Chapter 2 Mental Discipline
Being able to adapt to changing circumstances has helped me tremendously -- it has been one of the keys to my success. When I first came up from the minors, for example, I'd dare a hitter to try to handle my fastball. I applied the mentality of a gunfighter to my craft. A guy either had the skill and timing to hit the heater or he struck out.
I don't really think of myself as a gunfighter anymore. The fastball is still my bread-and-butter pitch, and I'll go with it in crucial situations. But I'm much more conscious of location. That's the biggest difference between the Nolan Ryan of 15-20 years ago and the Nolan Ryan of today.
Check my minor-league stats and you'll see I was either striking everyone out or walking them. I had the kind of velocity -- 98 mph with regularity -- that allowed me the luxury of not being so fine with my control. Well, those days couldn't last forever. I now throw 93, 94 mph -- still fast, but not overpowering enough to base all my success on blowing guys away.
I worked long and hard to master the control of my breaking ball and change-up. As my confidence in those pitches improved, I was able to set hitters up, get ahead in the count, and apply strategy instead of sheer force.
Control of the curve and change-up transformed me from being only a fastball thrower to more of a tactical pitcher. I've heard some people say that going to the National League made me a complete pitcher because I couldn't just rely on my fastball. Well, nothing happened in my head to make the change -- that's just a bunch of hogwash. Ten years after I came back to the National League, I'm still getting hitters out with my fastball. If you fall behind in the count you still have to throw your best pitch -- and for me that's the fastball.
It requires incredible concentration to get the location I want on every fastball. I can't let up -- even for a second. Mental discipline and intense focus on what you're doing begins early in a pitcher's day. Before each start I sit in the clubhouse and analyze the other team's hitters. I concentrate on visualizing what I've done in the past to get a hitter out, consider his strengths and weaknesses. I just sort of run through the lineup in my mind; it's a pre-game ritual that reinforces the fact that I'm mentally prepared to pitch effectively.
Once the game gets going, though, all that planning is subject to change. Maybe I can't throw the breaking ball for strikes. Some days it's not going to break as much as I'd expected. Well, I simply have to adjust by throwing more fastballs and change-ups. This is where a lot of young pitchers run into trouble -- they're unable to adjust and end up losing their concentration as soon as things take a turn for the worse.
I don't use any particular gimmicks or fancy techniques to enhance my concentration. I just block things out, focusing completely on the task of retiring the hitter. Maintaining concentration depends on what I call tunnel vision; nothing else in the world exists but the catcher's target, the hitter, and my perfect delivery. This is a space where I feel comfortable and relaxed. I don't get distracted by all the external stuff going on around me.
The ability to block things out is something you develop through experience. Young pitchers have a tendency to lose their composure on the mound, falling prey to negative thoughts. Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman were notable exceptions; they were both blessed with incredible mental discipline. The entire Mets' staff, in fact, was remarkable for its mental maturity.
Unfortunately, some pitchers are unable to learn how to concentrate and focus properly. I've played with very talented athletes who never appreciated how important the mental side of baseball is to success; not surprisingly, most of them didn't last too long, even though they had enough talent to win ball games.
You can't have a long, successful career without a positive attitude. I believe that an I-can-do-this mentality is a pitcher's best friend. You must have confidence in your stuff. That confidence translates into an aggressive -- not arrogant -- posture on the mound. (Blatant arrogance, such as staring a guy down, is unprofessional and makes the hitter even more determined to beat you at your own game.) A pitcher lacking in self-confidence, however, can't be aggressive, and that timidity will betray you every time.
It's easy to identify pitchers who are afraid of getting hit hard; they lose confidence in their fastball so they won't throw it for strikes, they nibble and get behind in the count. What these pitchers don't realize is that they're beating themselves. Trying to be too fine, they lose their edge and are forced to pitch defensively. A pitcher with the count in his favor has the advantage. Once you get ahead on the hitter, then you've got all your options and you can throw your best stuff. If you make a bad pitch in that spot you've got no one but yourself to blame.
Throwing inside to a hitter is at the heart of aggressive pitching. You can't let the fear of hitting -- or hurting -- the hitter deter you from coming in with a fastball. Of course, it's essential to have confidence in your control and in your ability to throw inside. But don't let your concern over hitting somebody and putting him on base take away from your aggressiveness. If you teach a hitter that you'll throw inside -- if he knows that -- then his whole approach to facing you is quite different.
A lot of young pitchers in the big leagues right now are afraid to throw inside. This fear invites a hitter to dig in and dominate the outer part of the plate. The decline of the inside pitch can be traced to two factors: a lack of instruction at the minor-league level, and the recent rule changes discouraging guys from coming in too often -- umpire warnings, for instance, that lead to pitchers getting kicked out of the game. Umpires should have the power to prevent beanball wars, ugly incidents where players get hurt and things get out of hand. But I've also seen umpires warn pitchers in cases that didn't warrant it, where a strategic inside pitch got away from someone who wasn't trying to hit anybody.
Pitching inside was a fact of life in the 1960s. You had to demonstrate early in the game that you were more than happy to pitch in to a hitter to keep him honest. In an 0-2 situation it was taken for granted that you'd come in on a hitter to make your pitches away more effective.
Young pitchers have to realize that it's okay to claim the inside part of the plate as their own. It's especially important these days, what with hitters having the advantage of using aluminum bats at the college level. Those aluminum bats make a pitcher's life even harder. For one thing, a guy can fist out a hit without making solid contact; a broken-bat foul ball with wood is often a single with aluminum. But you still have to establish that you're not afraid to pitch inside. You can't afford to let a hitter develop a comfort zone. If he knows you won't throw in, then he'll dive out over the plate. You have to put the thought in his mind that you're willing to pitch in -- always keep the hitter guessing. Never show your hand. I talked to my son Reid, a freshman at the University of Texas, about pitching in and I explained to him that discretion is the key to this technique: If you throw a fastball inside, you're occasionally going to hit a batter. Well, you certainly don't want to nail a guy with men on base when you could lose a ball game because of it. So, in a do-or-die situation, always consider how good your control is before throwing inside to a hitter.
Control determines your effectiveness -- whether you're pitching inside or outside. It's really a double-edged sword. When you pitch inside and your location is off, well, two things can happen: either you hit the guy (missing inside) or throw the ball right over the heart of the plate (missing outside). But you run the same risk pitching to the outer half of the plate -- too far out and it's a wild pitch; too far in and the hitter gets a good pitch to drive.
If you do have enough control to throw to both sides of the plate, though, pitching inside will increase the effectiveness of your outside pitches and give you more of the outer part of the strike zone to work with. You don't want a hitter leaning over the plate, anticipating that you're going to throw the ball where he wants it.
Of course, some hitters don't like the outside pitch. This is especially true of righthanded hitters who have short arms and a compact swing. But tall righthanders prefer the ball out over the plate -- they just extend their arms to make contact. And lefthanders look for the ball over the middle, generally down and in. All hitters have their distinct strengths and weaknesses. You can't generalize about a hitter's favorite pitch -- just believe in your ability to get the guy with your best stuff. Don't compromise. It's your move; you have to be the aggressor or you'll lose that mental edge.
Getting ahead in the count is the key to being a winning pitcher. If you can throw strikes right from the get-go, then it makes your job so much easier. Most hitters lose confidence and alter their style in a 1-2 or 0-2 situation. (Wade Boggs is the exception; he'd rather hit with two strikes because it helps him to concentrate, and Wade says he has a better grasp of the strike zone with an 0-2 count. But guys like Boggs are few and far between.)
I like to get ahead of a hitter by starting him off away, especially if it's the first time I've faced him in that particular game. My theory is that you pitch in when you're ahead in the count, and pitch outside when you're behind. Say I have a 2-1 count on Dave Winfield. In that spot Dave is going to look for a ball to pull, something he can drive into the gap in left-center or smack over the fence. So I'll throw the pitch -- whether it's a fastball or curve -- on the outside of the plate to neutralize his power. If I'm ahead 1-2, though, he'll just want to protect the plate and be m...
