For the Insider
“Be the ball, Danny.”
Remember that line? It’s from Caddyshack, the 1980 movie starring Chevy Chase as Ty Webb, the golf pro and yoga master. In the scene, Ty is mentoring his young protege, Danny, on the “force in the universe that makes things happen.” It’s fiction, of course, a movie intended to make us laugh. It’s also a 3,000-year-old yoga lesson: see where you’re going, narrow the focus and take action. Then repeat.
I’ve never been much of a golfer. I do like the game of baseball. And though I long ago traded the baseball glove for the yoga mat, I can appreciate the real life yoga lessons inherent in the game of baseball. On the day that the Tampa Bay Rays will defy the odds and defeat the Houston Astros to advance to the American League Championship Series (hopefully), I’m thinking about 1980, the year that Caddyshack was released, and the year that my batting average dropped 100 points in two weeks as a member of the Concord High School baseball team.
Coach Doane tried the Caddyshack approach. “Be the ball, Mike.” I swung and missed. “Be the ball,” he said again. I fouled one off my foot. It only got worse. I dropped from the leadoff spot in the batting order to seventh. I tried a lighter bat. I even tried a different pair of socks. The socks didn’t work.
Coach Doane tried a different approach. He stood on the mound at practice, held up the ball, and asked, “What do you see?” “The ball,” I said from the batter’s box.
“What else?”
“I see the fence in center field.”
“Nope. Go run a lap around the field.”
We tried again. “What do you see?” “I see the ball,” I repeated.
“What else?”
“I see the fence in center field.”
“Nope. Start running. ”
We tried yet again. “What do you see?” “I see the ball.”
“What else?”
“I see the barn behind the fence.” Coach Doane fired a fastball inches from my head.
“Focus on what you are doing,” he demanded.
“I am,” I whined.
“What do you see?”
“I see the ball.”
“What else?”
“I see the ball, coach!”
“What else?”
“I see the stitches on the ball.”
“What else?”
“I see the word ‘Rawlings’ on the ball.” Coach Doane fired another fastball, right down the middle of the plate. I swung, and ripped a line drive right off his leg. He doubled over in pain, hobbled around a bit, then straightened up and said: “To hit a baseball, the focus must only get smaller. Only then can you hit it out of the park.”
The CHS baseball team went on to win the Class L title that year. I went on to hit barely over .300. I never hit the ball off that barn. Honestly, I cared a little more about my white Adidas cleats than the intricacies of hitting a baseball. I focused a little too much on my sinking batting average than on what I was going to do about it.
In yoga, the focus only gets smaller. We train the mind and the body follows. We may not even know it when we begin the practice. The body will change, heal and get stronger when it is ready.
“Be the ball,” says Ty Webb. “Be the ball, Danny.”
“It’s kind of difficult with you talking like that,” says the young protege.
It’s a noisy world out there. So many things are vying for your attention. Step on to a yoga mat. Do it once. Do it twice. Do it often. Narrow the focus, and swing for the fences, because you’ve already won.
(Mike Morris is the owner of Hot House NH Yoga & Pilates.)
