Hank Gets the Yips

“Damn. What’s wrong with Hank?”

“He’s got the yips.”

“The whats?”

“The yips. You know, he’s off his game. His head hasn’t been on right for awhile.”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s mental. You know?”

“Yeah, sure, I guess so.”

“I mean, you saw how he couldn’t keep it in the box? I mean, he’s walking a guy an inning. We all know he’s too good to be doing shit like that, so what gives?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you. It’s classic yips. He’s a good pitcher, but since he’s been doing the same exact thing for so long without thinking, he forgot how to do it when he does think about it. You know?”

“Sure.”

“And it’s taking its toll on him. I mean, pitching used to be just like some sort of natural movement for him, like second nature, you know, like breathing or something.”

“C’mon, I don’t forget how to breathe when I think about breathing. I just don’t buy it.”

“You don’t buy it? Well then what’s your diagnosis, doc?”

“It’s not in his head. He’s not mental or nothing. It’s just his arm. Look, coach has him pitching too hard for too long, and his arm’s thrown out. That’s all there is to it. None of your New-Age bullshit.”

“The yips? They’re not New-Age bullshit. You ever heard of Gus McIntyre?”

“The center fielder for the Mets? Sure. What’s he got to do with it?”

“Well he wasn’t always a center fielder, you know. He was a pitcher for a few years, and a good one too. A real good one. I mean, lots of people thought he had the stuff to be a great, the next Cy Young or Sandy Koufax or something. I mean they thought he could’ve become a legend, a real legend.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but then, bam, he gets the yips. It was tragic. He was walking guy after guy, hit a bunch of ’em too. And all that promise? People thought it was gone for good and that Gus was gonna be put out to pasture at the end of the season.”

“So what happened?”

“Well the manager wanted him off the team, but the coach wasn’t so sure. He had a hunch the problem was in Mac’s head, not his arm. Said he’d seen it happen before. He told the manager if they tried Mac in a new position, they might just give him a new lease on life. Well the manager thought the coach was nuts, I mean, out of his mind, but the coach wouldn’t drop it. So one day the manager agreed, just to get the coach to shut his trap, Mac got moved to center field, and the rest is history.”

“Well, so what?”

“It means that it’s not New-Age bullshit. It really was in Mac’s head. So I mean it’s basically a scientific fact that the yips exist. No medicine’s gonna cure that.”

“Yeah, but nobody’s gonna move Hank to center field neither. It’s too late in the season for that.”

“I’m not saying that’s what we’ve gotta do.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is if the problem isn’t necessarily Hank’s arm, then the problem is Hank himself. It’s Hank brain that’s in the rut. I mean, you know how he can be sometimes.”

“Sure I do. An egghead.”

“I mean, have you seen what he does before practice? Because I have. He gets to the lockers an hour before everyone else, doesn’t get changed or nothing, and just sits on the floor, staring at the goddam wall. I mean he just sits there, doesn’t move, doesn’t talk, doesn’t pray, nothing. I mean, it’s bizarre. Who knows what the hell that’s all about?”

“Beats me.”

“Then, when the teams starts rolling in, he snaps out of it, gets changed, and goes to practice with the rest of us. And, it’s not like he’s crazy or something. I mean, he’s a cool guy. Everybody here loves him, and, boy, can he talk trash with the best of ‘em.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it.”

“You know, I asked him once, why all the sitting and staring?”

“What’d he say?”

“I’ll tell you. He says he’s meditating.”

“Meditating? Like the Buddha or something?”

“Yeah, I suppose so, like the Buddha or something.”

“Did he say why?”

“He said some nonsense. Something about centering or something. Talk about New-Age Bullshit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Centering? I didn’t ask. I’ve heard a lot of the pros do it, meditating I mean, and they really think it works. But if you ask me, I think it’s a lot of hocus.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and honestly, I think that’s what’s actually been throwing him off his game.”

“You think meditating is why he’s got the… what’d you call ’em again?”

“The yips?”

“Yeah, the yips.”

“I mean, I definitely think its part of it, but it’s not the whole thing, you know?”

“You lost me.”

“I mean, I guess it’s got something to do with it. But it’s not the meditating itself, it’s sort of more what the meditating represents. It’s the routine, you know? He is too stuck in his routine and it’s getting to him. His whole life is basically a routine now, and whenever something goes a little off the routine, he forgets how to do everything. He thinks as long as he’s got his routine, it’ll all work out for him.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“But the thing is, it won’t. It’s just like those guys who think something like wearing the same pair of socks to every game will make you win or, you know, tapping your glove seven times before you pitch will make it a strike. You know, like a superstition.”

“So you think he’s being superstitious and that’s putting him off his game?”

“I mean, not exactly, but I guess it’s kinda like that. He’s off his game because he’s off his game, pure and simple. That’s the thing about the yips. No one can explain where the yips come from. They just come outta nowhere. But he’s digging himself into a real hole when he tries to meditate or center or whatever himself out of them. He can meditate all he wants for the rest of his life — hell, he could even become the Buddha himself or something — but it’s not gonna get him nowhere. He’ll stay right where he is. Stuck smack in the middle of yips city.”

“So you’re saying he’s done for?”

“No, he’s not done for. Not necessarily. I mean, maybe Hank’ll just snap out of it one day, and I hope he does, or maybe coach needs to move him to center field for a little while, or something. I don’t know, I’m no Einstein. What I’m trying to say is nobody can think themselves out of a bum arm, and nobody can think themselves out the yips either, even though it’s all mental. The way things are is just the way things are, and no amount of thinking’s gonna change that. Anyway, I think Hank’s got the yips because he started thinking too much about what he’s doing. He’s stupid for that.”

“Are you mad at Hank then or something?”

“Not really.”

“Well you’re real worked up about him.”

“No, it’s not really about Hank at all. The yips just scare me, that’s all.”