Thoughts. » thoughts

Energy Systems and Training Demands–What’s Missing in the Big Picture

Mackey — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 02:00:00 +0000

In light of Xi Xia’s article on the Huddle about the brevity of ultimate points and the ensuing discussion, I thought the topic bears some revisiting.

Re-framing of the energy demands of ultimate

Taking the average point (not play segment) duration rounded up to 40 seconds, and with a conservative estimate pegging every game at 15-15 for 30 points/game we get an estimated 40 sec/pt x 30 pt/game = 1200 seconds, or 20 minutes, of “active” play per game. And we’re not even factoring in stoppages or “standing time” for your pulls, stack-setting players or non-active handlers, etc.

20 minutes.

In a conservative estimate¹. Football seems to be in a similar timeframe for active play with all its stoppages…in terms of a single game’s demands, ultimate doesn’t strike one as particularly taxing endurance-wise, at a glance.

Set the notion of “taxing on endurance” aside for a minute. We have 20 minutes of action a game as a baseline figure. How spread out are those 20 minutes (In other words, what’s the work-to-rest ratio)?

You have to figure your typical ultimate tourney has rounds of at least an hour, some closer to 1:40-2:00 rounds. This pegs your work:rest ratio at anywhere between 1:3 and 1:6.

NOW, factor in that a given player likely only plays one way²–let’s assume again our 15-15 game, which presupposes even O/D loads (give or take a point depending on how the breaks lay at halftime). We can halve the effective workload, so now we’re talking about activity in the 1:6 to 1:12 work:rest range! You don’t have to be a sport physio to know that those kinds of rest intervals put activity squarely in the sprint/explosive range. Granted, it’s not just work:rest interval but the duration of effort that determines aerobic vs. anaerobic, but XX has established pretty well that typical play segment durations are not extending significantly beyond stressing your glycolytic (in other words, you’re still operating primarily in your anaerobic range).

All of this suggests that preparation should first and foremost be sprint work–exactly what XX advocates in the article.

But there’s more to it than just one game.

Parinella brings up a good point that we should perhaps be training for those points at the long end of the tail. Those can be more important than the quick, “easy” points–think of the morale swing that comes with winning/losing hell points³. The last thing you want is to lose for lack of conditioning on a drawn-out universe point.

More relevant in my mind, though, is the issue of ultimate as a Tournament. We almost never play just One Game of Ultimate–summer league, perhaps, but at any serious level of commitment you’ve got 3,4,5 games a day for 2-3 days (your extended 2-a-day Nationals formats are the exception, rather than the rule). That’s your 20 (10) minutes of action multiplied a few times and spread out. Regardless of how you’re training at home–whether it’s sprint-focused, or more aerobically inclined–you’re not putting your body under that kind of prolonged yet intermittent and intense demand, so your body invariably hates you by the time you’re piling in cars and vans Sunday afternoon (if not on Saturday night at the hotel).

The issue I’ve always had with training for tournaments revolves around this dichotomy between the intensity of a game–start, stop, change direction, sprint, break–and the extended timeframe of it all. Sure, you can get up for a single game, but can you get up for two? three? four? The third game the day after you’ve played four?

What impacts day-of performance?

For one, recovery.

While not directly relating to training itself, tournament nutrition is crucial for effective recovery of energy (primarily glycogen and electrolyte) stores over the course of a day and weekend. (To say nothing of pre-tournament nutrition). Even the best-conditioned athletes will run out of gas and cramp up if they don’t eat/hydrate properly.

For two, work capacity.

I refer you to Ross Enamait for a brief explanation and example workout⁴, but in short: work capacity is the ability to repeatedly perform at an intense (high) level. Sound familiar?

How do you train work capacity for ultimate? (Ross’ workouts are geared more toward the fighter’s short rounds–definitely some carryover there too). Seigs posed this question on his blog back when it still existed, and conventional wisdom seemed to be “play in more tournaments,” and let the principle of SAID (more here) take over, but I’m convinced there are better strategies than that, or at least alternatives.

I figure enough sufficiently strong training stresses in sequence–the equivalent of your football double sessions or the like–might do a good job of training work capacity; generally, I’m thinking in terms of stressors you can apply to ultimate athletes and then force them to perform at a high level in relatively short (but no too short) interval afterwards. For Dartmouth, where winter practice times tend to fall at late-night indoor locations or early-morning outdoor turf, perhaps having an intense track workout in the afternoon before an intense scrimmage/workout that evening, or a really hard conditioning session the evening before a morning hard scrimmage might do something to simulate that late-Sunday soreness that can be all too common–and, importantly, learn to work through it.

What are your thoughts? In college the two-a-day (two-a-<24 hour) seems to be fairly few and far between, but I'd love to hear your thoughts or experiences with that sort of thing, as well as any other thoughts on training/preparing to perform in the tournament setting.

¹ Admittedly for elite men’s play; I’d love to see somebody do similar analysis for other levels (bring a stopwatch to a tournament!) and compare–factoring in the fact that not all games make it to 15-15 and myriad other conditions (weather forcing a relatively less physically demanding zone, etc), I don’t know that 20 minutes is too far off base for other levels too.

² Yes, some players routinely play a larger percentage of points. However, even taking the baseline 1:3-1:6 figure you’re still getting enough recovery to sustain anaerobic activity.

³ There’s another topic worth exploring: how often does winning the hell point correspond with winning the game, or at least exceeding expectations? I’m thinking you take games and compare actual results to RRI predictions–of course, you’d need to time points and/or have some objective criterion to define a “hell point.” Time out use? Turnover count?

You could also frame it in terms of looking at “momentum”–does the hell point winner then go on to break the next point(s)? With relatively higher frequency than at other points in the game?

⁴ I highly recommend Infinite Intensity. Really sound advice and workout resources and ideas–it was the foundation which I built my original summer workout plan upon.

Related posts:

Structuring Your Own Training Program, Part 3

Throwing/Catching Thought: Grip Training (Types of Grip)

Mackey’s Summer Workout Plan: General Physical Preparedness (GPP)

Why Spirit And Competition Are Not Mutually Exclusive

Mackey — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 07:00:00 +0000

Spirit is an elusive concept.

Ask one player what it is, and the reply might be “knowing the rules and playing by them.”

Another might tell you it entails flair wearing, tournament parties, random hangouts with people you just met on the field earlier, and a general (and genuine) sense of hospitality and humor–in sum total, that which makes up the Ultimate Culture that draws so many and tranishes the sport in the eyes of school administrators and hippie-hating employers.

The notion of “Spirit” stirs up some controversy–RSD is filled with cries against so-called “Spirit Zealotry,” as though a desire for mutual respect and decency is the sole limiting factor to ultimate “making it big.” Perhaps they’re right.

What the hell should I care about my opponent for? If I play my ass off, and win, isn’t that enough? That douche might try and keep me down with hacks and calls, but if that’s what it comes to I’m not afraid to play that game too (or better yet, to empower a referee to control it for me). They’re just another stepping stone on my path to glory.

The simple truth, that ultimately (in my mind) outweighs that attitude? Nobody cares who wins.

Really. If I asked you who the UPA (pick your level/division) champions were 10 years ago would you remember? 5 years ago? Year before last? Maybe if it was YOUR team or your rival’s team, or maybe your truly exceptional performers, repeat champs and the like. But in the big picture, the result doesn’t count for all that much. There is no prize money or big contract. There are no physical incentives short of one line on the UPA site and a footnote in the ultimate history books–not even an ultimate media that will preserve the legends and remind us when we’ve forgotten. Glory goes quickly; fame is fleeting.

Where you end matters little. What’s truly of worth–what lasts, what you keep–is how you get there.

Ultimate is, at it’s best, one of the most athletically demanding in sport. Good ultimate players are some of THE best capital-A Athletes in sport. This game presents myriad challenges, both mental and physical, and is an optimal vehicle to test oneself. When your back is against the wall and all there is to push you is you–with your motivations and your insecurities, your strengths and weakness–what surfaces?

If you want to get to know a person, be their teammate. Even as your own resolve is tested, so is theirs, and the person that materializes through this is hard to hide. You’ll learn things about them they don’t even know about themselves.

If you want to learn to respect a person, be their opponent. How they–and you–deal with adversity on the field, two wills struggling against each other when the emotional stakes are high but the results are ultimately meaningless, reveals a lot about their character. If one gets worked up about a poor play or a single call, what of dealing with the challenges in life that really matter? If you can’t learn to work with an opponent to compromise, if you can’t bring yourself to back down or forgive, if you value a win in a meaningless game more than the people you’re playing against, what does that say about you?

Ultimate is, in many ways, a microcosm of our lives.

We can prepare for life’s challenges by dealing with smaller ones on the frisbee field. This is why you see a program like Ultimate Peace. This is the beauty and power of a team’s struggle, point after point, game after game, year after year. This is what creates the culture around our sport, what enables and sustains our community.

This is Spirit: to respect and be respected.

Through this shared experience, with this Spirit, we connect with one another; we learn and grow as people.

Meeting your emotions and mastering them when the stakes are high is a means (though there are others) to this end. The set of rules we play by–the fact that the onus is on us to respect and apply them–is a wonderful enabler of this process; it forces you to cooperate and work together, often with people you’ve never met before.

However, the rules, and self-officiation, are neither necessary nor sufficient for “Spirit.” And it’s not simply a switch that can be flipped, either; it’s not something that is decided by the presence (or lack) of an official.

It’s something you cultivate, and carry with you, on and off the field. Call me a spirit zealot if you will, but the reason people have such strong feelings about this “Spirit” thing is because it is what makes ultimate players great people.

Now, as seasons ratchet up and competition gets fierce…Struggle. Battle. Do your best–but recognize and respect the fact that your counterparts just 70 yards away are the same as you. Revel in the joy, the pain, the shared intensity of the moment, and thank your opponents for bringing out out the best in you.

Related posts:
Defensive Thought: Enter Their Spirit

"Know your rules, and shut your mouth"

Throwing Thought: Balance for Short and Long Throws

Mackey — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 03:07:00 +0000

I’ve written about the importance of balance before, but it’s a very broad concept, its applications diverse, and bears revisiting.

In the context of throwing, balance comes in to play a few ways–generally speaking, you want to keep your torso balanced by using your core. A good example of this is throwing with your non-pivot foot picked up off the ground. Can you still throw a forehand and backhand on target? How dependent are you on your legs for not just power, but the general trajectory of your throw? Can you balance without your legs? Work this from standing at first, and then mid-pivot–don’t wait for your foot to set down, but throw midway.

You should be able to make passes at 10 yards with touch, without using your legs. This is a pretty essential skill to grasp, as throwing without your legs leads to throwing with touch from any position your body is in. It will vastly improve your dumping efficiency (and resets are the most important thing in ultimate).

Balance comes in to play from your legs, too. One of the best nuggets of wisdom I received when working on my hucking (I was trying too hard, muscling up, and hooking my attempts to throw 60+ yards outside-in instead of the nice float I was looking for): “try to hold your body position at the end of your throwing motion.” I was stepping out to huck, but continuously moving through the whole step and throw–by forcing myself to wait at the end, to find balance in that final, extended position, my throws improved immediately.

Part of it was still that core balance to gain touch, but a lot of it was finding a balance point through my legs–a lunge position I could hold (incidentally, lunging is an underrated component of ultimate training–more on that later).

Find your balance points to master your throwing.

Related posts:
Throwing Thought: Balance

Balance Revisited: Throwing With Your Weight Set

Throwing Thought: The Hammer, or, Throwing to Space

Defensive Thought: Mind the Gap

Mackey — Mon, 23 Feb 2009 01:00:00 +0000

Man D is hard. There’s more than one way to dictate, and the utility of each depends on the situation and your opponent. A good defender needs to be conscious of when it is appropriate to use which kind of style–here, I’ve phrased it in terms of spacing (and I’ve mused on spacing a bit before), but there’s certainly a lot more depth to it.

My views on the utility of various spacings (please chime in with your own):

Playing close (>I’m talking one step away at most–more like a half-step or right up on your man):

Pros: you’re in a position to use your body to dictate your man in the direction you want him to go. By planting yourself so close, you block one immediate option–I can set up right behind you deep, for example, and in so doing prevent you from any quick continuation cuts running there–as soon as you turn to go I’m right there, and you have to go around or go the other way to get anything. In many ways, this simplifies your man’s initial set of options, making it a little easier to read and respond to the field situation.

Cons: close range is easy to deke. If you commit as a defender to taking away the one direction you’re bodying, you can do it, but more commonly a defender is also to pounce on a cut in the other direction, and a good cutter can use your acceleration against you with a one- or two-step cut there. Alternatively, the chop-step-at-you-go-the-other-way cut tends to get defenders in this position on their heels.

Be wary of biting too hard and really hold your ground here–the real trick to success at this distance is learning when to gear up for the D going the other way and when to hold your position and keep dictating instead. Incidentally, this is the sort of man D I think you see a lot of high-level teams preach–good, intense body D.

Playing mid-range (2-3 steps off):

Pros: you put yourself in a position to easily respond to motion in your direction. If your woman is faster than you, the extra time to respond can be key in shutting her down in at least one direction. This also puts you in a good position, relatively speaking, to clog the lane/be in a position to help on D. If a team has no breakside flow and a suspect deep game, playing mid-range on the open-side in is a sure way to force your opponent to work hard to move the disc. Generally speaking, playing at this distance makes you far less susceptible to getting juked and deked (but be wary of letting her get to close-range on you).

Cons: you put yourself at an immediate disadvantage in all directions other than the one you choose to take away. If a team uses the break side, you’re likely to only have a shot at setting a mark on the continue, or d’ing up longer, risker breaks. If a team can huck and you’re fronting by this margin (and have no deep help) you’ll want to be a good bit faster than your man to catch up to the long stuff.

This can work pretty well in the context of an intelligent team defense, especially if it uses switches with a last back to maintain pressure on both long and short throws. The main duty in ensuring a setup like that works, however, falls on the mark and handler D to keep the disc from moving to the break side.

It’s also worth noting that this style of D is probably your best bet in muddy/slippery conditions, as a smaller margin tends to force quick responses and slips. In such conditions intelligence and good team D tends to win out over athleticism.

Playing long-range (more than 3ish steps off):

Pros: This is basically poaching range. Lending your presence to help your teammates–as deep help, looking for opportunities to poach the lane, or otherwise getting in the way of players that are making a play–can do a lot to frustrate an offense.

Cons: This is basically poaching range. If your man can actually do something, or you’re playing a team that has learned to recognize and exploit poaches, you’re more likely to wind up getting burned than rewarded for this kind of play. A single easy move to the break side of the field (or worse, a wide-open huck) can break down an entire defense, so be wary of how your opponent responds to you here.

This is really only advisable either when your opponent is so far out of the play as to be generally irrelevant to scoring, enough of a liability with the disc as to be a better potential D for your side, or when your opponent is so dominating in one way (generally deep) that you’re willing to completely concede anything else to stop it.

Incidentally, if you wind up at this range during a point chasing your man, it’s worth looking around to see if you can help elsewhere for a second, instead of blindly following (alternatively, beeline to where you can stop them next). Assessing where the real threats are and responding to them is the essence of good team D.

Short-mid range (~1-2 steps):

Pros: this is a range in which I’d say most high-level defenders stay, especially in horizontal/spread offenses where there’s less assurance of help and clearer indications of your woman’s priority. Generally speaking, you’re attempting to combine the capability to dictate with your body of short range with some of the cushion to respond of mid-range. All it takes is one step in your direction to turn this into short range, and within the span of that extra step you can generally shift to continue dictating in your preferred direction using your body as an obstacle. (be wary of fouling).

Cons: it’s very difficult to consistently play D at this range–you have a little more time to respond to your man, but as soon as this becomes a short-range situation you’re susceptible to the jukes and dekes (if you’re really on edge you’re susceptible to jukes and dekes before it even gets that close). Keeping this sort of margin is likely the most tiring way to play D, as you have to constantly adjust as your man moves.

For success here, it’s essential to a) know your goal, as far as where you want to dictate and b) be constantly moving under control, remaining conscious of your body position, so you can continue to work towards a). Typically this is a margin you take when you know your woman is a primary cut and she’s moving to set up, potentially relaxing into a larger margin when she’s out of harm’s way (or attempting to establish a more stagnant close-up body).

As a defender, you want to be capable of playing D at all of these ranges as the situation varies within a given point, between points, between games. Learn when you need to ratchet up the intensity, when you can back off to conserve, when you can look to help. Learn how your cutter responds to different spacing in different situations, and don’t let him get comfortable.

I know there are readers with more to say about this, so please leave comments!

Related posts:
Defensive Thought: Spacing

Defensive Thought: the Hips

Cutting Thought: A Mind for Adjustments

Stop Thinking

Mackey — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 01:00:00 +0000

Consistency.

You hear about it plenty with regards to ultimate, usually something like “if you can consistently complete a forehand/backhand to an open cutter, throwing ability will not keep you from playing elite-level ultimate.”

How do you get it? You know where I’m going because you’ve already read the title.

This is something I’ve mentioned offhandedly before–honing your skills to a point where they become unconscious–but this cannot be restated enough. It’s only when you get to a point where you don’t have to think about what you’re doing that you can really thrive. When throwing a forehand is as natural to you as walking (ok, perhaps nothing is quite THAT natural, but you get the idea*), you’re in a good place. How often do you stumble when you walk?

You really need to develop a mental state for performance. Part of that is avoiding distraction, and “distraction” includes what you do with your body. If you HAVE to think about your throwing technique while you’re doing it, can you really expect it to hold up under game-time pressure? If you need to think about your footwork mid-cut, are you really going as fast as you possibly could?

Levels of Competence

I believe it was in a book about Bruce Lee (if I had anyone who I’d say was a personal role model for me, he’d be the one) that I read the following about skills progression–specifically for martial arts, but the parallels with any physical activity are evident:

As a beginner, your instincts are bad, unwieldy, inefficient at best.

As an intermediate, your instincts are still bad, but you know what’s proper and can correct. (There are multiple intermediate stages, with “knowing you’re wrong” and “knowing what’s proper” and “being able to correct” each their own, discrete stage).

At an advanced level, you again return to your instinct, but the old, inefficient ones have been replaced with the precise and the honed**.

It was due to this belief that Lee’s original school of Jeet Kune Do‘s first and final ranks were both symbolized by an empty circle (your intermediate ranks were a progression of the yin-yang).

Many people reach a high level of intermediate proficiency–able to consciously will themselves to perfection of a sort–and get complacent, missing the pinnacle: true unconscious competence.

That’s where you want to get. Every time you step on the field, you want to operate unconsciously. You don’t want to have to think about your footwork. You don’t want to have to think about your grip. Your thoughts and energies should be focused purely on recognizing your situations and responding appropriately–no logistics of how to get there, merely intended destinations. Many a D set has been thrown that succeeds simply by taking players out of their unconscious selves and forcing them to think. Don’t help out your opponent by doing it to yourself unprompted!

Developing Unconscious Competence

How do you develop this kind of unconscious competence? Well, it ain’t easy, but there is some transferal between tasks (usually you regard it as “talent” or something similar when a player seems “naturally good;” natural is a good word indeed, for these individuals are almost always allowing their body to take over, getting out of their own way–and I can guarantee you they went through the process of learning to let go at some point. Whether they realize it or not). Again, I’ll mention driving (esp. stick) as a nice example of an opportunity to learn to let go. I’m currently learning how to play guitar–instruments are another great analog.

Relevant reading: SciAm Mind’s*** latest on How to Avoid Choking Under Pressure, page 2:

“Let’s say you’re trying to play the piano. If you were relying on your motor memory”—just letting it fly—“your motor command would automatically read out the next note in about 50 milliseconds.” But consciously monitoring your performance brings this superfast sequence of motor commands to a screeching halt, resulting in a choking incident of epic proportions. “The feedback from the first note takes 100 milliseconds just to move from your cochlea up to your brain. So if you’re saying to yourself, ‘Okay, I just finished the C, now I have to go on to the D,’ you’re going to have problems.”

This sums it up perfectly. In order to become a good musician, athlete, public speaker, you have to learn to let go, to let your body simply DO. You have to hone your body’s skills to a point where you can let go with confidence.

If you can develop a regimen or strategy to learning this skill, you can continue to apply it elsewhere, too.

Deliberate Practice

The foundational building block of all unconscious competence is deliberate practice. I don’t mean deliberate, as in, you have the intent to practice, but rather in the sense that you do everything you do with purpose. You should always be working towards a goal, honing a skill, refining, testing, repeating. repeating. You sure as hell can’t expect to make all your passes in a game if you can’t do it when you’re simply out tossing, right?

The deliberateness comes into play when you’re not content to just toss, but instead choose to toss with preconditions–you only throw from a full-extension pivot, you only throw after a fake, etc. And then, being deliberate at those things is another layer on top of that–is your full-extension as far as you can make it? Can you get to that point and also keep your balance, throw convincing, effective fakes, not pull a hamstring? When you throw fakes, are you working mechanically on the fake itself, or are you moving beyond that, visualizing a game situation and a covered defender (poor conditions, an aggresive mark) causing you to make that fake? Seeing the ensuing change in conditions that enable the one you do throw?

Visualization is the bridge between deliberate practice and effortless performance. You work on your throws deliberately, get the hang of throwing a forehand with touch…then, you stop thinking about how you’re throwing and instead start thinking about where you’re throwing. You picture a cutter. Does the throw still go where you want it, how you want it? What if you picture a mark up against you, defender tight your receiver’s hip? Can you place a pass where it won’t be D’d? If yes…can you do it again? And again? And again? Get to that point, and you might be ready for primetime.

Developing the mindset for mental toughness and applying it in-game is another component of being successful, particularly when the going gets tough, but you can go a long ways towards getting there if you can learn to simply

Stop.

Thinking.

It’s a long race when you’re chasing flow****. As they say in Japan, ganbatte.

*to be completely honest, your best comparisons for throwing a frisbee would be with other activities which involve a high degree of coordinated movement of the arms combined with stabilization through the core and a significant transfer of power from the lower limbs, as well as involving a dynamic component to projecting an implement–which make things like basketball shooting, baseball pitching/throwing, tennis ball hitting, or football throwing your truer comparisons. (Adding in the extra factor of a rotational component trims the list farther). Looking for some cross-disciplinary reading to do for ultimate? Look in that direction. Looking for some off season cross-training? You could do a lot worse than the same (I especially recommend a sport like squash, which incorporates a lot of the same sorts of lunging and one-handed motion that throwing does).

**this is otherwise known as the point in which you become a killing machine. Lee worried about some joker challenging him on the street (or one of the stunt men during a film shoot), because his instincts were honed such that in a real fight he might not be able to stop himself from, at the very least, seriously injuring his opponent.

***as I exclaimed to a friend on first discovery: “it’s like somebody made a magazine just for me!” I eat this stuff up. Highly recommended for anyone who cares to understand humanity better.

****fast forward to the last 5-8 minutes for the good stuff.

Related posts:
Throwing Thought: Throw Off-Handed

Catching Thought: Focus on the spin

Doing rather than thinking

Throwing Thought: The Torso

Mackey — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 04:30:00 +0000

Use it before, during, and after you throw. Build an awareness of it.

Torso includes, but is not limited to: your core and your shoulder. Optional: include the hips.

That is all.

Related posts:
Throwing Thought: Forehand Hucks (Response to Issue #10: "Throwing for Distance")

Throwing Thought: Load the scapula!

Throwing Thought: The Hammer, or, Throwing to Space

Coaching Thought: Vision

Mackey — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 02:18:00 +0000

This is certainly not unique to coaches, but perhaps the most important thing for any coach to determine is thus: What’s your vision? For the team, and for yourself.

There are myriad ways to go about developing this vision (and I’m sure that many people with the desire to coach already have some ideas), but I think that perhaps the best way to go about it (or at least the way I’d think of going about it) entails the same kind of goal-setting any committed athlete can and should do, though perhaps extended to a broader scale.

It starts with some end goal–as a coach, it may be best to keep this information close to the vest, as a personal desire that exceeds or under-reaches your athletes’ goals (for example, having a goal of making Nationals for a team that’s only made it to Sunday of regionals once) can psych players out if made explicit. Let the players set their own goals and find their own motivations (with or without guidance). But take the time and decide–what’s your definition of “success,” given this team and these players?

From there, (or perhaps before you get to determining an end goal–a realistic assessment can take time) you simply have to evaluate the process you desire. What kind of a role do you envision for yourself? What kind of role do you think is necessary for the team to achieve your (their) goals? If there’s a discrepancy between these two versions of you, some effort in fixing the imbalance there (or changing your perspective) is in order.

What sort of work is necessary for the team to succeed (again, “success” being relative to your goals)? This takes a lot of on-field evaluation, determining skill progressions and training necessities. A lack of experience can make this determination tough (as far as “what is sufficient” or “how much is too much”), but a rough idea is better than no idea.

Then comes the softer side. The nuts and bolts of a team’s success are the on-field skills and the off-field effort, but the grease in the gears is everything else about a team–how’s the social dynamic? What sort of team culture are you encouraging? What kind of feeling or impression do you (want to) leave your athletes with as a coach? How do you motivate when times get tough?

This is going purely off of my anecdotal experience in high school and before more than anything else, but the most effective coaches I’ve had had a clear vision and progression in place. They have a PLAN, and the nitty-gritty of a plan cannot fall into place cleanly unless you have a similarly clear vision to accompany it. That’s not to say the plan is rigid, unmalleable–rather, the plan is the framework from which everything else follows.

If I do wind up coaching eventually, you can be damn sure I’ll be spending a lot of time thinking and planning. Advisors and mentors don’t necessarily need to have a plan, but when you accept the responsibility of a coach I think you have to invest more fully than that.

Related posts:
Coaching Thought: How Much?

Defensive Thought: Peripheral Vision

Coaching

Coaching Thought: How Much?

Mackey — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 03:05:00 +0000

I think a fundamental question for any coach is simply, “how involved can (or should) I be?

Obviously this varies a bit with circumstance. But certainly you see this at all levels of sport–you have your more laissez-faire “player’s coaches” and your more authoritarian types as well.

Ultimate at a club and college level, at least, seems to lend itself more to the former, simply by virtue of the sport being largely opt-in and the fact that coaches are still relatively new at these levels. Team meeting frequency can be infrequent enough that an authoritarian approach is hard to establish and maintain. I’m pretty positive that this is not the case in high school, where I get the (anecdotal) impression that your Tiina Booths have a much larger degree of control.

I find myself by and large to be a hands-off sort, who thrives more on individual interaction with big-picture guidance than being a strict or micromanaging sort. I’ve been told by at least one person that I have the right sort of laid-back disposition to be a successful coach in women’s ultimate, but I don’t exactly have a ton of experience to corroborate that (and I fear most of the readers here are similarly lacking in experience on that side of the gender spectrum).

That said, what are your own experiences with different coaching styles? Dartmouth’s men has always sort of by necessity had a more hands-off coaching style simply because we’ve never had a coach in Hanover who can regularly make practices–sometimes we have a coach or two for a scrimmage or practice on weekends, and certainly at tournaments, but in many ways the tone is set by the captains rather than any coaches.

What kind of things do you find that you need as a player to thrive that you can get from your coaches (or captains)? What sorts of things really hinder your progress? Do you prefer being left to do your own thing, or do you need somebody to really push you?

Addendum: see a post from the ’06 UCPC on Nathan Wicks’ talk about coaching Brown in their glory days of the early ’00s for more fodder for thought on coaching. I’ll address it specifically at some point soon.

Related posts:
Coaching Thought: Vision

Coaching

Defensive Thought: Enter Their Spirit

Mackey — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 02:00:00 +0000

First, two comments, both related to Parinella’s latest post:
1) There will be at least three (3) ultimate bloggers at Kaimana, as I’m picking up with a Philly-based squad with Dusty, whom you might recognize. Really itching to get back on an ultimate field again, got to run and throw a little in the snow on a visit back to Dartmouth and it was blissful.

2) I’d just like to point out that I was talking about Hard vs. Efficient (in slightly different terms) a good while back.

Along those lines (particularly with regards to “efficient” D), a component of good defense that is rarely talked about, perhaps due in large part to a difficulty with putting it in words, is…well. For lack of a better way to put it, entering your (wo)man’s spirit.

What do I mean? I mean, if you understand your opponent, you can shut them down with ease. If you understand your opponent’s offensive schemes and structures, getting the turn becomes a matter of when, not if.

At a very basic level, you have to understand your quarry’s wants and desires, and to some extent, we all do. We understand that generally speaking, a cutter wants to cut in or deep on the open side, that a handler wants to make an easy pass to the break side but will take the open side cutter, etc etc etc. This dictates the way we teach and execute “normal” defense.

You have to move beyond that simple understanding, however, and learn more specifically if you’re to get the best of good teams. In a sport like (American) football, you call this good scouting, realizing that, for instance, a QB cannot complete passes with any regularity in the wind, and with pressure can be forced into myriad errors by a strong Eagles defense. (I’m not that heartbroken. But oh, Eli.)

In ultimate, this comes across more as “He loves the huck,” “All they want to do is chuck it to headband,” “Not a thrower,” and other simple but effective realizations.

This is useful information. When you recognize what a team’s offense and individuals want to do, at the very least you can force them to their second (less comfortable/consistent) option. That’s the first level. It’s something we attempted to institutionalize in part on Dartmouth last year with some success–dedicating minds on the sideline (more on sidelines at a later time–but know this: they are your best asset as a team) almost exclusively to “scouting” the other team, and we found a decent degree of success with it.

At a deeper level, though, what I mean is dynamically altering the defense you present such that it always aligns against your opponent’s desires. Recognizing that, while your man loves to cut deep, if you’re still with him after a few steps he will plant to come under, and adjusting your defense right as he gets to that point–temporarily conceding the deep you were just taking away, knowing that your opponent has shifted his attention elsewhere–you will be able to be everywhere he wants to be and a VERY frustrating defender.

In a larger sense, having a feel for where your teammates are and what your opponent’s offense is looking for allows you to do similar things–you can concede that deep option temporarily when the O is looking dump, or if you know that the first few stalls of each new possession are dedicated to stopping the continuation huck. That is part and parcel of good defense.

However, the epitome, in my mind at least, is integrating that information along with a reading of your opponent’s desires. If you recognize the lack of a viable deep option, you don’t respect the deep cut. When she realizes this, what will she do? You need to anticipate her looking to cut to the break side, or you need to anticipate her using the threat of the break side in your mind to try and get what she REALLY wants–the open side under.

The Sicilian reasoning game runs deep at times. Strive to always be a step ahead of your opponent mentally, and it will translate into similar margins on the field. At the very least, keep yourself from the blank, following mentality that all halfway decent cutters can exploit. Anyone can take away the first option–it’s recognizing how those options change as the disc and your man moves that allow you to move from a good defender to a stellar one.

Related posts:
Defensive Thought: Mind the Gap

Defensive Thought: Spacing

Defensive Thought: Outside Shoulder!

Defensive Thought: Peripheral Vision

Mackey — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 05:00:00 +0000

Good defense is a lot more than reacting to your opponent.

Body position, reading your opponent’s hips, staying on your toes, these are all important to enable good D, but perhaps the single most useful piece of information a defender can have is where the disc is and where it’s likely to go next (where the thrower is looking/capable of throwing to).

Shutting down that big deep cut is great, but if you knew in advance that the thrower was looking at the dump, or that the thrower was panicking with the disc in his hands, you can conserve your energy and let your opponent get deep on you a bit without consequence–and better yet, when he realizes his error, you’ll be in prime position to deny a cut that actually IS a threat.

It’s important to try and “check in” on the disc periodically as a defender–this is not hard if you’re covering a passive cutter, who neither engages you when she isn’t cutting nor looks to exploit your shift in attention, but good cutters will punish you for looking away, or simply give you no chance to take a breather and look in the first place.

Generally speaking, I try to balance the need to keep tabs on my man while simultaneously following the disc by using my peripheral vision, or in some cases, my hearing (the “clap” of a disc being caught is as good an indication as any that the disc has moved, not to mention the stall count).

In a situation where you are backing your man, it’s pretty easy to just glance past your opponent. But even when fronting you can position yourself in such a way as to track the disc and your man simultaneously. Fix you gaze halfway between your opponent and the disc. In a downfield situation, this might mean turning your head or body in a way you’re not used to doing (instead of “engaging” your man with your hips you take a slightly more open position). Hopefully the return of the crappy MS paint schematic helps clear it up a little bit–I’ve denoted the defender’s head position with a second line (defense in red, offense in blue).

The sort of position I’m talking about (on the right, compared to basic fronting on the left) is pretty clearly playing a different type of defense than manned-up body D, but it can be just as effective and potentially more so–it does, however, require a greater degree of awareness and proactivity to deny options rather than simply reacting.

My main point is thus: by fixing your gaze between your man and the disc, you keep any drastic change in either’s state in your attention register without too big a sacrifice in the quality of details you receive (assuming you know what details to key in on to play good defense). You won’t see where the thrower is looking, but you should get a sense of the mark’s positioning and if the thrower is pivoted over to look at the dump. You won’t necessarily see where your man is looking, but you’ll still notice his first step. And, you can incrementally shift your attention to one or the other by shifting your eyes much more easily and less obviously than if you turn your head from fronting your man.

Where this really shines, I think, is playing dump defense–being able to see when the throw is coming is a HUGE advantage for the receiver over the dump (when the defender is fronting), and often the defender has to choose between staying close to the target or knowing when the throw is coming. With practice, I’ve found a suitable balance between the two by leveraging my peripheral vision–it’s not 100% effective, you’ll necessarily shift your attention back to your man if he cuts very aggressively and forces you to change your head position, but it does prove useful.

Have you found other good ways to balance your man and the disc? Uses for peripheral vision above and beyond what I’ve described here? Tried it and didn’t like it? Leave some comments and let me know.

Related posts:
Defensive Thought: the Hips

Defensive Thought: Enter Their Spirit

Defensive Thought: Mind the Gap

Marking Thought: Stay Balanced

Mackey — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 05:00:00 +0000

I alluded to the importance of not reaching (by which I mean “over-extending.” Certainly you will use your hands and arms while marking) when I wrote about being mobile. The opposite of reaching is balance.

Balance originates from your core.

Balance means not overextending yourself (don’t get caught reaching!).

Balance means being poised to respond to anything the thrower will, well, throw at you. Don’t get lulled into a false sense of security–stay poised to deny the thrower’s options. (An awareness of where the threats are behind you–dump? streaking cutter deep?–help significantly to this end).

It’s a challenge to develop the mobility, and particularly the discipline to avoid reaching on the mark and to strive for balance. But really, how many point blocks have you seen come from a guy leaning over and reaching? How many pictures have you seen of a thrower breaking a mark who is practically falling over, she’s reaching so hard?

Of course, rules are made to be broken, and you’ll find that the big reach (the layout on the mark, the foot-block attempt) will occasionally work at causing a turn, if for no reason other than the sheer surprise of the thing. Sometimes David Ortiz can steal second because the catcher isn’t expecting the 230(+)-pound DH to be fleet enough to try in the first place. Doesn’t mean it should be your standard. Discipline yourself. Learn by the conventional wisdom so you can cast it aside in the instants where it is most effective.

More on mobility and balance on Thursday.

Related posts:
Marking Thought: Be Mobile

Marking Thought: The Hole-y Mark

Marking Thought: Spacing

Marking Thought: Spacing

Mackey — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 05:00:00 +0000

There’s a time and a place for near and far spacing.

Incidentally, the spacing and location of your mark can and should be changing over time. Jackson makes some good points about the utility of spacing between yourself and your mark, so start there:

Are you looking to prevent the break throw? If so, back up. You’re right that you can easily get your arm past a close mark, and by being farther away you’ll have more time to react to pivots, fakes and throws.
However, if you’re looking to put pressure on hucks, then get close. Yes, you might get broken sometimes, but if your defensive strategy is to pressure hucks, while still keeping substantial pressure on break throws, then I think close is the way to go.

Most throwers today will be able to break marks regardless of how you mark. I think that (in general) marking to prevent break-throws is a losing battle. The better approach is to realize that break throws will go off, but by pressuring them, you can increase the chance of a non-perfect throw going off, which gives the downfield defender a chance at a block. Similarly, if you are pressuring hucks, then defenders (who will inevitably be a step or two behind) will have a greater chance at blocking a non-perfect throw. A far mark puts very little pressure on hucks, which makes it very difficult for downfield defense against any team with good throwers

In short:

By increasing your spatial margin between thrower and mark, you increase your temporal margin to stop throws. With more space comes more time to react.

However, a tighter spatial margin allows you to apply pressure to a larger swath of the field behind the mark, if perhaps at greater risk of being broken.

I’m of the opinion that the best marks apply both techniques throughout the duration of a single mark. As I’ve already said, be active. Even if you’re bouncing around, if you’re not fundamentally altering your approach to marking dynamically, the thrower is sizing up how to beat what you’re showing him–you’re playing his game. Showing the thrower different looks through a point and through a stall count can force them to play your game, assuming you leverage your margin intelligently.

I’m also of the opinion that while trying to prevent ALL break throws can be a losing battle, intelligent use of the mark to take away the biggest threat dynamically as the count shifts can be extremely effective. Similar to how you might look to poach off of a cutter who is sitting pat in the stack without threatening to move, if the mark’s position allows breaks that the thrower isn’t currently looking for, you’ll be able to more effectively pressure the throws she is.

A very simple example of this is shifting the mark around to take away the dump at a high stall count. When it’s clear that the thrower only wants to hit the backfield for the dump, a mark can find success in conceding easier throws upfield in order to apply more pressure to the backfield option.

If you extend that approach to include not only dumps but hucks, inside vs. outside breaks (hint: it’s nearly impossible to throw an IO break past a mark that is a step off), even high vs. low throws, you can present a very dynamic and effective mark. If your entire defense (including your sidelines) is cued in to this as a defensive strategy, the potential applicability skyrockets as downfield can adjust to what the mark is dynamically taking away–if the mark shifts to protect the dump, the defender at the front of the stack can shade to take away the IO option, if pressuring hucks, defenders can front their men more confidently, etc.

This extends to more than simply how close or how far you are from your man (how you angle your mark and how aggressive you are are also key), but one of the easier ways to leverage the mark is by simply looking to take an extra step in or out on the mark as the count shifts–perhaps you stay tight on the first couple counts to pressure a huck in flow, and then back off a half-step to contain more conventional break/dump looks and avoid drawing a foul at a high count (I guarantee you your high-level club teams teach this very adjustment as a fact of life–or at least did before the advent of the disc space rule [XIV.B.3] as an additional deterrent). Maybe you start off with a loose mark trap on the sideline of a zone to prevent a quick swing back across the field, and inch in closer to pressure the over-the-top throw attempts after a few seconds.

Incidentally, Stephen Hubbard adds some great points about fouling in a comment on the last post, and also brings up the important question (among others): aren’t we just talking about fouling routinely on the close mark?

When I say “close mark” I absolutely DO NOT mean foul the thrower. If you’re capable of being mobile, you shouldn’t need to foul. If you have any kind of intelligent defense behind you, you shouldn’t need to foul. If you’re getting hosed by the other team making hucks in flow with no mark and feel the need to foul to stop it…try playing smarter defense and taking away those opportunities in the first place (or make adjustments downfield if you can’t). There’s a wealth of strategic options you can employ on the mark and in concert with the mark, and fouling is really never appropriate. Incidentially, I also find a mark that plays THAT close to be far less effective at stopping any throws (but I also didn’t practice it terribly much–there was a time when we had a “coach” for all of one tournament that encouraged more physical marking and it didn’t sit well with me then). Fouling might win you a few battles, but in the context of the larger war of the game, it is usually not sufficient (teams and players adjust).

Experiment with spacing. Think about what might serve you best in various field positions, stall counts, matchups, weather conditions, etc. If you’re a team strategist, consider the vast potential of a team-wide dynamic mark for shutting down a team’s preferred offensive options.

For bonus points, consider employing a marking tactic suggested by Ben Wiggins back in Winter ’06: stagger your feet one slightly forward, one slightly back) to facilitate better motion forwards and backwards, as well as to provide a bit more cushioning on a close mark to shield against the IO. This is hard to explain, and the UCPC site is apparently down now, so I can’t link any original materials either. I’ll try and flesh it out a bit more in a later post.

Related posts:
Marking Thought: The Hole-y Mark

Marking Thought: Be Mobile

Marking Thought: Stay Balanced

Marking Thought: Be Mobile

Mackey — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 05:00:00 +0000

I’ve touched upon this with my post about staying on your toes, but I didn’t really discuss how this applies to marking then.

The same basic idea applies though: when you’re shifting positions, in all likelihood you’re getting up onto your toes before you get off the ground, am I right?

A reminder: when I say “toes” I mean the balls of your feet, not the toes themselves. Common misconception that running on your ACTUAL toes works–you’ll wind up hurt and you’re hamstringing yourself, pun intended. It’s the balls–your heels might touch down slightly depending on how hard you’re running, but you’re never resting nor really pushing off your heels so long as you’re accelerating (stopping is a different story).

Take a second and visualize yourself on the mark. The thrower takes a big step to the backhand side, pretty clear windup, she puts her head down…

…and then throws a convincing fake before pivoting back over to the forehand side.

My question: how were you attempting to stop the huck? Is it a hand, an arm, your body that’s in the way? Yes yes, minutate will vary depending on situation and team defensive strategy. We’re talking generic you, no filters applied.

Are you standing still? Please tell me you’re not standing still. PLEASE tell me you’re not the person that makes me slap my forehead on the other side of the tourney complex standing there with a half squat, your butt stuck out, and your arms outstretched. Not to call out a whole demographic, but…rookie women’s ultimate players, I’m looking at you. Get on your toes!

Back to the throw. Are you reaching? Are you leaning? If you’re reaching, you’re toast. If I get a mark to reach on a fake like that I have a field day jacking it to the other half of the field.

Are you jumping over? If you’re jumping, you might be toast here too.

WHEN are you jumping over? If you’re waiting until her head is down and the throw is coming, you’re probably too late. You’ll be in time to force a bad throw, for certain, but to touch down quickly enough and with enough presence of mind to respond to the next throwing attempt?

Here’s what I think:

You move with the step. (Feel free to chime in if you feel differently).

Generally speaking, the only way a thrower is going to get the disc directly past you is if they can throw around you (they can throw through you if you’ve got holes in your mark, which is a topic for another post). The number one way to get around you is with use of the pivot (over-the-tops notwithstanding).

Great throwers don’t pivot needlessly, they just pivot when they know they’ve caught you over committed to the side you’re currently on and can freely pass the other way. You have to counter the motion of the thrower by being mobile yourself, and more often than not this means being proactive with your motion, rather than passively waiting for the thrower to exploit your vulnerabilities.

It’s a fine line to walk between being proactive, being overly aggressive (biting on a little pivot pump-fake makes the thrower’s job even easier than throwing off of one pivot), and getting beaten ’cause you’re too slow. Better still, this dynamic will shift depending on your tools and your thrower’s tools (more than anything short of perhaps the jump discs, size and reach disparities can make a big difference here). Your tall/long-armed wonders generally need to shift less than your shorter types, which tends to work out given that most of us littler guys tend to be a little lower to the ground and more responsive as a result.

Timing on when you move on the mark is crucial, but so is the margin by which you move when you choose to do so. How far over do you need to go to pressure the throw?

For big throw(er)s, you want to use your body to discourage the throw(insert caveat about situation and the consequences of over committing vs. allowing the big huck here). For most other situations, unless you have a clear read on your man or have the ape index advantage of an orangutan vs. a T-rex, I think you want to get your body to around the same alignment as your thrower’s hips. From there, your arms can cover at least enough to make an average thrower think twice (but don’t get caught reaching!).

Let’s look at the difference of this margin in crappy MS-paint schematic form:

This is more of what I’d recommend for a “normal” range of mobility. Blue player is obviously the thrower–I’m giving him something approximating normal pivot range for a good thrower. Red player is on the mark, and is just looking to match up with the hips here. Orange block is Red player’s hands, held close to the body. From this position, there’s some potential for the reach–I’m not saying don’t reach, I’m just saying don’t rely on it and definitely don’t over commit to stopping a throw with it–and that reach is within bounds to pressure your normal throws, stop an IO, etc. Your faster hucks, however, are likely to be deterred a bit less by the threat of simply the reach (again, assuming you’re dealing with a good thrower), and the general trajectory this permits tends to be pretty much what O and D would expect–a fairly decent leading throw with some float and some tilt, which generally goes the O’s way if they’re making good decisions.

That said, if you can move this far and move this far proactively, you’ve got a mark that’s good enough quality to play high-level collegiate ultimate, assuming your marking skills aren’t severely lacking elsewhere.

Now the huck-stopper mark. In this particular iteration I’ve got the mark going out to about elbow position, which is arbitrary but not without merit. You can very clearly see that this cuts off a much larger swath of trajectory–especially if this is a sideline marking position (more on that at some much later point), a throw that has to go this wide and arc that much is far more likely to fall the defense’s way, particularly when you consider that these types of throws tend to be forced into their paths due to last-second adjustment (anathema to successful hucks in particular).

The downside? As I alluded to at the beginning of this post, this generally leaves you overextended. You don’t often see a mark in this sort of position, and when you do, it’s only for a second or a half second (generally aided by a “strike!” call or similar help), just enough to discourage the huck. You can tell with a simple look that the distance to cover both ends of that spectrum easily double the more conservative range–this is why it is important to get to a position like that early, and to be ready to quickly move back to respond to the other side. Be mobile. Don’t even attempt to do this if you’re not mobile enough to get back and do your primary job of not getting (heinously) broken. Chances are, you’re not mobile enough to get in the way quickly enough to pressure the huck, either.

This is the sort of marking capability that gets you an assignment against the other team’s no. 1 throwing threat, that allows your mark to be a lynchpin of the defense rather than simply a very large piece of the puzzle. In short, a game-changer.

With good mobility on the mark, you can take away a much larger swath of the field than a stationary mark can, and perhaps even take away a bit more of the field than the other team anticipates–otherwise known as good defense. Using your mobility as a weapon is the pinnacle, but the base is being mobile enough to avoid getting fooled and used by the thrower in front of you.

Start by getting on your toes. The last thing you should do on an ultimate field is take a break on the mark (pun intended! That might be my favorite one yet. I’m filing it away for future coaching use, it’s so good). (It’s too important to take a break and risk letting down your teammates) Through practice, learn how and where and when to be proactive. With diligence, learn how and where and when you can get away with being aggressive(ly proactive). There’s very little that substitutes for experience here–I can’t give a ton of specific advice here because body types and game situations really can make a significant difference. That said, more basics to come.

UPDATE: Gwen adds some more great pointers on marking in the comments.

Related posts:
Marking Thought: Stay Balanced

Marking Thought: Spacing

Marking Thought: The Hole-y Mark

Want to throw more effectively? Use chopsticks.

Mackey — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 04:00:00 +0000

Having trouble gripping your forehand? Have you ever used chopsticks? Did you know that you can hold them in such a way–with your thumb pinching the bottom stick against your ring and pinkie–as to closely simulate holding a strong forehand?

The school ID you use to swipe for your meals? Ever consider the similarity of an ID card to a frisbee when gripping and throwing backhand fakes while you’re waiting in line? I have. I do it all the time. I do it subconsciously with all manner of object–put something in my hands, stand me up, and make me wait, and within 20 seconds I’ll be throwing fakes. They’ll have more or less exaggeration depending on context–if I’m standing in front of my class of 20+ Japanese students while they work on the latest English paper, I forego the object and disguise the steps in my pivot as pacing around the room and keep my shoulder motions subtle, but with intention and a little bit of visualization.

These motions are as natural to me as anything else I do.

You can go to practice and throw for half an hour before warmups, you can toss on the green every day for an hour…I’ll take that, and add on all those odd idle minutes throughout the day. If I can move, I’ll practice the fakes. If in class, I’ll make cutting schematics when the lecture gets boring.

Walking to class? Going up or down stairs? Throw a little attention towards your footwork when you change direction on your turns. Think about planting and stopping quickly at the bottom if you like to hurry down the stairs. If you’re really into it, carry a disc with you. Get to know your frisbee, become its friend, and it’ll treat you well in turn.

Opportunities are endless. A little creativity and you’ll find them everywhere. Incremental actions in aggregate will make a profound difference in your game.

Related posts:
Throwing Thought: Throw Convincing, Effective Fakes

Throwing Thought: Throw Off-Handed

Throwing Thought: Fake with an Upward Trajectory

Throwing Thought: Throw Off-Handed

Mackey — Mon, 20 Oct 2008 04:00:00 +0000

I know what just leapt to mind.

“The lefty backhand, huh? I’ve never thought it was very useful./What a useful throw!”

I’m not going to write on the merits of such a throw (haven’t had much chance to test it myself–though it is ready, should the appropriate situation for its use ever emerge…).

This is simply a suggestion. If you’ve ever hurt your throwing arm or dislocated a finger on your throwing hand and hurriedly rushed to learn how to throw off-handed because NE ’07 Regionals was only a week away (before finally resolving to grit it out with the right, because you could make due with the pinky in a splint), then you might appreciate what I’m getting at here.

Teaching yourself how to throw off-handed is like teaching a rookie how to throw, but with the slight leg-up of your extra experience with the other limb. Through the lens of what you’ve already learned, can you apply your knowledge and discern what the real keys in throwing are?

It’s hard to teach any skill, especially if you’re far enough along in your learning that you’ve forgotten how you learned in the first place…with throwing, however, you have the luxury of another novice–your off hand. If you can teach your off-hand, you can teach a rookie.

Perhaps more importantly, if you can teach your off-hand, you can learn how to improve the consistency of your dominant hand. How is it, exactly, that you’re able to determine where your forehand goes when you let it go? Is there something in the grip that lets you keep your backhand flat?

It’s also a good way to keep casual throwing interesting. In addition to throwing some game-time visualization into these situations, you can take a step back and re-examine the fundamentals through use of your off-hand. If you’re looking for a slightly more practical carryover, you can do a lot worse than having an off-handed backhand in your arsenal (particularly the high release, which is to date the most consistent advantage for the lefty backhand vs. the righty flick I’ve seen).

Try it. Re-learn how to learn.

(And then teach)

UPDATE: Check the comments for some more thoughts about in-game applications of off-hand throwing.

Related posts:
Throwing Thought: Throw Convincing, Effective Fakes

Being Quick on the Catch-Throw Turnaround

Throwing Thought: Grip