I once walked five hitters in two-thirds of an inning in the major leagues.
Five.
In less than an inning, I went from feeling prepared to feeling exposed. I could feel it slipping. The timing. The rhythm. The command. The crowd didn’t need to say anything — I could hear it in my own head.
When I walked off the mound, I didn’t feel anger.
I felt embarrassment.
And embarrassment, if you sit with it long enough, is just another version of fear.
Not fear of the hitter.
Not fear of the next pitch.
Fear of what it means.
Fear of what people think.
Fear of what the organization thinks.
Fear of what your teammates think.
Fear that maybe they’re right.
That feeling is not unique to the big leagues.
It’s everywhere right now.
This happened on opening weekend in college baseball (go to the 9:33 mark):
And just days later, and Tennessee pitcher holds on to a baseball too long and throws it outside the lefty batter box for a wild pitch that wound up tying the game.
You don’t need commentary on the mechanics. You can see it, and you almost wish you didn’t.
The moment sped up.
And when the moment speeds up, the nervous system takes over.
