Mental Approach To Sport

The Mental Side of Sports: Learning to Compete Between the Ears

We spend an incredible amount of time developing the physical side of athletes.

We lift weights.

We sprint.

We throw.

We hit.

We work on mobility, movement, mechanics, nutrition and recovery.

But there is another part of athletic development that can have an enormous impact on performance:

What is happening between an athlete’s ears.

I originally wrote about this topic years ago, and while I still believe in many of the same concepts, I think my perspective on the mental side of sports has evolved.

The goal isn’t to somehow eliminate negative thoughts.

It isn’t to convince yourself that you’re going to succeed every time.

And it certainly isn’t to pretend failure doesn’t exist.

Sports don’t work that way.

You’re going to strike out.

You’re going to walk somebody.

You’re going to miss shots.

You’re going to make errors.

You’re going to have days when you simply aren’t very good.

The mental side of sports is largely about learning how to compete despite all of that.

Here are a few things I think can help.

1. Visualization

Visualization has been around sports forever, and there’s a reason for it.

Before an athlete performs a skill, he or she can mentally rehearse what successful execution looks and feels like.

A pitcher can visualize attacking the strike zone.

A hitter can visualize seeing the baseball well, making good swing decisions and executing a plan.

A basketball player can visualize stepping to the free-throw line in a pressure situation and going through the same routine they’ve practiced thousands of times.

But I think there is an important distinction here.

Visualization shouldn’t simply be:

“Picture yourself succeeding.”

Athletes should visualize executing.

Those aren’t necessarily the same thing.

You don’t control whether a line drive gets caught.

You don’t control whether an umpire calls a borderline pitch a strike.

You don’t control what your opponent does.

You do have considerably more control over your preparation, your approach, your decisions and your response.

Visualize those things.

And don’t be afraid to visualize adversity occasionally either.

See yourself getting punched in the mouth competitively and responding well.

Because sooner or later, that’s going to happen.

2. How Do You Carry Yourself?

Body language matters.

Not because standing tall magically makes you a better athlete, but because your physical response to adversity can become part of your routine.

Watch high-level athletes after something goes wrong.

The best competitors aren’t necessarily emotionless. Some are incredibly emotional.

But they tend to be very good at moving on.

Strikeout?

Put the helmet down. Grab your glove. Go play defense.

Bad pitch?

Get the baseball back. Take a breath. Make the next pitch.

Missed shot?

Run back and defend.

There’s a difference between having emotion and allowing the previous play to interfere with the next one.

That’s an important skill.

I’ve always liked this way of putting it:

Quiet confidence > loud arrogance.

Confidence doesn’t require constantly telling everyone how confident you are.

It shows up in how you respond when things aren’t going your way.

3. Be Careful How You Talk to Yourself

I used to be a big believer in traditional positive affirmations:

“I am a great hitter.”

“I am a great pitcher.”

I still think there can be value in positive self-talk, but I’ve changed how I think about it.

If you’re struggling and your internal dialogue is:

“I’m terrible.”

“I can’t hit.”

“I’m going to screw this up.”

You’re directing your attention toward things that aren’t helping you perform.

But I’m also not sure repeating “I’m the greatest hitter alive” 100 times fixes the problem.

I prefer self-talk that directs an athlete toward something useful.

See it.

Compete.

Attack the zone.

Win this pitch.

Breathe.

Next play.

Short. Simple. Actionable.

Your internal dialogue should help bring your attention back to the task in front of you.

Because that’s the only one you can do anything about.

4. Develop a Reset Button

This is one of my favorite mental-performance techniques because I used it myself as a player.

I had a tendency to get entirely too caught up in failure.

A strikeout, an error or a bad at-bat could stay with me considerably longer than it should have.

So I learned a simple trick.

I’d pick up a handful of dirt.

Whatever had just happened—the strikeout, error, frustration, anger—I’d mentally put it into that handful of dirt.

I’d squeeze the crap out of it.

Then I’d throw it away.

Gone.

It sounds almost ridiculously simple.

But that physical action represented something important:

That play is over.

You can’t go back and change it.

And continuing to compete against something that already happened only makes it more likely to affect what happens next.

Your reset doesn’t have to involve dirt.

It could be taking off and replacing your batting gloves.

Walking behind the mound.

Taking one deliberate breath.

Touching a spot on your uniform.

Whatever.

The specific routine doesn’t matter nearly as much as what it represents:

We’re done with that one. Now we’re competing again.

5. Find Something That Slows the Game Down

When athletes become overwhelmed, everything seems to speed up.

Breathing gets faster.

Attention starts bouncing everywhere.

The moment suddenly feels much bigger than it did five minutes ago.

One technique I’ve always liked is finding a visual focal point.

Before competition, identify something stationary in the environment.

Maybe it’s a corner of the scoreboard.

A foul pole.

A sign on the outfield wall.

A spot on the press box.

When things begin moving too quickly, find it.

Look at it.

Take a deliberate breath.

Then bring your attention back to what you’re supposed to be doing.

You’re essentially giving your brain somewhere simple to go for a moment before returning to competition.

Again, there’s nothing magical about the object.

It’s simply part of a routine designed to regain control of your attention.

The Bigger Picture

I think one of the mistakes we make when talking about the mental side of sports is treating mentally strong athletes as people who never experience fear, doubt, frustration or anxiety.

I don’t think that’s realistic.

Great competitors get nervous.

*TECHNICALLY, “nerves” are a natural method for preparing to do something important, we’ve just never been taught how to handle them. But that’s a WHOOOLE separate blog in itself. *

They get angry.

They lose confidence.

They have terrible games.

They fail in enormous moments.

The difference is often what happens next.

Can you recognize what’s happening?

Can you regain control of your attention?

Can you get yourself back into the present?

Can you compete on the next pitch, play or possession without continuing to fight the previous one?

That’s the mental game.

Not pretending failure isn’t going to happen.

Learning how to keep competing when it does.