Today was the varsity team’s first game of the season… it was 1-0 for them into the th and they put me in to shut them down and give us a chance in the 7th (we only play 7 innings here)
Felt good warming up, throwing strikes, throwing hard… hadn’t thrown since I was shut down for 2 weeks due to a small tear in my bicep tendon.
ended up walking 6, and having an opposite field grand slam hit off me. I’ve never been taken out of the infield before so I had no idea what to make of being taken over the fence… I just kept doing what I was doing … which was trying to figure out what I was doing wrong that was making me so wild.
Everyone is telling me it’s just because I haven’t thrown in 2 weeks but that’s no excuse for me
Ok, I had to vent somewhere before I went on a massacre.
Any ideas on how to deal with realizing that you are going to get hit after 2 years of striking everyone out?
Flush it and move on. The more you think about it the better the chances that it will repeat.
You know, the same exact thing happened to me just last week. I came into pitch and walked 7 OUT OF 8 BATTERS IN ONE INNING. I felt great in the pen. Throwing strikes. But in the game, I just could not find it. I was trying fix my problems but it was just one of those days. I am the ace on the team JV and really was disappointed with how I preformed after finally getting my chance to pitch in a varsity game against a quality opponent.
Some people might think it was nervousness, but I don’t. When I look back, I realized that I was so pumped up and exited to prove myself that I was just crazy.
Now, all I can do is work on my problems and get em next time.
We all have failure under our belts, it is what makes us ready for the successes.
This may sound corny but find your happy place (get your minds out of the gutters first) and try to relax yourself, be focused but relaxed on the mound, tension and being over excited won’t do you any favors.
I recall one time when I was talking with my pitching coach, and I mentioned that I knew that he didn’t win games all the time, that he lost now and then. I wanted to know how he reacted to this. His answer surprised me: “You sound like a pitcher who has never lost a game.” I had to admit that such was the case, and then he told me: “I’ve lost some now and then—but it all depends on the loss. Oh, I’ve been belted around, 9-2, 11-3 and the like—but although I don’t like it very much I’m not upset by it because all those scores tell me is that I just didn’t have my good stuff on those days. What gets me is those close ones—2-1, 3-1…and those are the times that will often find me in the locker room, just sitting there and chewing myself out for letting those games get away from me. One time we played Detroit, and I lost 3-2, and there was no living with me after that game. I might as well have gone fishing.” Interesting, how he put all this into perspective. 8)
Yeah, well thats going to happen, and the longer you are around the game, the more you’ll experience it. Whether you’ll admit it or not, two weeks away from the mound is a perfectly good excuse for not throwing well, but I hear where your coming from. Just put it behind you, focus on the next game, its all you can do. Being a starter after a bad outing is tough, you have alot of time to think about things, but just get some work in, do everything you can to get ready for your next start, and the rest will sort itself out.
Yes, I’ve seen a lot of that, and I’ve heard a lot of stories. What just came to mind was one about a pitcher with the Cincinnati Reds in the early 60s—they seemed to have quite a few with similar problems. This guy started a game, and he got belted around, and when he was finally removed from the game he went back to the dugout and just sat there, bemoaning the fact that his fast ball had deserted him. Over and over, he kept moaning “Without my fast ball I can’t pitch.” In vain did reliever Jim Brosnan, who might have made a very good pitching coach if he’d wanted to, try to explain to this poor fish: “Nobody has his best stuff every time out. That’s when you learn this game. You have other pitches to throw—use them when your fast ball isn’t there.” But Brosnan might as well have been talking to the wall; this poor fish, who went by the name of Jay Hook, wasn’t listening. He just kept moaning “Without my fast ball I can’t pitch.” He didn’t last very long in the majors after that.
You chalk that one up to the baseball demons and you move on. 8)