Artice and Video on espnWI plant my right foot firmly inside the batter's box. A moment later, my eyes glance up toward the white letters on my DeMarini bat. I take in a quiet moment with my inanimate comrade just before chaos is about to ensue. I inhale slowly to give myself a visceral reminder to breathe. Then, a deep, exaggerated exhale leaves my mouth and allows me to feel the air passing in and out of my body. My left foot then finds a temporary place even with my right, as a steady waggle of my 33-inch weapon begins. Once, twice, three times, for good measure. My weight shifts in a slow, swaying motion onto my right leg, and at last, I'm more equipped for battle than I was 30 seconds before. Or so I tell myself.
Repeat this sequence after each and every pitch I see during an at-bat and multiply it by more than 150 trips to the plate in a season, and you'll find that I spend an inordinate amount of time participating in rituals on the softball diamond.
I think we softball players all do, though. But, if you ask most of us, our seemingly senseless and even at times ridiculous-looking rituals are arguably just as crucial to our on-field successes as the extra swings we take and pregame warm-ups we endure.
To an outsider with a limited understanding of the ins and outs of our game, our ritualistic actions could very well be mistaken for lunacy. For instance, when someone spots our center fielder Sydney completing a set of 10 push-ups just before the umpire signals for a game to begin, he or she could wonder why such non-softball-related physical activity is occurring at that time.
Or, when our pitcher Michele refuses to use any other game ball than the one that our assistant coach Reese hands her during her pregame warm-ups, one might find that a bit strange.
Or, when our head coach, Bridget, comes into the dugout after a big offensive inning and credits our run production to her removal of an article of clothing prior to the inning, one could wonder what the logic is behind that.
But to us, it all makes perfect sense and requires no further explanation. Maybe it's the often-inexplicable nature of our sport that gives way to inexplicable actions by its participants. Or, maybe it actually is an indication of a form of craziness that is unique to ballplayers. Regardless of what it appears to be in theory, the results are ultimately the most important things in reality. So, who's to say there isn't a method to the madness if it leads one to a desired outcome?
Like a painter with his brush, a carpenter with his hammer and a writer with her words, our rituals become parts of our identities as softball players. They serve as extensions of ourselves and of the dedication we have to the tasks at hand. They are outward displays of the inner workings of our minds, which give meaning to things that would otherwise independently be meaningless.
And, in a sport that is arguably more mental than physical, keeping the mind/body connection at equilibrium is crucial for success, regardless of how nonsensical one's ways may appear on the surface.
So, what's a set of pregame push-ups and some quiet time with an inanimate object? After all, when your success rate is essentially guaranteed to be less than 50 percent, you will certainly take all the help you can get.
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