If you've learned anything about me, you've probably gathered that I hate losing more than I love winning. After wins, I typically yuck it up with my players and their parents. I might talk to a player about something specific I saw or congratulate them for doing something great. We rarely have post-game talks after wins.
Losses are another story. There's typically a lengthy post-game talk. I still might pull a player to the side and discuss something. More importantly, I usually have some introspection by myself, away from the team and even away from the other coaches. Typically, I start out mad about how bad we hit, then I will cuss myself for base coaching errors, and then I will typically open up the GameChanger App, (you can follow us at AO1 14U) walk myself through the play by play and check the box score.
After a thorough review of this second loss of pool play, before the next game, we have a pre-game talk. First, we discuss why we aren't hitting. We can't win if we can't score and losing 3-2 or 2-0 isn't any different than losing 13-2 or 20-0 because we aren't hitting well enough to make a difference.
Then I bring something else up for discussion. We shouldn't be losing games with the defense we are putting on the field. From my perspective, it IS about our hitting performance, but it's also about how we are booting easy balls or making terrible routine flaws. More importantly, we are making these impossible plays on defense to keep us in the games and if we could just make the easy plays and put a few more balls into plays, we would win a lot more games.
I call it the razor's edge and this team rides it like no other.
Let me give an example. It's the last inning and we are tied with two outs. We need to get this last out so we can get back to bat. Batter lays down a bunt, Hay charges, scoops up the ball and fires it a mile over our first baseman's head. Next pitch, runner steals and Key comes up to throw and we get the out. Except the field umpire calls safe because he claims Lindsey dropped the ball, which she didn't. We appeal the call and don't get it. Next pitch, runner executes a delay steal since our pitcher wasn't watching. Key throws a rocket, Hay puts down the tag but the runner cleats the ball out. That's the third time we should have this player out and we should be hitting. If I was the catcher, I'd be losing my mind, first at my own team and second at the umpires.
The base runner is feeling her salt and decides that she's going to continue to mess with Key, our catcher. She dances off the bag the next pitch, just begging to get thrown at.
The base runner is feeling her salt and decides that she's going to continue to mess with Key, our catcher. She dances off the bag the next pitch, just begging to get thrown at.
She dances too far and Key throws her out at third.
Great play? Yea. We needed it.
Routine. At least for this catcher.
A few months ago, I am talking to a fellow coach and we are talking about pick off plays and what our catchers' throw-out percentage is against base stealers.
When I gave him my guesstimate of 80%, he laughed. His default response was "well, the base runners at our level are too good to get thrown out like that."
I didn't argue. I don't know what kind of talent he refers to. All I know is what I've seen. I've seen Key hold players at first and third an entire inning because coaches are terrified of what she is capable of doing and does on a weekly basis, or they wouldn't fear her.
Key, along with her pitcher and shortstop have consistently executed the old first-and-third baserunner steal pick off play to the point that it's become routine. It's so routine, we don't have a visit in the circle to talk about it. We don't even have a sign. If there's less than two outs, she's going to execute it and bait the runner at third to come home. If there's two outs, she's going to throw the runner out at second. I've seen them get both runners out at least three times. In terms of straight stealers being caught? It's gotta be around 90%. Teams don't even bother straight steals, anymore.
What I would give for people to have feared me as a player and keep them conservative. What I would give to have the talent to strike that kind of fear in other teams. I've been able to do neither in my life. I'd be insufferable if I had.
What I would give for people to have feared me as a player and keep them conservative. What I would give to have the talent to strike that kind of fear in other teams. I've been able to do neither in my life. I'd be insufferable if I had.
So as I sat and wondered how we were staying in games where we were being out-hit 7-2 or 10-5 or whatever, the same thing kept coming up. Other teams could not get free bases on us and when they tried, we got outs. That was all on Key. Key consistently makes these clutch, game robbing, desperation outs.....with the assistance of her teammates of course. We have girls who make circus plays all the time, my own daughter being responsible for a lot of them. None of them as asked to do it every game.
Without Lindsey at short catching those throw downs or Zay's rifle shot from right field, none of those outs happen. Still, catching the ball in that pressure cooker of a situation and catcher's gear is hard enough. Getting that tag down while blocking the plate and doing it consistently is something that few can do. In terms of a team, this team can do the impossible on the field, if they could just do the grind of routine fielding and hitting.
Without Lindsey at short catching those throw downs or Zay's rifle shot from right field, none of those outs happen. Still, catching the ball in that pressure cooker of a situation and catcher's gear is hard enough. Getting that tag down while blocking the plate and doing it consistently is something that few can do. In terms of a team, this team can do the impossible on the field, if they could just do the grind of routine fielding and hitting.
On the flip side, Key's hitting hasn't been where it needs to be and I've taken it personally that what she does great has nothing to do with me and what she's struggled with IS on me. I pitch to her in the cage enough to know what she's capable of doing to balls, but it hasn't translated to numbers during games. She's getting on base often enough, but she's done it by getting hit, by being walked, and beating out grounders to first.
More often than not, she's popped up to the infield, not from a lack of power but because she tries to do everything herself, which is the mindset of a great catcher. The other teammates and coaches see the helmet getting thrown, the bat tossed, the scowls, the bad side of her intensity. They don't see the other side of it. There has been nothing more heartbreaking than to be on the other end of the basepath from her as she's having a crying meltdown as she runs to first because she's under-performed again. As far as the team is concerned, Key is emotionless on the field. She's too big and tough to cry.
Everyone sees the toughness. Everyone sees the grit, ability, and the domination behind the plate. Everyone hears her yelling in the dugout. No one sees her other side. So, in last week's championship game when she absolutely unloaded on a pitch that hit halfway up the wall and never got above 10 feet, I got to see something else no one else saw: the relief in her eyes as she watched that ball soar.
Key is my Spirit Animal, my Power Creature. If I could be any player on our team, I would be Key.
She's fearless and relentless, aggressive, quick to forget mistakes but plays with a chip on her shoulder after them. She loves to prove doubters wrong, whether it's about her speed, or her arm, or playing through injuries or errors, she's going to prove you wrong. She wants you to know when you've messed with the wrong player, just as she did with that baserunner. When she doesn't do it, she goes on to the next play. But when she does, which is more often than not, there's no chest beating. It's a point to short. It's a fist to right. It's get back in her crouch and go to the next play. It's getting the catcher's gear off to hit and help her team.
Obviously, when we desperately need an out, she's one that we can count on to make that out, whether it's just holding on to a third strike, diving for that foul ball, blocking up the plate, or fielding a do-or-die throw from right field while blocking up the plate to save the winning run. And she did all of that just last tournament and she will do it again next tournament, over and over.
During our tryout last year, Key was the first player to greet me at tryouts and she did so with a hug. Now, I shy away from hugs and I don't like people in my bubble. I especially don't care for any of that to come from a 15 year old girl, especially one that's sweaty and stinky. So after she had jumped in my arms and hugged me, none of which I could stop since she is bigger and taller than me, she smiled as only Key could smile and said:
"Remember when I picked up with your team last year and you said you didn't like physical contact or hugs? I remembered!"
I was in no position to debate that, though I couldn't really remember her playing and I felt like I would remember her. So, I made an assumption that she must not have been good enough to remember if I couldn't recall a twin blonde braid, all smiles, biggest kid on the field with the biggest smile.
Almost a year later and I can't figure out why she's still playing for me when she could be playing for anyone else. For that, I certainly thank her and her parents for their trust in me, but coach Alex most importantly for recruiting her and getting her on the field with us.
I want to bring her out of her shell at the plate. I want her to swing at the first strike and do so without swinging out of her shoes. I want her to see her future and how bright it is, if she will embrace it. I have NO DOUBTS this kid can play college ball, if that's what she wants. She wants me to hug and dance, and wear a tu-tu during games. She wants me to be "extra" when I coach first and dance around. I try to meet her halfway.
Whether or not she knows it, she's a heart of the team(there are a couple of them) and while she doesn't QUITE embrace it, she's a natural born leader. She has all the qualities if she will just put it all together. She's who we send to the circle to calm our defense. She's who we turn to to get the dugout loud. She's who we will bunt when we need to move a runner, even though she's one of only three on the team capable of hitting a dinger. She's so close to being as good as player as she is a teammate. And what a teammate she is.
She's our Key to Victory.
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