As high school coaches we have all been there—we have a pitcher that has all the tools, they have the body, the work ethic, the talent, but when it comes to changing or working on their mechanics, they don’t seem to get it. Nothing seems to click. We keep using the terms that were taught to us, “keep your front side closed, create more hip shoulder separation,” or we use the hot-button terms of the day. “Create a higher spin rate,” or “put more force into the ground.” However, despite all our desire to fix them or create better habits on the mound, we end up confusing the pitcher more than helping. Sometimes we create worse habits or worse mechanics than before because they understand the “terminology” differently in their mind. In these cases we must think outside the box, and personally, I am a proponent of using external cues to create the mechanics we want. Then, once that movement is done correctly, we can pair that external cue to the piece of “lingo” that might be used with them by another coach in their baseball career.
Two years ago, I had a freshman pitcher who couldn’t use his body very well. He was six feet tall with long levers and he was throwing well below what he should have been, based on his strength and mobility measurements. His big issue was he wasn’t leveraging his long arms and legs into his mechanics, and he was just using his arm to guide the ball where he wanted it. When I sat down with this young man and mapped out his goals, he wanted to throw harder. I decided I was going to share all my “knowledge and expertise” to make this kid throw to his full potential. As young coaches we always think we have the answer. This athlete got on the mound one day and for one 15-20 pitch bullpen, we did it all: he was flying open and pushing the ball and we were working on lengthening the arm path and keeping his front side closed. He said, “yes sir” and tried to do what I said, to his credit. Well, that forced his arm to be late and he never kept his front side closed but he looked more like a Johnny Cueto-freestyle-windup with every subsequent pitch, trying to close off at the top of his delivery. I couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t listening and couldn’t grasp the concept. I racked my brain trying to understand what was so difficult about what I was asking him to do. I tried to show him myself and I even pulled up video of other pitchers to try and show him what he needed to do. As a young coach, I didn’t realize or account for the fact that he thought he was telling his body to do the things I had asked, and he was too afraid as a freshman to tell me he didn’t understand what I was saying. He got more discouraged with every bullpen.
This pattern continued for a few more bullpens and I couldn’t figure out what was happening and why this kid didn’t understand what I was trying to teach him. Then we had a weightlifting session I sat in with our head coach, who was leading the workout. When one of the kids didn’t understand how to keep a neutral gaze on a squat, he told the athlete to imagine that he was balancing a book on his head throughout the lift. Something in my brain clicked. He was using an external cue that the kid would understand to achieve the desired action. The more I thought about it, I realized that this happens in the strength and conditioning world all the time to teach mechanics of lifts. Whether it’s the random guy at the gym showing you how to single arm row; “act like you’re pulling a lawn mower starter,” or your school’s track coach using the potato chip in the fingers example for runners, external cues are used all the time. I wanted to take this theory to the mound and see if it would work.
The next bullpen I had with this athlete I told him we were going to look at his mechanical issues from a completely different point of view. I told him to flush everything I told him and just try to accomplish the tasks I was going to put in front of him. The first task I gave him was to throw the ball through the catcher. I gave him freedom to accomplish the task by telling him I didn’t care where the ball ended up, but I wanted him to imagine putting a hole through the catcher with the baseball. He went through his mechanics and his arm path was longer, but on time, and the ball was right where he wanted it with zip. Then I told him on the next pitch to sit in the catcher’s mitt as he threw, and lo and behold he used his legs a little more efficiently and his front side stayed closed longer than I had ever seen it before. This gave us a base of feeling for the athlete that had been missing. We could now start to fine-tune mechanics because he had begun to feel how his body should move in space.
This experience taught me a few things. First and foremost, it taught me that athletes don’t know what they don’t know. If they don’t understand the terms you’re using or how to implement them it is highly unlikely they will understand the movement. We aren’t replacing the mechanical tools or terms that have been used for years, we are simply bridging the gap between the high school athletes’ brains and the movement we want their bodies to execute.
Another thing this particular experience taught me is that external cues can be a great way to keep it simple. We play and coach a game that is easy to understand and difficult to execute; sometimes the best way to teach and learn is by keeping it simple. Lastly, it taught me that all athletes are different, and all athletes move differently in space. We cannot force our athletes to be cookie cutter carbon copies of the best guys we have coached or played with. Obviously, when looking at elite players there are things they all have in common, but to get to that movement pattern, every player will comprehend data differently. To be a good coach we must adapt to the players’ strengths and how they understand their bodies and how they move.
Next time you are at a crossroads with an athlete who doesn’t understand a specific movement or mechanic, I challenge you to think outside the box and try external cues. The results might just unlock something in that player that you didn’t think they had. It also might unlock a new coaching tool for you to try with future players as well.
Griffin Tate is the Assistant Athletic Director and Head Baseball Coach at Maryville Christian School in Maryville, Tennessee. He assisted at Clinton (TN) High School and Harmony (FL) High School. Tate also played and coached at Johnson University in Knoxville. He and his wife Kristi have a son, Ryan.