I used to get out of a jam in the first: a hard fastball on the inner third.

They just weren’t getting around on it, and thankfully, I didn’t have to get it onto the black (a tall order with crappy control) to get a good result. I could get ahead away, and then pound it in as hard as I could. It became my go-to pitch, and I induced jam-job grounders and flares for the rest of the game. I’m pretty sure they knew that I wasn’t going to throw a curve for a strike, and my changeup was a non-factor. But on my fastball, they were swinging, just without enough speed to get the head of the bat out.

So what was my plan? Throw it hard at their fists, and see what happens. Sure, I continued to miss, walking and hitting batters to create trouble for myself, but I made quality pitches when I had to. I got by, we got a win, and I learned a little more about pitching.

Step 3: Figure It Out

Step 3 actually takes place after you leave the game. In this step, you try to put your finger on why you sucked so hard, and then go back to work to make sure it doesn’t happen the next time out. Sometimes you can pitch your way out of the trouble you make for yourself, but if you’re routinely taking subpar stuff to the mound, then you might actually just be a subpar pitcher. It’s great to learn how to pitch without your best, but use your preparation time to make sure your best does indeed show up. If you can get a win without anything in the tank, then pitching will be easy when you put it all together.

But in the professional season, off-days are few and far between, and the rotation gives each starter 4 days to prepare for his next outing. Everyone is different in what he needs to prepare, but I’ll share my own preparation schedule that I feel gives me the best chance to succeed and stay strong throughout the season.

Day 0: Pitch (hopefully well)

I do very little on this day.  I stretch everything out, warm up really well, and go out and give em my best on the mound. Afterward I ice my elbow If I think I need it, but I generally am not a big icer.

Day 1: Repair Thyself

I do not lift weights on this day, nor do I do any shoulder or elbow prehab. I usually do not throw, either. My rationale for this is that throwing 100+ pitches is very destructive on the body, and a full day of rest is necessary to keep me healthy. If I do prehab, even without throwing, I’m still not allowing those tired and inflamed tissues in my arm to fully rest. So, I leave my arm alone – completely. I once asked my surgeon what he thought a pitcher should do after a start. His reply? “sit on the couch and eat potato chips.”

I keep off my arm as completely as I can, but my legs are a different story. Day 1 is my big run day, and I like an interval type workout with slightly longer distances. 10-12 “Bows” is one of my favorite workouts on Day 1. A “bow” consists of a very light jog on the warning track, and then an all-out sprint from foul-poul to foul-pole. A short rest is OK in between each bow, as keeping the sprint a sprint is a goal, and too little rest will reduce it to a fast run.

A crude drawing of a Bow

After getting my running done, I do hip work with a mini-band around my ankles, and I get a whole-body stretch in. After that, it’s bucket duty during BP and sitting through the ballgame.

Day 2: The Busy Day

Day 2 is hectic. No rest on this day.

First priority is a full-body lift, which will consist usually just of big, compound lifts like deadlifts, squats, chin-ups, floor pull-ups, and one pushing exercise like DB bench press. In-season I use heavier weights for low reps, with usually one higher-rep set thrown in to maintain my muscle mass. The low rep stuff keeps my max strength up without depleting all my energy, and I’ll typically use sets and reps such as 4×2, 4×3, 2×2 and 3×1, etc., done at 80-85% of my 1rm. Keeping max strength up is crucial, or else you end up a weakling by the all-star break, and all your offseason work becomes for nothing.

After lifting it is time to take care of my arm, which means my complete shoulder circuit of 2-3 sets, and all my elbow prehab. I also like to do some grip work holding heavy weights, (in addition to the deadlifts) like farmers walks or blob holds, if I can, because they make my elbow feel really good. I’m not sure why holding heavy things makes my elbow feel great, but it does.

Holding heavy things is fun!

After all the strength and prehab stuff, hopefully I have few hours break before going to the field. I’ll throw at the park, stretching it out a bit if my arm feels up to it, but basically the goal on this day is to get the arm moving again and prepare for my bullpen the next day.

After throwing, it’s time for al little more running. Short sprints, maybe 12x40yd is about par for this day, but I play it by ear depending on how I feel.

Day 3: Back to Work

Day 3 is highlighted by my heavier bullpen of the week, usually in the 5-10 minute range depending on what I need to work on and how I feel. This pen is thrown at maybe 70-80%, but I might pump it up higher if I feel I need a little higher intensity work, as your pitches and they way they feel change the harder you throw.

I do another set or two of shoulder and elbow prehab, this time with lighter weights. Usually 2lb is all I touch after Day 2 for my shoulders, and I like doing some table scapula stability exercises on Day 3 as well. Elbow work is very light. The workload starts to taper down on Day 3, as I have to be fully recovered by Day 5.

This is the last day I run hard. The other day I did 20x40yd sprints, but I mix it up depending on how I feel. Pick-ups, maybe 3 sets of 20 is something else that I might do on this day, to get some lateral leg work.

Day 4: Tapering Down

On Day 4 I play catch, usually ending with a flat ground or maybe a short, light mound bullpen of just a few minutes. The goal is to keep the arm moving while still working on the feel of my pitches. I feel better on game day when I have played catch the day before, rather than taking day 4 off.

I jog a little bit, just to get the blood flowing. I stretch really well and don’t do any other physical stuff with my arm.

Day 5: Pitch (hopefully well)

Hopefully I maintain my place in the rotation and give the fans something to cheer about. Then the preparation starts back up again!

Again, everyone is different, and this is so far what I have found works for me. Making sure you’re recovered for the next start is key, and if fatigue sets in you have to adjust your workload to compensate, ensuring that you’re at your best every time you take the mound. I enjoy training hard, but being a hero in the weightroom or on the track isn’t worth a damn if it leaves you tired for that next outing.

“The Abiding Place”

Soho calls the place where the mind stops “the abiding place.” The goal of a sportsman is to prevent his mind from ever stopping and becoming “detained” in a single place. Soho says when your mind stops in your hand, your mind will be lost in your hand. If the abiding place is your opponent’s sword, the mind will be trapped in that sword, and as a result of this, Soho claims, your movements will falter and you will be cut down. If your mind never stops, then it can flow freely around your body to produce or counter any movement.

Translation

You cannot let your mind stop on anything; it must flow freely among your entire body to be useful to you and perform optimally. We’ve all been here: when you’re on the mound and you think, “don’t leave the ball over the plate to this guy,” what happens? Your mind becomes detained in that thought, and you can’t execute the pitch. I thought those exact words in a start this season, and I walked that hitter on 4 pitches. Because my mind was so paralyzed by the thought of leaving a ball down the middle, I became unable to throw a strike at all. When you keep your mind completely clear, you become able to execute whatever action you want without your mind clouding the path.

“The Thousand-Armed Kannon”

Kannon was fabled to have 1000 arms on his body, yet he could use them all flawlessly. How could he coordinate such a movement, when we humans can barely use two hands dextrously? Soho says that because Kannon’s mind flowed freely throughout his body, being nowhere and everywhere at the same time, each arm could be useful. Yet, if Kannon’s mind dwelled on a single arm, the other 999 would become useless.

Translation

How many times have you seen a pitcher who could throw pitches in to a paper cup all day long, yet when he fields a ground ball, throws it into the stands? Why does such an accurate thrower suddenly lose complete control of the arm that makes him great? His mind stops.

Maybe it stops on his arm. Maybe it stops on the first baseman’s mitt. Or maybe it stops in the thought of him overthrowing the first baseman. Either way, his mind becomes trapped, and he loses the normal functioning he is accustomed to.

Soho compares the mind in this analogy of Kannon to the eye: look at one single leaf on a tree and you cannot see a single other, but look at the tree with a blank mind, and you can see ten thousand leaves all at once. It is with this approach that he claims you can twart multiple attackers – by not focusing your mind on a single attacker, you are able to seamlessly counter the blows of each one. By thinking of any one aspect of one’s windup, be-it the leg lift, the stride, or the hand separation, it becomes difficult to put the whole motion together and throw an accurate pitch. But by keeping a clear  mind with no abiding place, the pitching delivery becomes seamless, organic, repeatable and accurate.

“The No-Mind-No-Thought”

Although it does not

mindfully keep guard

In the small mountain fields

the scarecrow

does not stand in vain     – The Buddhist priest Bukkoku

What does this poem mean? To Soho, it explains perfectly the state of being in No-Mind-No-Thought. No-Mind-No-Thought is when the mind is allowed to move freely and without any physical place or thoughts to trap it. When one enters competition with a mind that is without thought and without an abiding place, it allows the body to simply perform the movements that it has practiced. Any high-level pitcher has performed his motion enough times to do it perfectly in the dark – the muscles, when allowed to, will simply take over and do what they have been programmed to do it. The difficult thing is getting to this state of advanced consciousness. When one performs with No-Mind-No-Thought, his movements can be said to exemplify…

“The Action of Spark and Stone”

When one strikes a flint, there is no interval between the striking and the spark – no gap between the strike and the light. When one can train his body and mind to reach No-Mind-No-Thought, his actions become this same way. If a hitter has to tell himself to swing while a 98 mph fastball is on its way, he will swing and miss every time. The reason major league hitters can hit such an impossibly fast pitch is that there is no gap between their eye’s recognition of the pitch and their body’s decision to swing. “Swing now” does not exist in such an elite hitter – the body just swings, because the body and mind do not detain each other. Likewise, if a pitcher wants to throw a curveball, requiring a turn of the wrist at a very precise moment before release, there is no time for the mind to tell the wrist to turn – it just happens without any interval whatsoever. When an athlete lets his mind get in the way of these actions, then his actions fail, and he loses. Or, in the case of the samurai, he gets cut down by the sword.

What To Take Away

The mind needs to be clear, to flow freely wherever it is needed; when it can do this, your physical body will be allowed to perform as it is intended. Anytime you let your mind dwell on something while in the midst of competition, your performance will suffer as a result of your mind being taken by that thought, and the intentional object of that thought.

The Samurai had to meditate a tremendous amount to build the mental conditioning necessary to fight effectively for their lives. Letting their minds stop anywhere often led to their death, as Soho preached. Fortunately we modern athletes are rarely fighting for our literal lives; yet, everyday we fight for our lives in sport and for the right to continue to take the field and carry on with a career that is life to most of us.

So as the pitchers leaned on the railing, watching the games, we bounced ideas off each other and our pitching coach about each hitter. Some of the things discussed were:

1. The stance: Where does he start? Open, closed, hands high or low? Where do his hands go when he strides, and where does his stride take him?
2. The batspeed: Does he have any?
3. Tendencies: Is he looking to pull? Letting the ball get deep? Can he hit an inside fastball? An outside fastball? What can he handle up in the zone? Does his approach noticeably change when ahead or behind in the count?
4. Swing path: Does he want to extend his arms, or does he stay compact? Is his swing inside-out? Does he go straight to the ball or have a loop?
5. Where is he in the lineup? What is his job likely to be? Is he a bunter with runners on? Will he try to move the runners over when he should, or will he hit more selfishly?

These are a lot of the things that we think about, trying to get a handle on where to throw certain batters. Even if our analysis gets a little complicated, our approach and job always stays simple. You try to figure out which guys can hit a fastball in, and which ones can’t – if they can’t then you exploit it. If they can’t hit away but try to jump on something in, then let’s throw him away. If they suck at hitting offspeed then maybe we force them to hit offspeed. But, baseball changes according to situations, and so there is never an exact science behind pitch calling. Sometimes you pitch a guy according to your read and he beats you, but next time out you don’t let him beat you the same way again, and you don’t deviate from your own strengths. At the very least, you go with your best pitch, regardless of who is at the plate.

And remember, analyzing a hitter isn’t done to make a pitcher “beware” of their strengths – it’s to get a handle on what he tries to do at the plate. One should never go out on the mound with the mindset of, “if I miss inside he is going to crush it, but if I throw away I’ll be safe.” That mindset teaches a pitcher to be timid, when above all, aggressive pitching is effective pitching. Know the hitter, but never give him too much credit. Albert Pujols sees maybe 2000 pitches a year, and still only hits 40 out of the park. Find out what they’ve got and where they’re weak, but don’t be afraid to challenge and outcompete them where they’re strong.

Here’s how Independent ball works, and why it can be harder than affiliated ball to keep your job:

1. The coaches want to develop you into the best you can be, but their first goal is to win. This is because they aren’t affiliated with a MLB team, and so the team at hand is what pays the bills. If you can’t help them win, they have to find someone who will. You don’t get 2 years for them to try to make you into something – you get 3 weeks. Guys sometimes get released after throwing one bullpen or hitting one round of BP in camp (though my coaches gave us a really thorough chance to show what we had).
2. There’s tons of guys with experience, who have played at a higher level and gotten released, and they have priority for roster slots. Is this unfair? No. It’s life. If you want to break in you just have to be better than the guys who have been around.
3. The pool of players are all very good and very close in talent level. It often comes down to small things that separate players or their aforementioned track record.
4. New players are constantly looking for jobs. Our coaches said they got calls every day from guys who had gotten released, guys they knew were good. We picked up a pitcher 10 days into camp, and he is good, and he made the team. There is always someone out there looking to replace you.

So as I arrived in camp, amongst 17 other pitchers, nearly all of whom were taller than me, I felt like whatever talent I had would get lost in the sea of 90mph fastballs. It’s an awesome feeling to know that you have the better part of a dozen 90+ arms on your squad, except when you’re competing with them to stay on said squad. We let go of some good pitchers, and are left with a lot of really good pitchers. Having made it through, I feel great about our ability to shut other teams down.

But, the one piece of advice I had heard from all they guys who had been here before me was, “worry about yourself and do your thing. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you start picking the roster and worrying about how other guys are throwing.” It was good advice, and I tried my best to just keep focus on myself and do my best. In the end, that’s all anybody has, and even with hitters in the box, it’s just you competing to throw your pitch to the mitt. That was my goal, to keep that tunnel vision the whole way through.

But it’s not that easy. You wonder who has a spot locked up because they played affiliated ball last year, and who they like as starters and relievers, and what your role might be. And when you think about all these things, suddenly your future feels beyond your control. I fought to keep my future, mentally, in my own hands every single day.

I didn’t go out, thereby avoiding any bar fights or hangovers. I was in bed at 9 or 10 every night (not because I wanted to, but because when you have 9:30am practice and you’re that bored you just fall asleep). I watched 3 gory movies a day with Dennis, my host “Dad.”

I took care of my arm, and made sure I physically had what I needed every day for practice. When the team ran, I ran hard, because I really wanted to be there. I didn’t know what it would take, but I didn’t want to get beat out because of some controllable detail. I’ve never been good enough yet to take those little details for granted.

But I learned a lot, and thankfully didn’t get released in my first of hopefully many spring trainings. I executed in all of my chances on the mound, which is all I could ask of myself. In my career it had been a long road to get this opportunity, and I didn’t want to stumble at the finish line. While I can’t control what happens after the pitch leaves my hand, or whether those who evaluate me like the pitches I throw, I try to take care of everything else that falls within my power.

So having earned the right to stay, I took a deep breath, called a few people and shared some good news, and have turned my focus forward to Saturday. Making the team and earning the right to wear No.9 on gameday was the biggest accomplishment of my life so far, but now that’s in the past. I thought I would have this big rush of relief, but I don’t, and that’s because I have just as much work to do as before. It’s good to set goals like stepping stones – and now that I’ve planted my feet firmly on one, I’ve got to go out and pitch well to keep moving forward. Gotta give my team a chance to win every time I step on the hill.

No matter how far you get, it’s better to feel like you’ve accomplished nothing; You’ll never cease to be hungry. When it’s all said and done, then look back and be proud.

1. Similarity and Deception: A curve thrown within 15mph of one’s fastball won’t “pop” out of the hand. This is an interesting phenomenon – on almost all slow curves, the ball will appear to pop up out of the hand immediately upon release, and batters can easily pick this up. Curves that are thrown harder tend to take the same flight pattern as a fastball out of the hand, eliminating this tell for the batter, forcing the hitter to wait longer before deciding what the pitch is and where it will end up.
2. Sharper and later break: This is just physics – the harder the ball is thrown with forward spin and the faster it will move when it does start to break, and the extra velocity will help it travel farther before breaking. The pitch won’t break as far, but any hitter will tell you that a short, sharp curve is more difficult to square up than a long, loopy one.
3. Shorter Reaction Time: Duh. Throw it harder and their reaction time is shortened, making any pitcher harder to hit.

The Ol’ Vida Blue

The first reason is probably the least mainstream, and is something that hitters start to pick up on when they reach the more elite ranks. High school hitters don’t pick up on much unless they’re special, but college and pro ones do. That slow curve almost always appears to start going upward out of the hand, which makes it look larger, and tells the hitter that a fastball is not on its way. It is something that is hard to describe, but is easily seen from the batter’s perspective.

The solution to this is to throw the pitch harder. For those who throw it 20 miles per hour slower than a fastball, getting to that 17mph difference will feel like the ball is coming out very fast. Those first few bullpens will be filled with curves in the dirt as the arm speeds up faster than the grip is used to. But, over time, that 17 will feel normal, and 15 will be possible. Falling somewhere between 12-15mph slower is where almost all curves are thrown at the pro level, and one’s goal should be to get to the point of throwing the curveball with the exact same intentional speed as the fastball. This will maximize all of the off-speed benefits the pitch has to offer.

So go watch some games, and pay attention to the numbers. Aside from Ted Lilly and a few others, most curves will be at or under that 15mph threshold. The site fangraphs.com is pretty cool, as they show you pitch speeds for all major league pitchers. Check out Justin Verlander’s chart here.

Maybe if it gets good enough, someone will compare your curve to Vida Blue, who apparently threw a pretty nasty one. In the immortal words of my friend Joe Michalski… “Give ‘em the ol’ Vida Blue Hammer!”

This is a drill that I have been doing for about 9 years now.  I learned it from my friend Duane Rhine, who taught me the curveball that got me into college.  My hammer was the only reason my 78-81 arm ever saw the mound as a freshman, and this drill helps tremendously to get the spin and consistent release down.

The point of the bucket? Well, that’s your “strike” release point.  Don’t expect the ball to break at such low velocity; just work on getting tight spin from your grip and follow through. Learn to nail that bucket on a consistent basis and you will have no trouble spotting up that curve in game situations.  It’s all about repetition with proper mechanics.