Visualization Practice

Tommy John is a funny animal in a lot of instances. For the most part, my experience over the last 8+ months has provided me with a lot of realizations. As my rehab continues to progress to greater physical lengths, I begin to understand the necessity of preparation much more than I did in the past. It takes a lot more for my body to get ready for the upcoming throwing session and then takes a lot more for me to overcome the exhaustion that ensues after each throwing session. This continual up and down of physical preparation and physical exhaustion is something that is somewhat manageable for me because it is something that I've become rather accustomed to in the past. Starting games at the collegiate level has a similar effect on my body...lots of preparation followed by lots of exhaustion. Then repeat. Today, however, I came across something different.

Today's protocol involved throwing 60 pitches, all four-seam fastballs, at 75% velocity. After completing those 60 throws, I was to throw 15 pitches in batting practice to my teammates. Upon first reading the instructions I was kind of puzzled as to what it specifically asked for pertaining to batting practice. I called down to the Andrews Institute and spoke to Jeremy Geus, Dr. Andrews' program director who I've been collaborating with. I asked him if this meant I should get on the mound and pitch to my teammates and he said no, they want me to throw actual batting practice like coaches do to their team. This confused me as well. I didn't really understand the point of standing 40 feet from the plate and cruising balls down the middle for my teammates to feast on after throwing a bullpen session...it just kind of seemed like a step down.

I went through the 60 pitches in somewhat of a breeze. I split the session up in four sets of 15 with a few minutes of rest in between. I worked inside and outside, up and down. My control wasn't ideal, but was certainly nothing to scoff at considering the stage of rehab. After my four sets I went into the clubhouse connected to our dugout and changed from my cleats into my sneakers. I waited a few minutes for the batting practice groups to change and then exchanged spots with our hitting coach, who was throwing to the team while I threw my bullpen.

I assumed my position on the rubber mat set up in front of the mound, probably about 40 feet from home plate. I reached down into the ball holder next to me and grabbed a few baseballs, and stepped back. I looked up at home plate and proceeded to watch as one of our senior outfielders dug into the box and got set in his stance, awaiting my throw.

Suddenly, the reasoning behind Dr. Andrews' orders set in. Home plate seemed microscopically small, and my teammate looked like Andre the Giant. I peered into the strike zone and tried to focus my attention, but I couldn't. It hit me quickly- I hadn't faced a real batter in almost a year.

Seeing a hitter standing in the batter's box in front of me threw me off the rhythm that I had started to become so accustomed with in the last few months of throwing. My last pitch in a game was April 22, 2011. That pitch was also the last baseball that I threw with a batter standing in front of me attempting to hit the balls I threw. And as I stood behind the L-screen this afternoon in the middle of my team's practice, I became thankful. I knew that the reason for the protocol being written the way it is was a simple reason- comfort.

I need to relearn what it is like to pitch to a batter. I need to relearn the visualization process of successfully hitting my spots while I have an opponent standing in front of me. And this afternoon, as I stood and threw my 15 batting practice pitches, I was thankful that Dr. Andrews was so thoughtful to make sure that the first time I saw a batter in front of me was in a meaningless batting practice session and not in a game-like situation.

So for now I will quit second-guessing what I read on the protocol. Dr. Andrews and the fine staff that he has at the Andrews Institute obviously know what they're doing and why they're doing it. I am just a pawn in a gigantic game of chess...and I'm more than OK with that. Anything to get my arm better.