Behind the Plate, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1: A Problem Throwing
CHAPTER 2: To Right Field
CHAPTER 3: The Yips
CHAPTER 4: Tips to Beat the Yips
CHAPTER 5: The Cause
CHAPTER 6: Game On
CHAPTER 7: Up to Bat
CHAPTER 8: The Big Finish
CHAPTER 1
A PROBLEM THROWING
Danny crouched behind home plate. His left arm was extended in front of him. His right hand was tucked behind his glove. His catcher’s mitt was open and ready for the ball.
His teammate Jack stood on the pitcher’s mound. Jack went into his windup. Danny sat steady and still, but his heart raced. He couldn’t wait for what was about to happen.
The ball flew through the air and popped into Danny’s glove. He sprang out of his crouch like a lion after its prey. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the ball, reached his hand behind his head, and gunned a throw to second base.
His mask twisted sideways on his face. Danny ripped the mask away so he could watch the flight of the ball.
His teammate Mike ran over from his position between first and second base to make the catch. Danny watched as the ball landed in Mike’s glove. It was close to the ground and just a foot away from the base.
“Great throw!” shouted Mike.
“Great catch!” yelled Danny. He pulled his mask back on and returned to his position behind the plate.
It was the first practice of the season. Danny felt good. He loved this drill. He could hardly wait to throw real base runners out in a game.
“Time for pitchers’ practice,” called Coach Byrd.
“Just one more?” asked Danny. He stood up and pleaded with his coach. “I think I can get the ball even closer to the bag.”
“Okay, one more,” said Coach Byrd, smiling. “But our pitchers need a workout, too.”
“Thanks, Coach,” Danny said, returning to his crouch.
Jack lobbed another ball from the pitcher’s mound. Danny caught it and repeated his routine.
He fired another throw to second base. This time the ball landed only inches off the plate. The infielder let out a whoop as he caught the ball and put the tag on an invisible runner.
“Great job, Danny,” said Coach Byrd.
“Another perfect play,” said Alex, walking toward the mound. “Now, are you ready for some perfect pitches?”
“Bring ’em on!” said Danny.
Danny and Alex were best friends, and they had been teammates for three years. Alex was the star pitcher, and Danny was the Dodgers’ starting catcher.
They were an amazing combination. The year before, their team had advanced far into the playoffs, just missing the championship round.
Alex and Danny were determined to help the Dodgers go all the way this season.
Alex stood on the mound, and Danny waited for his throw. “Let’s see what you’ve got!” Danny yelled.
Alex unleashed the pitch. The ball shot from his hand like a rubber band. Danny remained in his squat as the ball smacked hard into his glove.
“Nice!” Danny said. “I think you’ve picked up some speed over the winter.”
Danny stood up and started to toss the ball back to Alex. Suddenly his arm went limp. Something didn’t feel right.
He let go of the ball, but the throw felt funny. The ball bounced twice in the dirt before rolling to Alex’s feet.
“What was that?” asked Alex.
Danny shook his head. He stretched out his throwing arm. “I guess I’m just tired from practice,” he said.
Alex laughed, and then prepared for his next throw. He fired another pitch, and again Danny stood and tossed the ball back to Alex. This time his throw was even worse. The ball rolled into the grass in front of the mound.
“What the heck?” Danny said to himself.
“Come on,” said Alex. “You can fire a bullet to second, but you can’t make a simple toss to me? Quit goofing around.”
“I’m not,” said Danny.
Alex let another pitch fly, and another. Both times, Danny’s throws back to him were off target.
“Are you okay?” asked Coach Byrd.
“I’m fine,” said Danny. “Pitch me another one, Alex.”
Alex reared back and threw one more fastball. This time Danny stood up slowly. He concentrated on the throw. He did not want to miss Alex again.
Danny cocked his arm behind his body, reached forward, and let go of the ball. It sailed high into the air, up and over Alex’s outstretched glove. Danny just stared in disbelief.
“Take a break,” said Coach Byrd.
“But I can do it,” said Danny. “I know I can.”
“I know you can, too,” said Coach Byrd. “Just take a few laps around the field. Then come back and we’ll try again.”
“But …” said Danny.
“But nothing,” said Coach Byrd. “Start running. That’s an order.”
Danny walked into the dugout and removed his catching gear. As he jogged into the outfield, he thought about what had happened.
He had no idea what was wrong. The difficult throws were easy to make, but suddenly the easy throws had become nearly impossible.
CHAPTER 2
TO RIGHT FIELD
A week later, Danny and Alex stood together on the pitcher’s mound. The Dodgers were warming up for the season’s first game. They were getting ready to play the White Sox.
Danny had struggled in every practice leading up to the game. Most of his throws to the mound had been fine. But every now and then, he would throw a ball over the pitcher’s head or into the dirt at the pitcher’s feet. He’d made mistakes he shouldn’t have made.
“What if I can’t throw back to you?” Danny asked Alex as they warmed up. “What if I screw up?”
“You won’t,” said Alex. “When it’s game time, you’re always in the zone.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Danny.
“Play ball!” shouted the umpire.
Danny turned and jogged toward home. “I can do this,” he said to himself. “I’ve made these throws all my life. There’s nothing to it.”
He placed his right arm behind his back and extended his glove hand in front of his body. He waited for Alex to make the delivery.
The ball came in hard. The White Sox batter swung quickly and pounded a hard shot over the third baseman.
As the Dodgers’ left fielder ran to collect the ball, the hitter made it to second base with ease. It was a leadoff double.
Danny immediately began to worry about the runner on second. He thought about his throwing problems and let out a deep breath.
“Here we go,” he said.
Alex paused on the mound and then went into his windup. He gunned the ball toward home. Danny waited. The batter watched the pitch sail outside for a ball.
Danny easily caught the ball. It’s just an easy throw to the pitcher, he thought. There’s nothing to it.
He reached back, but something wasn’t right. His arm felt like a wet noodle. He released the ball.
Right away, he could tell that his throw was going to be bad. And he was right. Alex couldn’t catch it. The ball glanced off his glove and dribbled into short right field. The runner on second base saw his chance. He ran to third.
From there, things only got worse. On the next pitch, Danny was so focused on making a good throw to Alex that he didn’t even catch the ball. It slipped under his glove and rolled to the backstop.
The runner from third came across home plate to score. It was 1 to 0, only one White Sox player had batted, and Danny had already committed two errors. The game wasn’t looking good.
Danny made two more throwing errors and the White Sox scored three more times before the Dodgers finally earned three outs.
As the Dodgers walked slowly into the dugout, Coach Byrd followed Danny. “I’m moving you to right field,” Coach Byrd said.
“Right field?” asked Danny. “But I’m a catcher.”
“Not today,” said Coach Byrd. “I’m sorry, but we can’t risk any more errors.”
“I’ll do better,” said Danny.
“Yes, you will,” said Coach Byrd. “You’ll do better next game. For now, I need you in right.”
Danny sat down on the bench next to Alex. “I’m jinxed,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” said Alex, laughing. “You’re too good to be playing so bad.”
“Thanks a lot,” Danny said, leaning his head against the dugout wall.
CHAPTER 3
THE YIPS
The next morning, Danny pedaled his bike across town. The team had the day off. He planned to spend it with his dad.
Even though Danny was happy to get a break from the baseball field, a different sort of problem lay ahead of him. Danny’s mom and dad had gotten divorced a few months earlier. And lately nothing had been easy between Danny and his dad. Every minute they spent together was awkward.
Danny pulled up to the two-story apartment building and locked his bike to the fence. The brick building was old. The bushes near the walls were overgrown and needed to be trimmed.
He entered the building and met his dad outside his apartment door. The two of them hugged. “It’s good to see you, kiddo,” said his dad. “Come on in.”
The apartment was small, and it smelled a little like old socks. But Danny wanted to be upbeat. “Nice place,” he said.
“Thanks,” said Dad. “I was hoping you would like it. There’s a pool, too. And even a basketball court. We can
“Cool,” said Danny. He set his bag on the floor and sat down on the sofa. “The furniture’s nice,” he said.
Dad laughed. “I like it,” he said. “But I’m not sure all the pieces match. Your mom was always the one with the style in our house.” He paused. “Speaking of your mom, how is she?”
“She’s good,” said Danny.
Dad sat down in a chair across from him. “And how are you?” he asked. He leaned forward. “Are you still seeing that counselor at school?”
“I’m fine,” said Danny. He squirmed in his chair. There were several seconds of silence. Finally, Danny looked at his dad and gave him a weak smile. “Can we talk about something else?” Danny asked.
“I’m sorry,” said Dad. He got up from his chair. “You just got here. I shouldn’t be asking you so many questions.”
His dad went into the kitchen and came back with two cans of soda. “What should we talk about?” Dad asked.
Danny opened his can and took a long drink. “I have a baseball problem. Maybe you can help me with it,” he said.
“Sure,” said his dad. “What is it?”
“I’m having trouble throwing to the mound,” said Danny.
“You mean throwing back to your pitcher?” asked Dad.
“Yeah,” said Danny. “My throws are either super short or they fly off in the wrong direction. It’s driving me crazy.”
“That’s the yips,” said his dad, nodding.
“The what?” Danny asked. “Are you being serious?”
“Totally serious. The yips are when a ball player suddenly has difficulty making routine plays,” Dad said. “It happens in baseball and in golf and in all sorts of sports.”
Danny frowned. “I’ve never heard of the yips,” he said.
“It’s pretty common,” Dad said. “I bet there’s information on the Internet that could help you. Why don’t you do some research? I’ll make us some lunch.” Dad went back into the kitchen. Then he called out, “Does grilled cheese sound okay?”
“Sure,” said Danny.
Danny looked around at the tiny apartment. So much in his life had changed. He wanted his old life back. He wanted his old dad back. And he didn’t want to have the yips.
CHAPTER 4
TIPS TO BEAT THE YIPS
Later that evening, Danny and Alex were back at the ballpark. Danny was behind home plate. Alex was on the mound. He was holding a printout of an article Danny had found online.
“It’s called ‘the yips,’ huh?” said Alex. “That’s a weird name. It sounds like a disease.”
“I know,” said Danny. “But a whole bunch of guys have had them.”
Danny started listing players. “Chuck Knoblauch for the Yankees, Steve Sax for the L.A. Dodgers, and Rick Ankiel for the Cardinals,” he said. “The article says that some players get the yips because of an injury, a traumatic event, or because of personal stress.”
“Then there’s just one question,” said Alex. “Can you beat the yips?”
“I’m going to try my hardest,” said Danny. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” said Alex. He looked at the article. “It says here you need to visualize yourself throwing the ball back to the mound before you throw it. Picture yourself making the perfect throw to your pitcher.”
“Right,” said Danny. “Put the paper down. Let’s try it.”
Alex grabbed a ball and got ready to throw it. “Picture yourself throwing now!” he yelled.
Danny took a deep breath and pictured himself making an easy toss back to Alex. He imagined his arm going back and then gently moving forward as he snapped his wrist and released the ball. It seemed so easy.
“Okay!” he shouted to Alex.
Alex threw him a pitch. Danny caught it and stood up for the throw. He reached back and tried to recreate the picture he had just seen in his mind. Finally, he let go of the ball. It missed Alex’s glove by six feet and rolled toward the infield.
“Shoot,” Danny muttered.
“It’s just one throw,” said Alex, running after the ball. “Let’s try it again.”
“It didn’t work,” Danny said. “Let’s try something else.”
Alex grabbed the article. “Another trick is to clear your mind,” he said. “Try not to think about the throw.”
“First it says to think about the throw,” said Danny. “Then it says to not think about it. Maybe this article is a waste of time.”
“I thought you said you wanted to beat the yips,” said Alex.
“I do,” said Danny. “Okay. I’ll clear my mind. But how?”
“You’re supposed to think of something completely different from baseball,” said Alex. “Like a sunny beach or your favorite food or a cute girl.” He looked at Danny. “You should think about Emily Akers from biology.”
“I’ll think about a hot fudge sundae,” said Danny.
“Whatever,” said Alex with a shrug. He tossed Danny the ball.
“Rich chocolate,” Danny whispered to himself. “Smooth ice cream. Peanuts.” He caught the ball. “And thick whipped cream.”
He moved the ball to his right hand and sent it back to Alex. The ball sailed three feet over Alex’s head.
“I told you to think about Emily,” said Alex, laughing.
Danny shook his head. “What’s next?” he asked. “I have to figure this out.”
“You need to have patience,” said Alex. “Give these cures some time.”
“I don’t have time. Our next game is tomorrow,” said Danny. “I need to get better. Now.”
Alex read more from the article. “Okay, listen to this one,” he said. “I think you’re going to like it. It doesn’t involve thinking or not thinking.”
“Sounds good so far,” said Danny.
“It says that before you throw the ball, you should smack it into your glove a couple of times,” Alex said.
“Why?” asked Danny.
“It’s supposed to make you focus on the smacking instead of the throwing,” said Alex.
“Okay, I’ll try it,” said Danny. “I like that one.”
Alex set himself on the mound as Danny went into his crouch. Alex leaned back and lobbed the ball to home.
Danny caught it, and then got to his feet. “Here goes,” he whispered.
SMACK! SMACK! He pounded the ball into his glove, and then tossed it back to Alex. The throw was perfect.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” shouted Alex.
“Yes!” said Danny. “It worked! Let’s try it again.”
Alex pitched several more strikes to Danny. Each time, Danny smacked the ball into his glove twice. Then he made a perfect throw back to the mound.
“You’re back!” shouted Alex.
“Finally!” Danny said. He smiled. He felt more relaxed than he had all season.
“Now feel my heater,” said Alex as he went into his windup.
“Bring it on!” yelled Danny.
Alex let go of the ball. It flew toward home plate and popped loudly into Danny’s glove. “Nice!” shouted Danny.
He stood up. He pounded the ball into his glove. Then he threw it back to Alex. To Danny’s horror, the ball sailed wildly into the outfield. He brought both hands to his head. “Not again!” he moaned.
Alex shook his head. “It looks like we need to find another cure,” he said. “Your yips are pretty bad.”
CHAPTER 5
THE CAUSE
Danny sat on the pitcher’s mound. “What am I going to do?” he asked. “My baseball career is dead.”
“No, it’s not,” said Alex. “I’m sure you’ll get rid of your yips eventually.”
The two of them sat for a while in the middle of the baseball field. Danny grabbed pebbles from the dirt around the mound and tried to make them land on home plate.
“I wonder what made this happen, anyway,” Danny said. “It’s so weird.” He threw a rock, and it landed perfectly on the plate.
Both boys laughed. “You can’t hit my glove to save your life,” said Alex. “But you can put a tiny rock on a seventeen-inch base from fifty feet away.”
“Yeah,” said Danny. He threw some more stones.
“Wait a minute,” said Alex. “What did you just say?”
“I agreed with you,” said Danny. “It’s funny that I can throw a rock onto home plate, but I can’t land a baseball in your glove.”
