How to Hit a Baseball

Hitting the Baseball

First, there is a lot of new research out on how our brains are engaged in learning and performing motor tasks, as opposed to intellectual tasks.  There is a great new book out by Jonathan Lehrer called How We Decide.  The book starts off with a very interesting first chapter called “The Quarterback in the Pocket.”  Among other things, he uses Tom Brady as an example and explains what is going on in the quarterback’s brain as he decides, after dropping back, whether a receiver is covered or not, and thus whether or not to throw the ball in that direction.  In a nutshell, it appears that these micro-decisions are made using the emotional systems in our brains – called the limbic system – and NOT with the cerebral, so-called higher-order processes of the brain with which we engage in intellectual thought and language processing. 

I once heard Vin Scully quote a ball player you may remember named Kent Hrbek.  Hrbek said “I like to go up to the plate with an empty brain and a full bat.”  From the research I’ve read, this is exactly correct.  If the hitter is engaging his language centers with such thoughts as “oh my goodness, I hope I don’t swing and miss, and I need to remember to keep my head down like my dad told me and to follow-through like Coach said…”  Well, by the time all this language is processed, the ball is in the catcher’s mitt.  It is the “flight-or-flight” mechanisms in the emotional centers that must do the work of seeing the ball and hitting the ball.  If  I am not very clear here, think Manny Ramirez… see the ball, hit the ball… with no apparent need for doing any actual  thinking.  J

So what does this mean for learning to hit a baseball?  Let me take you to another story, which began sadly as an adult man in his 20s struggled with constant epileptic seizures.  This occurred back in the 1950s, back when we really didn’t have much clue how the brain worked.  Identifying the locus of the seizures, doctors decided to remove a piece of the man’s brain called the hippocampus from both sides of his brain.  When he awoke from surgery, doctors felt a sense of success and optimism.  The patient could respond and talk, and the seizures were completely gone.  Unfortunately, the doctors soon learned the purpose of the now-removed hippocampi… the man had lost his ability to create new memories.  He could only remember things that happened in the last six or seven seconds.  He maintained all the memories he had created in the first twenty or so years of his life, but could make no new memories because the hippocampus is the bridge from experience to memory.  In some manner, the hippocampus “decides” what is worth remembering and passes these matters along to the cerebrum for storage. 

Now a somewhat happier aspect of this story is that while the man lived out his life in an institution, he maintained a pleasant manner and, fortunately for the psychologists who wanted to learn about the effects of his condition, he never got bored with their incessant questions and studies since, obviously, he was never aware just how long he had been sitting there conversing with the researcher.  And so, with time, psychologists learned a remarkable thing… While the man would always say at the beginning of any session that no, he had never seen the researcher before, or, for example, that he had never before seen juggling balls or tried to juggle…  with repeated trials he could indeed learn how to juggle quite skillfully.  That is, he demonstrated a strong ability to learn and improve day-to-day at motor tasks of this sort.  In a sense, someone who cannot remember doing things from moment to moment can still learn to do things quite well!  So we see that you don’t need to engage the cerebral language-centers to learn to perform a physical or motor task.

What does this mean for us?  That learning to hit a baseball is an entirely different process than, say studying for EOGs!  The kids will learn to hit by engaging the alternative path through the brain, the one by which we need no hippocampus… Engaging the language and intellectual centers is, well, pretty useless as far as learning to hit a fast-moving orb with a bat.  We do want our kids to go up to bat with empty heads, like Kent Hrbek and Manny Ramirez!  And the skill they need to perform is learned not through talking about it, but through lots and lots and lots of repetition.  They need to swing successfully at 1,000 balls this month, and I’d think by the time they get to high school, they’ll be natural “intuitive” hitters if they have hit 10,000 balls.

The number 10,000 is borrowed from a reading of Malcolm Gladwell’s great, and fairly recent book called Outliers. 

Gladwell claims that greatness requires enormous time, using the source of The Beatles' musical talents and Bill Gates' computer savvy as example. The Beatles performed live in Hamburg, Germany over 1,200 times from 1960 to 1964, amassing more than 10,000 hours of playing time, therefore meeting the 10,000-Hour Rule. Gladwell asserts that all of the time The Beatles spent performing shaped their talent, "so by the time they returned to England from Hamburg, Germany, 'they sounded like no one else. It was the making of them.'" Gates met the 10,000-Hour Rule when he gained access to a high school computer in 1968 at the age of 13, and spent 10,000 hours programming on it.  [this last paragraph snatched out of wikipedia]

Since we are talking about a micro-skill, I’m positing that 10,000 swings, rather than so many hours of practice, will have the boys in good shape as far as hitting the baseball.

So, my friends, please forgive me for this very long explanation.  I just wanted to reinforce the importance this 1,000 hit goal if your player wants some hits next year in middle school ball.

One last thing… You may wonder whether it is better to hit a 100 balls every other day or to hit 50 balls every day.  There is a lot of new research going on about what goes on in our brains during sleep.  And I read that remarkable things are happening as we slumber.  Neurons literally let go of some connections and reorganize themselves by making new connections to other neurons.  In the manner of a re-wiring, our brains reorganize to incorporate the new learning from the day we have just completed.  Regarding motor tasks, it appears that our brains use this time of rest and renewal to recalibrate the hand-eye coordination, leaving our hitter slightly more well-tuned to hit the ball after a cycle of hit, sleep, and hit again.  And if you agree with where I am going here, this means that it is better to get a little bit of work in every day, so that the hitter gets the benefit of multiple recalibrations.  So it is better, therefore, to get at least a little bit of hitting practice in every day.

A thing you might do about this is make sure your player has a few dozen baseballs and have him doing soft-toss drills as much as possible.

Submitted by Strategic Thinking

The Father's Song

Hello Readers...

If you recently requested the PPT version of the slides about teaching middle school history, I have uploaded it to Google Documents for you. Just go to your Gmail account and click on Documents at the top of the page.  Then click on the PPT doc you requested, and select "Download."  That should do it!

10 Ideas for Teaching History to Middle Schoolers

I am thinking about writing a history.  And I find myself wishing I'd learned more about history in my school days, so long ago.  With a middle schooler at home, I decided to search the internet for ideas about teaching middle school history.  I have friends who know far more about this than I do, but still, I had fun putting it together... The slides below summarize what I found.  For better readability, just click on the slide for an expanded version.

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Here's the link to Churchill's speech:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4BVzYGeF0M

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Here's the link to the opening scene of Cold Mountain:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EyKOlx4-LDg

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If you would like the original PPT used here, just leave me a message and I'll be glad to email it to you.

Thanks for your interest!

The Return of the Milk Truck!

OK, readers of BooksIWillWrite... a new practice.... the site can also be used to announce businesses i will run... like the books though, don't hold your breath waiting to see these things really happen! but regardless, let's give it a go....

A Business I Will Run....
I will run a fleet of milk trucks, featuring real milkmen and milkwomen! Yes, the business hit the skids back in the 60s when it became evident that you just could not make a profit this way. But hey, things have changed! In the town where I live there are two neo-urban subdivisions -- each with a thousand housing units -- featuring old-fashioned row houses as well as large houses with similarly old-fashioned alleys running behind the homes, each with driveway access to the alley. This trend in housing means that middle to upper class homes can be accessed quickly from the rear-facing alleys, and making it cost effective for a milkman to make early morning delivery runs hitting scores of customers from 5am to 8am in the morning.

Now the key will be hiring some semi-retired folks who would love to get up in the morning and put a half day of work in five days a week... very early in the morning! These, of course, will be special people. I mean, hey, you wouldn't catch me up that early! But just look at the fun this fellow is having providing such a great service.

The target market will be women ages 25 to 50 who can afford to pay a little more for staples such as milk, yogurt and diapers, and who will appreciate making a few less trips to the grocery store each month. Yes, I expect to sell a lot of Huggies this way!

The second key to the business will be refurbishing a small fleet of old milk trucks, which were once manufactured by an American company called Divco, which has long been out of business. The trucks will be switched over to battery operation both to fit the company's image as a green and ecologically responsible company and to minimize noise from the truck that might wake up our esteemed customers.

We will deliver the milk in recyclable glass bottles, and will pick the used bottles up during delivery runs.

A problem that must be overcome is that most of the extant milk tricks look like this...

It would be nice if I had the slightest modicum of technical aptitude, so I could help out with refurbishment, which is a key to the success of the business. But surely there are some great milk truck refurbishers around!

Here is what I want the fleet to look like...

Why will customers flock to this new service? Convenience... savings in terms of grocery shopping trips and time... and most of all, nostalgia!

If you would like to invest in this business -- a sure fire money maker -- just let me know!

This is a book that really should be written. It is a true story that happened in 1903 and 1904. Three brothers, members of the Cherokee Nation, were the subject of a manhunt by 150 federal marshalls. One of the brothers was wanted by lawmen for allegedly killing another tribal member. He was probably innocent of the charge, but the brothers did not trust the white lawmen who sought his arrest. Telling the story would provide an opportunity to describe the effects of the "allotment" of tribal lands that took place in this period. Not understanding (or not caring about) the importance of communal land to the native people, the federal government carved up the Cherokee lands in northeastern Oklahoma and "allotted" a portion to each tribal member. Doing so led to resistance by Cherokees who clung to their traditional ways and values. It is considered a dark period by native historians.

I think a book about this incident would be interesting because there are many dramatic elements to the story, including the chase of the brothers by the federal marshalls in a manner reminiscent of Butch and Sundance being chased by the posse, a closing shoot-out, and some elements of mystery, since it is possible that, in the end, the Wycliff brother who died was shot by the two other brothers in a disagreement over whether to surrender. There is also a story of a secret love between one of the brothers and a young white woman, whose parents kept the two apart.

I have started the "book" with the following text. I'd love to receive some feedback on my writing style, choice of words, and general approach to opening the story.

The Flight of the Wycliff Brothers

The Cherokee stomp dance begins late in the evening. At dusk, members of the seven clans gather around seven fires surrounding a larger fire in the center. The fires engage the spirits of the dancers throughout the night, until the dancers withdraw to their homes at dawn. The Cherokees arrive in families, carrying food for the evening and blankets on which to rest. The clans and social groupings are fluid, as adults visit and laugh with friends. Children dart about, their imaginations fueled by the interchanging light and shadow cast by the fire.

Eventually, a leader calls the tribe to the fire. Clusters of people approach from seven directions, and the crowd begins to move counter-clockwise around the focal blaze. Moving as one, the Cherokee women, known as the “shell-shakers,” begin to stomp. The women drive the stomp dance through the night. Wearing heavy leggings made of pebble-filled turtle shells, the women stomp around the fire in unison, providing a steady percussion with their rattling garments. Each song consisting of a different cadence and beat, the women provide a steady, consistent undertone to the dance, just as they provide a stable backdrop for everyday life in their villages. The men’s participation is more episodic, heroic even, reminiscent, perhaps, of the heroic deeds in hunt, games and war acted out for generations by the Cherokee men. The stomp dance began as a leader cries out with a verse “hey-ya-na-ha.” The men, in song, reply – “oh-wah-neh-yah.” Periodically, a dancer will punctuate this give and take with a shriek or yodel.

Near midnight on a Saturday in June of 1903, Redbird Smith -- leader of the Nighthawk band -- raised a lantern and called for the dance to begin. He spoke out loudly, with the same words his ancestors had used for generations, many years before the Cherokee people had been forced on a “trail of tears,” driven out of their eastern homelands into this area of northeastern Oklahoma. As the shell shakers and dancers approached the fire, the worries and burdens of this time and place – both critical to the future of this nation of people – receded from their minds, replaced by the spirit and meaning of the evening.

The location of the Cherokee stomp dance is carefully hidden not only from a dangerous white society but from a the disapproving Indian Baptists. In the seclusion of the grounds, Cherokees can remember and honor their traditional ways – and forget about the ever-enclosing white society. But on occasion, a problem imported long ago by the Europeans – alcohol – can infect the peace of the stomp dance. As a religious and spiritual tradition, the Cherokees have long prohibited any drinking at the stomp ground. When a drunken Indian stumbles into the festivities, leaders from the clans take care of their tribal brother peacefully but firmly, leading him away from the grounds, and often accompanying him all the way back to his home.

An incident at these grounds would stir the Cherokee Nation, draw the attention of the federal government and American public. On this warm evening, in this remote place near the Illinois River, near this well-hidden fire, began the flight of the Wycliffe brothers – Charles, John and Tom. Before the end of this trail of events, one of the Wycliffe brothers would lose his life. It began with a simpple misunderstanding...

Well after Redbird Smith began this night of dance, though, the peace of the evening was interrupted with violence. Walking directly into the circle of dancers, Stan Bearclaw spoke loudly, unintelligibly in his native Cherokee tongue. Struggling to maintain balance, he leaned against a few, shoved others who passed nearby. Seeing the disturbance, Charles Wycliffe, the oldest of the brothers, approached Bearlclaw from the rear.

Grabbing the man by the shoulders, Charles intended to guide him out of the immediate area before talking with him. Moreso than his borthers, Charles loved the traditional ways of his people. He looked forward to Saturday nights at the stomp grounds. And, more than most, he took offense at any disturbance of these Cherokee rituals. Resulting from his frustration, Charles grasp of his drunken acquaintance was firmer, more of a strike than he had intended.

Stan Bearclaw reacted immediately as if he had been attacked. Turning, he flailed violently at Charles. Charles backed away, to avoid a blow, then approached again, attempting to grab Bearclaw once again. Many people around them observed the incident, but did not immediately discern what was going on. As the situation clarified, onlookers saw Bearclaw pull a knife from his belt, and flail once more at Charles. As Charles reacted once more, he redirected Bearclaw’s up-to-down stabbing motion, and, with the hands of both men on the knife, momentum carried the weapon directly into Bearclaw’s gut. Suddenly, Bearclaw dropped to one knee. The wild, drunken countenance was gone instantly as he regarded the blood staining his shirt and spilling to the ground. Calming, he allowed Charles and others to attend to his wound. A deep cut, it seemed to have pierced his stomach muscles, but not to have disturbed vital organs. Some women dressed the wound. As others eventually led Bearclaw – able to walk on his own -- away from the grounds. Exhausted not by the night of dance but by the emotion of the incident, Charles sat on a stump until his brothers joined him on their own walk home.

I will write a book for people over 50 years of age (like me). Didn't you once imagine that as you entered your fifty and later years that you would be slowing down... mellowing out... looking for, I don't know... some rest?! Well let em tell you... When you reach fifty, it just accelerates. As you reach your second half of life you just want more. You want richer challenges... more meaningful experience... a greater sense of accomplishment.

More than that, you appreciate life so much more. You are ever more grateful for what you have. You want to love those you love more. You are more in love than ever.

Agatha Christie said, "I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming... suddenly you find - at the age of 50, say - that a whole new life has opened before you."

And better yet, you are still there in all your other ages. Those selves of yours are right there inside you!

Here is a little snippet about grasping and seizing the richness of life...