I found myself shifting to defense at several moments as I filmed my first videos for the SmallBallSuccess.com page on pitching. It had been explained to me just hours earlier that my hitting videos were pretty low-tech and soft-sell, without a hint of Billy Mays (or even Billy Graham). As the immortal Dr. House might say, “Well, duh!” Yes, we’re low-budget around here; and as far as designing sophisticated “quickies” for a generation of iPhone addicts whose thumbs can’t stay still, we’re also pretty low-skilled. Guilty as charged.
Everything on this site is intended for thoughtful students of the game in search of real solutions. I know our hitting advice can lead to good results. I’ve tested it myself. At 64 years old and with a touch of arthritis in one foot (not to mention a slow-healing sprain in the opposing knee), I’m not exactly the athletic equivalent of Deion Sanders; yet I can hit low liners pretty consistently off a machine that’s giving me about the same reaction time as if I were facing 90+ mph fastballs. (See the two hitting videos marked “demonstration”.) A young person who doesn’t have the physique to jack pitches over the fence could nevertheless be getting himself on base very reliably in front of those guys if he would take my advice. Games are won by runners crossing the plate: you get no extra points for batting yourself in.
Now, pitching is another kettle of fish. I don’t claim to know much of anything about pitching, and I say so in my first video on the subject. I tried to unpack that remark somewhat in the second video, and I’ll try again here. Pitching coaches can teach you the inside move and the slide step. They can (let us hope) teach you the change-up grip. They can advise you about how to pace yourself, and maybe about how not to get rattled when your fielders let you down. All good stuff. Some of them—the best—also know really helpful tips about how any pitcher may be effective while staying healthy. Paul Reddick’s simple “wall drill” works for everyone. When Jimmy Vilade used to coach at my university, he offered summer clinics that my son often attended—and I’ll always remember Jim’s urging his young understudies to “show the ball to the center fielder” as their front foot came forward in the delivery. I diagnosed a little problem in my own experiments the other day by recalling this tip.
Nevertheless, not even Paul Reddick or Jim Vilade knows what it’s like to be “serving a life sentence” in a short, broad body type. Pitching coaches (though not these two, as far as I know) will typically not even let a short guy on the mound, starting in lowest Little League. They have no advice for us; or, rather, their advice is to go somewhere else. I recollect a response that Paul wrote publicly to a father who inquired about his son’s maybe seeking more lethality from a lower arm angle: “That’s just a gimmick,” he said unencouragingly. Now, I do not recall if Reddick was specifically targeting the submarine pitch with this comment or all sidearming below the nine o’clock angle; but gimmicks, you know, can get people out, especially in a short reliever. My old pitching machine makes me swear like a sailor when it decides to chew on the ball a while after giving the green light for imminent release. This is none other than the “Cueto technique” of varying release time. Don Larsen was using it when he pitched his World Series perfect game entirely without a wind-up. For crying out loud… all of this is “gimmickry”!
My son set a season record for appearances at his competitive D2 institution by throwing somewhere between sidearm and submarine. Granted, he got great movement on the ball—but the odd release angle itself must have diminished the hitter’s reaction time. Through my own trial-and-error methods, I have found that the “8:30” slot actually permits my ancient body to throw with maximal speed and accuracy; and if my increase in velocity only nudges me up from 52 to 60 mph, the same proportion would bring your 70 close to 80.
Can I guarantee that? Of course not! Furthermore, “I know nothing about pitching”—meaning that I really don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to do things that might strain tendons and ligaments in ways of which I’m unaware. I can only tell you that a) I have a low-stature body type, b) I can throw most effectively at 8:30, and c) I haven’t yet run into any nagging arm or back pain at all because of this delivery. Could my “nothing” be more than some professional pitching coaches know? Well, if they’re telling you just to give it up… aren’t they really telling you, in “always preserve the illusion of omniscience” coach-speak, that they don’t know how to work with someone like you? ~ JRH