Later that evening, Danny and Alex were back at the ballpark. Danny was behind home plate. Alex was on the mound. He was holding a printout of an article Danny had found online.
“It’s called ‘the yips,’ huh?” said Alex. “That’s a weird name. It sounds like a disease.”
“I know,” said Danny. “But a whole bunch of guys have had them.”
Danny started listing players. “Chuck Knoblauch for the Yankees, Steve Sax for the L.A. Dodgers, and Rick Ankiel for the Cardinals,” he said. “The article says that some players get the yips because of an injury, a traumatic event, or because of personal stress.”
“Then there’s just one question,” said Alex. “Can you beat the yips?”
“I’m going to try my hardest,” said Danny. “Let’s go.”
“Okay,” said Alex. He looked at the article. “It says here you need to visualize yourself throwing the ball back to the mound before you throw it. Picture yourself making the perfect throw to your pitcher.”
“Right,” said Danny. “Put the paper down. Let’s try it.”
Alex grabbed a ball and got ready to throw it. “Picture yourself throwing now!” he yelled.
Danny took a deep breath and pictured himself making an easy toss back to Alex. He imagined his arm going back and then gently moving forward as he snapped his wrist and released the ball. It seemed so easy.
“Okay!” he shouted to Alex.
Alex threw him a pitch. Danny caught it and stood up for the throw. He reached back and tried to recreate the picture he had just seen in his mind. Finally, he let go of the ball. It missed Alex’s glove by six feet and rolled toward the infield.
“Shoot,” Danny muttered.
“It’s just one throw,” said Alex, running after the ball. “Let’s try it again.”
“It didn’t work,” Danny said. “Let’s try something else.”
Alex grabbed the article. “Another trick is to clear your mind,” he said. “Try not to think about the throw.”
“First it says to think about the throw,” said Danny. “Then it says to not think about it. Maybe this article is a waste of time.”
“I thought you said you wanted to beat the yips,” said Alex.
“I do,” said Danny. “Okay. I’ll clear my mind. But how?”
“You’re supposed to think of something completely different from baseball,” said Alex. “Like a sunny beach or your favorite food or a cute girl.” He looked at Danny. “You should think about Emily Akers from biology.”
“I’ll think about a hot fudge sundae,” said Danny.
“Whatever,” said Alex with a shrug. He tossed Danny the ball.
“Rich chocolate,” Danny whispered to himself. “Smooth ice cream. Peanuts.” He caught the ball. “And thick whipped cream.”
He moved the ball to his right hand and sent it back to Alex. The ball sailed three feet over Alex’s head.
“I told you to think about Emily,” said Alex, laughing.
Danny shook his head. “What’s next?” he asked. “I have to figure this out.”
“You need to have patience,” said Alex. “Give these cures some time.”
“I don’t have time. Our next game is tomorrow,” said Danny. “I need to get better. Now.”
Alex read more from the article. “Okay, listen to this one,” he said. “I think you’re going to like it. It doesn’t involve thinking or not thinking.”
“Sounds good so far,” said Danny.
“It says that before you throw the ball, you should smack it into your glove a couple of times,” Alex said.
“Why?” asked Danny.
“It’s supposed to make you focus on the smacking instead of the throwing,” said Alex.
“Okay, I’ll try it,” said Danny. “I like that one.”
Alex set himself on the mound as Danny went into his crouch. Alex leaned back and lobbed the ball to home.
Danny caught it, and then got to his feet. “Here goes,” he whispered.
SMACK! SMACK! He pounded the ball into his glove, and then tossed it back to Alex. The throw was perfect.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” shouted Alex.
“Yes!” said Danny. “It worked! Let’s try it again.”
Alex pitched several more strikes to Danny. Each time, Danny smacked the ball into his glove twice. Then he made a perfect throw back to the mound.
“You’re back!” shouted Alex.
“Finally!” Danny said. He smiled. He felt more relaxed than he had all season.
“Now feel my heater,” said Alex as he went into his windup.
“Bring it on!” yelled Danny.
Alex let go of the ball. It flew toward home plate and popped loudly into Danny’s glove. “Nice!” shouted Danny.
He stood up. He pounded the ball into his glove. Then he threw it back to Alex. To Danny’s horror, the ball sailed wildly into the outfield. He brought both hands to his head. “Not again!” he moaned.
Alex shook his head. “It looks like we need to find another cure,” he said. “Your yips are pretty bad.”