Hitting Instruction - Part 1

Why Hitting Prospects Fail

By Rob Ellis, former MLB player, coach and minor league manager

This article will explain how a talented hitter fails in professional baseball, and why the system is inadequate to help him.

Joe Linedrive leads the SEC in home runs, RBI, and is second in batting average. Joe is a top draft choice. He signs a bonus contract. The club has indicated that he is their third baseman of the future.

Joe’s first year in pro ball is not a disappointment, but it isn’t all the club thought it would be. It was good enough to get his feet wet, good enough to build upon. His next season would be better.

Two months into the next season, Joe settles down in the .260 range. His college power is down as well. Strikeouts have become a problem. It’s too soon for “Wait until next season.” That phrase is already a year old.

Joe’s agent naturally counted on having a solid big league third baseman in his stable. He consults Joe to find out what is going on. Joe is vague. His agent asks about the hitting instructor since Joe is a priority. Joe says they are trying some things, but he’s a bit vague about that too. Joe has a hard time putting the remedies into words, something that shouldn’t be hard if he understands them. The agent wonders about the instruction he is getting. He can’t conceive that Joe is more or less on his own, not after a six figure bonus.

Joe’s season ends in mediocrity. Sure he hit 10 home runs, and he finished at .266, but those are hardly the numbers he is capable of compiling.

In the off-season, Joe has a long talk with his agent. His agent wants to know what can be done to realize his potential, particularly how he can hit more home runs. Joe isn’t sure. In fact, he can’t even state his hitting problems clearly, let alone solutions. What, asks his agent, has the hitting coach suggested? Joe explains in a couple buzz-word phrases. Asked to elaborate, Joe can’t. He can’t state problems, solution, goals, or even something to work on in the off-season. It is like he has gotten no instruction at all.

Joe has a universal hitting problem. His style began when his dad threw him underhand tosses when he was five. The ball came in like it was falling off the house roof. So he swung up to hit it. The first little league tosses came in the same way, and up he swung to hit them. The high school pitching straightened out a bit, but the featherweight metal bat was there to cover up the deficient, low-to-high, uphill swing plane he had grooved. And Joe was a man among boys; his strength made that metal bat hum. The combination of his strength and the featherweight bat even fooled the scouts into thinking he had bat speed that would convert to wood.

Then came the day Joe got wood in his hands. Gone was the huge metal-bat sweet spot. Gone was the featherweight bat that allowed him to get away with imprecise hitting mechanics. And now the fast, tough pitching.

The conclusion is simple: it happens to every player who grooved his hitting mechanics with a metal bat. Joe never converted from little boy, metal bat mechanics to professional, precision mechanics. The metal bat never let him learn to use his hands correctly or develop an effective swing plane.

The habits are grooved so deeply that Joe is clueless on how to get out of it. Joe’s hitting instructor, a man whose skill is in getting and keeping a professional hitting coach’s job, not teaching hitting, is as baffled as Joe. Joe is cut off from the correct mechanical solutions to his hitting problems.

The only solution Joe has is this: He must increase his strength exponentially to “muscle” the wooden bat as he did the aluminum bat. His first step? Find the lightest wooden bat he can until the over-the-counter steroids kick in. Joe is too young to think any more constructively than this.

Joe’s agent knows that continuing like he is, Joe will fail. The agent senses that Joe would be able to figure it out in time. After all, he has some ability. But his agent also knows that time is limited for minor league players who are not progressing.

Joe has all the signs of being on the conveyer belt that deposits talented but lost players into the trash can. And the hitting instructors can’t shut off the switch. Talking to Joe has made that clear.

The question is, what does Joe do? What does Joe’s agent, in charge of his professional well-being, do?

Joe is but one of many professional problem hitters: the can’t miss player who is missing, the draft pick who can’t break .200, the fringe major leaguer who can’t hit his way onto the 25-man roster, the promising five-tool player who is sputtering, the eight-year big leaguer who’s numbers have sunk to a vulnerable level.

All of these players have one thing in common. They have all gone through a major league organization which cannot help their hitting problems. They have gone through a system which bluffs its way through hitting instruction, never imparting anything solid. The hitting coaches are all great guys, they just don’t have anything to help a player. Essentially, the players are on their own, and their own way is not only limited, it isn’t working.

What do these hitters do? Where do they go when their own organizations can’t help them?

See Part 2