What Mound Visits Taught Me About Leadership

Imagine you are the Chairman of the Board of a publicly traded company, and you call a meeting of the company leadership team.

The purpose of the meeting could be in response to good news, bad news or no news at all.

The meeting is held in an arena where you are surrounded by shareholders who voice their opinions and make other distracting comments as you are making points to the team.

In the crowd are also shareholders of a competing company who are either celebrating your bad situation or doing their best to distract you from whatever you are needing to communicate.

Everyone is trying to read both the lips and body language of all participants.

How is the leadership team responding to whatever instruction or criticism you may be offering? Will changes be made? Is anyone being fired or demoted? Do they look embarrassed or inspired?

Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? It happens in virtually every baseball game!

It’s called a “mound visit”. A meeting called during an inning by the Pitching Coach or the Head Coach with at a minimum the pitcher but usually includes the catcher and often the entire infield.

The meeting is held on top of a hill in the middle of the field in full view of the fans of both teams. Much like the fictitious corporate meeting described above.

Is there any other sport in which such a meeting takes place?

For many who have been in baseball for years, mound visits tend to be taken for granted. A count is kept because there are rules regarding the number and frequency during a game and/or a single inning.

But what takes place or why the visit is taken tends to be learned by experience. Coaching clinics covering the topic of mound visits are non-existent.

Does that imply that Mound Visits are inconsequential with little impact on the outcome of the game?

Purposes of mound visits generally fall into 4 categories.

One purpose might be to break the rhythm of the game giving the pitcher the opportunity to reset mentally or to rest physically. And to force the hitter to wait.

Another purpose could be to discuss the strategy of attack by the pitcher or the defensive strategy with all in the infield. Making sure everyone is on the same page in the event of a bunt, a 1st & 3rd steal, or a 1st & 2nd steal. Mound meetings primarily for these purposes are pretty straightforward with limited unintended consequences.

But there are two other purposes that are less strategic and offer the potential for consequences that were not intended.

One is the visit to “challenge” the pitcher. To motivate him to go beyond what his performance and/or body language suggests he believes is possible.

And the other is the visit to remove the pitcher from the game.

Purpose often dictates who takes the trip. Traditionally, the Pitching Coach takes all visits except the one in which the Pitcher is to be removed.

Removing the Pitcher has long been the role of the Head Coach or the Manager in professional baseball.

In recent years at the college level there have been alternatives to that approach.

One is the Head Coach takes all trips in which the Pitcher is not to be removed. Then the Pitching Coach only makes the visits involving Pitching Changes giving him the opportunity to discuss signs, strategy, etc. Opposite of the traditional approach.

A second alternative is that the Pitching Coach makes all visits regardless of purpose.

Does it matter to the Pitcher who makes the Mound Visit? Head Coach or Pitching Coach?

Pitchers usually have the best relationship with their Pitching Coach. He has “coached” the pitcher and very likely has had hard conversations with him prior. They’ve been in the trenches together. By virtue of the time and energy invested, the Pitching Coach has earned the latitude needed during a mound visit meant to “challenge”.

In other words, being “attacked” by the guy who’s been trying to help you is much different than being attacked by the guy who’s mainly been watching.

Does God care about Mound Visits?

I have made many Mound Visits both as the Head Coach and as the Pitching Coach. I have said and done things that upon reflection I remain pleased.

But I have also said and done things that, after reflecting, were born out of my pride or my anger.

We had a junior pitcher who had been highly recruited out of high school as well as being a high pick in the MLB draft as a senior.

His freshman year he pitched well; but over the course of the next two years started on a downward path. There were no injuries. Nothing that really explained the decline other than dealing with rising expectations that surrounded someone who had been a high draft out of HS and had performed well as a Freshman.

One could see his confidence was fragile and I never confronted him in the midst of his struggles.

After moving him to the bullpen with the hopes of rebuilding his confidence, I brought him into a game in which we were trailing late and at a place in the opposing lineup where I thought he should have success.

But the opposite happened. They hit everything he threw. As I went to the mound I was unsure whether to take him out or not. And after refraining for so long any comments that might hurt him or make the situation worse, on this trip I said these words, “You know, _____.

As I’ve been watching this inning, I’ve asked myself, “Are they really that good? Or are you just really that bad?”

He replied by saying, “I don’t know.” At that, I took him out of the game.

Later that evening he called me to meet him up at the Ballpark. I was afraid he was going to quit. But as we sat across from each other, he only asked one question. “Would you have said that to either of your sons?”

We both knew the answer to his question. He had watched as both of my boys who were Little League age at the time “lived” at the ballpark. He, along with all the players, treated my sons and the sons of our other coaches like little brothers. He knew how much I loved my boys.

He knew I would never have said that to either of them. I knew it, too.

God used him to chop down the pedestal of entitlement I had erected for myself.

On another occasion we were on the road in a series we were expected to win. The sophomore on the mound that day was very talented and eventually became a 3rd round pick in the MLB draft. But on this day, I didn’t think he was competing very well. So I took a trip to the mound.

Without offering him any suggestions, I simply got personal. I called him out. I told him what he looked like to me. I used a word I’d never used before. I spoke to him out of my own anger and frustration.

As I write, I have no recollection of how he responded. What I do recall is that he was on our pitching staff for 2 more years and in his final start in an NCAA Super Regional, he walked off the mound in the 9th to a standing ovation by the fans of the opposing team. An incredible show of respect! Something I’m sure neither he nor his parents would ever forget.

But the excitement and pride he felt that night turned to grief just a month later as his mom died very suddenly. Upon hearing that news, I immediately recalled that mound visit two years prior. How very insignificant that moment now seemed. And how small I now felt.

The easiest way to avoid unintended consequences during a Mound Visit is to keep your mouth shut.

While the Pitching Coach at Auburn, we lost our Sunday starter to injury. His replacement was a true Freshman. In his first two starts, the game dictated that I make a trip in the first inning of both of those games. Mostly trying to help him hit the reset button mentally and regain his focus.

In both of those games, he was able to settle down and eat up a few innings. In his third start, he once again required me to take a trip in the first inning. I was very frustrated, i.e. angry, at his inability to get through the first without me having to “prop him up.”

When I got to the mound, I stood there saying nothing. The catcher and infielders joined as I fixed my gaze at the bullpen where for the third straight start we had someone throwing in the first.

Everyone just stood silently until about the time the home plate umpire reached the mound to end the visit.

At that point, the pitcher broke the silence with, “Smitty, I really am competing! I really am.” I had not said anything. He knew why I was there and that it was on him to get it fixed.

I returned to the dugout. The reset button had been pushed without my saying a word. He got it fixed.

My favorite mound visit.

My most favorite mound visit, though, was in the SEC Tournament again while the Pitching Coach at Auburn. We had a hard-throwing, highly competitive freshman on the mound. It was about midway through the game with an out and a runner on 1B. Nothing out of the ordinary going on.

I asked for time and walked out to the mound. Upon arriving, our Pitcher stared at me like “What are you doing out here?” Looking at him, I said, “My mom is watching this game on TV and I knew it would make her feel good to see me. Go get ‘em.”

I walked back to the dugout and on his next pitch he got a ground ball double play. When he got to the dugout, I asked him if he remembered anything I had said. He replied, “You said something about your momma!” Good trip!

Does God care about baseball? Does God care about mound visits?

For that matter, does God care about the staff meetings you might lead?

My heart says He does. What does yours say?