The Dropped Third-Strike Drill

Posted by Nolan Dalla on Sep 16, 2012 in Blog, Essays | 2 comments

Writer’s Note:  This is the second in a two-part series.  This blog is contributed by someone who wishes to remain anonymous.  All names of those in this story have been changed at the author’s request.  Please take the time to read this.  It’s beautifully written — and a wonderful inspiration to kids and adults alike.

PART II.

If you’re a kid playing baseball, there is nothing that causes more disappointment than striking out.

You walk up to the plate and every eye in the stadium is focused on you.   Regardless of what the statistics indicate about your potential for success, the level of expectation is still high.  When a pitcher gives up a home run, it is certainly a disappointment for him.  But everyone knows that in order to be effective in his role a pitcher must throw strikes.  Pitches in the strike zone are, for the most part, hittable and sometimes they are hit out of the park.

When you’ve struck out however, you have either missed the pitches that were in the strike zone, or swung at pitches that were not.  Sometimes both.  You were given multiple opportunities and you wasted them.  To make matters worse you must now take a long, lonely stroll back to the dugout, which affords you ample opportunity to contemplate your recent failure.

But you are certainly NOT a failure — for in the battle between pitcher and hitter, a significant advantage belongs to the pitcher in almost every case.

It has been said that hitting a round ball with a round bat is the hardest fundamental task in all of sports and yet each time you come up to the plate, you expect to and are expected by others to, hit the ball.

When a player makes an error, he may be given the opportunity to redeem himself on the very next pitch.  A diving catch or a perfect throw results in a stadium full of cheering fans, and the dejection that was felt mere seconds ago has now been drastically reduced if not completely eliminated and replaced by a sense of joy and accomplishment.  Strike out however, and several innings will likely pass before you get another chance to bat.  You will carry that sense of failure with you from the batter’s box to the dugout and when you take your position on the field, that sense of failure will continue to haunt you.  It will likely persist even as you take your next turn at bat.  Striking out can be horrible.  Indeed, the disposition of the entire town was adversely affected — their hopes gone, their dreams crushed — by one single example of missed opportunity when The Mighty Casey struck out.

Every summer there are kids on diamonds all across America striking out.  They walk back to their dugouts with their heads hung low while their parents either sink in their seats trying to hide, or scream at them to keep their eye on the ball, or worse yet, telling them they suck.  Right, as if that beer-bellied dad could hit a 65-mph fastball on the inside corner thrown by a 11 year old from just 45 feet away.

Pick any team, on any summer day, on any diamond in America and I guarantee you’ll see it — unless by some miraculous improbability the team you pick happens to be one that I coach.

When coaching youth sports, I believe that it’s important to be as positive as possible.  Emphasize successes, not failures and look for opportunities to promote success in difficult or disappointing situations.  Give the athlete something specific to focus on improving rather than dwelling on the negative result.