CONTEXTS
CONTEXTS
I had the pleasure of spectating at John Robles’ matches during my travels with David Chapman’s entourage, and while also visiting Robles’ nearby home-club on occasion, in Long Beach, to watch John dominate against visiting pros and elite competitors. When John wound up that great left hip and arm, the ball often disappeared, until it struck the wall, resounding like a Howitzer blast. His competitors just waved at those shots. It’s amusing that John used to say his brother Mike hit it harder and faster than he did, but I had watched them both, side by side, over multiple occasions, so I thought that his respectful remark reflected more sibling love and courtesy than fact. I had seen both their powers, and I had to tip my hat to John, who climbed as high as no. 4 in the pro ranks, largely by virtue of his power and placements, if my memory is accurate.
Once in Lakewood, Colorado, while I spectated from the front row of the gallery, this same John Robles struggled against the power of one John Bike, who hit the ball harder and faster than Robles did. And, during a timeout, Robles observed in a quiet aside to me that he was having trouble seeing Bike’s shots, especially at elevation where the fast ball goes maybe 5-7 mph faster. Robles did not hesitate to exploit my coaching as one of TGO’s viziers, as long as I was going to sit nearby. I didn’t mind it either, since John had always treated me kindly, and having become Robles-‘familia’ over the years. I wasn’t taking anything away from David’s preparations. John has a big heart—and it pumps gallons of respect and friendship, even if he plays handball a bit ‘close’ on the court.
But before I zero in on that courtside conversation, along with any parentheticals that I added, please allow me to step away a bit further.
I already could see the difference between Bike’s shots and Robles’, a difference likely accountable to the greater body-weight that Bike could throw into his arm and hand acceleration. But no one hit a handball harder, in all my years of observation, than did Tati Silveyra, a man lighter of bone and muscle mass than Bike. Anyone could see Tati’s additional 5 mph averages during matches, such as during the 1992 USHA Men’s Four-Wall Singles National Championship, for example. His increased speed differentials remained consistent through the duration of a 90-minute match. Even Paul Brady, referencing his match against Tati at the Big Money Shootout, mentioned, “His power got my attention right away.” (Brady won that match on mobility, and perfect-serve and hop placements, since Tati was already experiencing obvious hip-issues, in my estimation.)
In Goleta California, I once played a doubles match in the open division against Tati and his partner Jaime Paredes, who toyed with my team, by hitting with their eyes closed, by pirouetting or tripping each other up, or by each standing on one toe. My team earned 12 in the first game. “Hey, we’re competitive,” I told my partner Alan Swickard, feeling some hope that my game-2-plan to slow the game way down would frustrate them into a game-loss. Carol Lauer, in the gallery, laughed. “Boak, you don’t see them twirling around, making faces at the audience, while you guys are flailing.” Ouch.
But the point of this memory follows: I was feeling confident, in game 2, and I hit what I thought to be a pretty good rally-control bounce-pass, up the right, hoping to merge it with the wall. I drifted to center to cover the reply, so I could paddle-kill it, pop it to the ceiling, or repass it. Jaime simply made eye-contact with Tati, nodded, and also stepped to center with me, while
Tati got behind my pass before it merged with the wall, and, with very simple and thorough and well-drilled biomechanics, crushed it. As the ball left his hand, you could hear that special leather-garnished “whoosh” that a perfectly-struck ball makes, when you seat it in your glove. Tati had just aimed a left-side-wall, waist-high, V-pass, with enough spin on the ball to carry it over to the sidewall on my left, while hitting the ball pretty close to the center of the front wall.
That ball disappeared, upon leaving his hand. He cannon-blasted that shot into the front wall, and the ball caromed off, to pass me three times. Note my assumptions here: I never saw it, but I’m pretty sure that’s what the ball did, ‘cause I heard a cyclonic-sound rush pass me, three times within two seconds.
First, I instinctively stepped to the left, to block it to the ceiling with my fist, but it had long since departed, a hissing echo. Next, I raced a step or two to the back wall, thinking to catch up with it, ha ha, to maybe hope-hit it into the back wall, for a “get,” but it had flashed out of reach, again, with a hiss. Finally, I attempted a two-step stumble toward the right wall, because Tati had hit it so hard, it was going to come off that right wall, waist-high, before it bounced a second time. Even at the trailing end of the shot, the ball vanished past me again, as I whiffed at it with my right hand. A second earlier, my partner had already started walking to the back-court, when he heard the ball ka-boom into the front wall, kind of chuckling to himself, and knowing, for that rally, we were doomed.
I had failed to see that ball when Tati connected, however, because in those days I lacked eye-discipline.
So, the relevant question becomes, how could someone like David Chapman see Bike’s, Tati’s, and Robles’ shots, easily, and defeat these handball monsters, when I could only stagger in a circle like a zombie, and while Chapman himself was slower of foot than I was?
The answer? He was faster with his eye, faster with his mind: and he knew how to watch.
TGO, Coach Lew Morales, and Seeing the Fast-Ball: It Starts with your Mind.
It starts with your mind. You have to know that you CAN see it, if you think about it, and then follow the logic. Hitting fast balls in baseball provides a common-sense experience we all understand. Ted Williams, for example, claimed he could see the seams on the fast-ball as it struck his bat, and he could see the part of the ball he wanted to contact with the sweet-spot of the bat, while he claimed he could spot the ball right where it hit his bat. His record suggests he told the truth. Batters no where as near accomplished as Williams have hit pitchers’ fastest pitches over the decades, after facing that pitcher for a few innings or over a few games. And note, a handball rarely, if ever, reaches speeds of 96-102 MPH.
Indeed, we may have less time in a smaller space to spot a smaller ball, but we also have a slower ball, in a smaller space, where we are closer to the opponent, so we can watch the ball leave the opponent’s hand with greater clarity.
You can easily follow a car or motorcycle passing by at 120 or greater, since the object is larger. Would shrinking a car or motorcycle to the size of a handball make it appear faster? Yes. So for a smaller object, you may need to look ‘harder’, and use a microscopic focus instead of a macroscopic one. Do not rely on peripheral vision to spot a fast-moving ball. Use your fine-focus vision to seek and find an imaginary line or stain or seam or even the spin on the ball, while using your peripheral vision solely to note where your opponent is moving to after that shot.
Now, LEW MORALES
Here’s what Lew Morales taught David Chapman (around age 16) about seeing the fast-ball hit by a power-hitter.
“David,” Lew said, “when you watch the power-hitter, you have to look at the hitter’s posture—his amount of bend. Low, mid, or high? If it’s high, the ball will not be fast. If it’s mid, it can go fast. And if it’s low, it can be fast. Next, you have to watch the hitter’s front foot. Power hitters cannot hit the ball hardest, if they can’t put their front feet down first. No one can, without hitting an uncontrolled shot. So, if they are not in position, or don’t have time, to put their front feet down, no matter their low, mid, or high posture, their return balls will be easy to dominate—if you are in center court.”
“Got it!” David answered.
“OK, but if you see that they have time to put their front foot down, now you have to use your memory and your eyes. What does this player prefer to hit from there, when under full body-control? Gauge the imaginary line drawn from their rear toe to their front toe. That is the line their ball will take, unless you have the rare opponent who can hit off-angle from that line, which you will learn right away, or else the opponent has more than one shot from the same motion. But notice, power-hitters rarely, if ever, have two shots from their best power-moves. Once they commit to hitting hard, it is 98% of the time the same shot. So, you will have to use your memory, and be ready to cover their preferred shot. You can only do that if you are in center court first.”
“Well, why are Bike’s shots still hard for me to see?” David mentioned.
“That just tells me you weren’t in center court when you were looking, priority one, as you know.” Lew answered.
“What?”
“You’re letting Bike get in front of you, or else, you are lined up off-center of the court when Bike hits. Get in front of his toes-line, or else mentally draw a line from his toes into the court, and make sure you move to line up your back hip somewhere on that line so you can swing into the return with your strong hand.”
“You mean the ball won’t look as fast?”
“The ball will always look faster if it traverses your point of view, moving fast from right to left, or left to right. That’s the way it will look if you are stuck behind him, or off to the side. So how can you make it look as if it is going slower?”
“Get on the same line as the incoming ball! Line my hip up on the predicted line the ball will reflect off the front wall.” David answered. “Power hitters want to hit the front wall first, to maximize the power!”
“Exactly. A fast ball coming directly toward you does not look near as fast, because it is not going left to right or right to left across your line of vision. Your eyes don’t bobble as much. The ball only grows in perspective. Your mind will adjust instantaneously. You can use a shorter swing and the elastic arm, if you have lined up on his predictable line.”
“I get it. Most fast-ball pitchers need to show you some side-to-side movement of the ball, because it looks faster. But if it is a lined-in pitch, the batter simply needs to block the ball. If a pitcher only has a straight in fast-ball strike, he doesn’t last long in the majors.”
“OK,” Lew said. “Put it all together.”
“I’ve got to be in center-court as he hits. I have to see if he has time to put his front foot down. If he does, I have to check his posture, low for kill or kill-pass, mid for pass. Once he puts his front foot down, and I read the toes-line, I need to spot the ball leaving his hand, and line up my rear-knee with the trajectory of that shot. I look right at the ball as it comes toward me, and I am going to look for the spin on it, so I can hit my own spins on my two-way shots.”
“Exactly.”
TGO VIDEOS
Now, may I advise? Cue up a David Chapman video, and we already know he’s going to be near the center of the court, or within a step or two of center. But just watch his eyes. Do not follow the ball. Whenever his opponent hits, you will see David look first right at the opponent, to gauge how much time the opponent has to hit. Next, it’s quick, but his gaze moves a bit lower, more specifically, to the opponent’s feet. He’s anticipating the ball-height from the opponent’s bend, the ball-direction-line from the toes, and the possibility of power from the amount of time the opponent has to place the front foot down. You can see that this eye-discipline allows him a head start to move early to cover any shot, often while the opponent is still recovering from a follow-through. He is reading where the opponent’s ball will first bounce—not where it will end up. David never tells you much of this on his instructionals. He just says, “Watch your opponent hit the ball.”
Need I say more? Sure.
Kelly Russell, my HB colleague, sometime opponent, sometime partner, was historically one of the best at reading opponents’ power and interrupting the ball—all while staying in the front court. He has multiple National Championships to his credit, with Chamberlin, and others, and still plays. He is in the SCHA Hall of Fame, with his longtime doubles partner, and multiple National Championship owner, Mike Bock. He and Mike also have multiple World Handball Championships in age divisions. Kelly is an ideal right-side specialist—and he can dominate rallies from the right side.
A story goes, Kelly and one of his partners were playing doubles against Naty Sr. and his partner at a prestigious tournament. (I wish I had the other two names.) Naty and his partner were blasting power-passes up the right, a good target against most teams, but Kelly was simply fielding these blasts out of the air, short-hopping them, or else re-killing them from in front of the service line. Kelly could even field these shots from shoulder-height and rekill them into the front-right corner. Finally, Naty Sr., respecting Kelly’s abilities, took his partner aside, and said, “Do not hit the ball to Kelly’s side.”
Years later, after I met Kelly, and started playing against him regularly, I pleaded for a coaching session from him. And I asked, “What do you look for to cut off shots from the front court?”
“I look at the amount of bend in their body: kill? pass? or loft? I watch their front foot. I remember what they like to hit from their posture. I start my swinging motion while moving to my hitting zone while they are putting down their front feet. For example, I always know what you’re going to hit.”
“How’d you get this skill?” I asked, wondering if he had figured it all out on his own.
“My Dad, Earl the Pearl, used to place me in the front court, in front of the front line, and blast shots at me, and say, ‘Put that away without leaving that box’. You learn to watch, time, measure posture, and you have to get on the hitter’s line early. You can’t use your big swing. And LOOK AT THE BALL,” he added, with heavy drawn-out emphasis on the words “look” and “the ball.”
Kelly has been yelling that at me for years, now.
OK, that’s how you slow down a fast ball. With practice, good eye-discipline, proper centering, memory, friendship, and a mind full of Handball Wisdom.
SO WHAT DID I SAY TO JOHN ROBLES?
“John, slow the ball down with your mind. You’ll get used to the pitcher, as you watch the ball leave his hand, right as he puts his foot down. Line up with his posture, so the ball just grows in size as it comes toward you. You might need to try a shorter swing.”
RECENT RESEARCH ABOUT VISION
Very interesting research has found a strange commonality among athletes who are extraordinarily gifted at seeing fast balls. They statistically have higher incidences of better than 20-20 vision. Ted Williams was reported to have 20-15 vision. Optometrists are notoriously unwilling to offer eye-correction past 20-20, while some eyes cannot reach better than 20-20, due to organic issues, aging, or metabolic issues. I offer this here, in case you are curious about the role genetics may play in athletic performance.
Boak Ferris Bio
When Boak grew up overseas, Boak’s dad insisted he learn martial arts while attending boarding schools, and so Boak studied Boxing (his dad’s sport), Aikido, and a bit of Kendo over a period of twelve years. He also competed at tennis, golf, soccer, swimming, and handball between elementary school, and then in High School competed at Handball and Track. Moving forward in time, in 1989, Boak first befriended David Chapman, without involvement in any coaching. In 1991, Boak was recruited as a faculty mentor into CSULB’s TEAMWIN project to help university athletes excel in sports and academics. Among his university clients, he coached various members of the university’s tennis, water-polo, and volleyball teams, as the university directed to him, about 16 in all, including James Cotton in basketball and Jered Weaver in baseball—both of whom enrolled in Boak’s courses. Among his topics of engagement, he included sports psychology, cognitive psychology, analytical skills, and lifestyle issues. The TEAMWIN project, though successful, lapsed as a result of a loss of funding, about 1995. Around 1991, Boak also engaged in contributing coaching tips to Steffi Graf’s team and agency, while also joining David Chapman’s team as a bona-fide coach. He traveled on and off with David’s team until about the year 2000, at which point David’s travel schedule became too hectic for Boak, who had since been promoted to Coordinator of Graduate-Required Testing and Evaluation of CSULB students. Today, he is a number-two ranked handball competitor in the USHA Veteran Super Masters Division, and has six handball clients, ranging from 16 up to 70 years of age.