The Art of Hitting .300

It was a lot of work, more work than any 12-year-old could could have undertaken without the guidance of an equally determined adult. But my Dad and I realized that hitting was a process, a method that could be learned. Lau taught that everything I had been told -with horrible results- was in fact wrong. You don't judge whether a pitch is a strike and then swing; you start your swing and let your reflexes hold you back. You don't swing hard with your arms; you swing easy and get your power from your whole body.

All spring we worked on it, practicing in the garage, spending literally hundreds of dollars at batting cages working on mechanics. That very next season, I was hitting the ball better, and I only improved from there. By the end of that season, I was a certified leadoff terror. My team won its league title thanks to a game-winning single by yours truly. I even hit a few home runs (by not trying to, as Lau teaches). I was deliriously happy.

Even since then I've been a good hitter. Not a power hitter (I'm much too small), but a solid doubles guy with surprising pop. What I learned from this book kept me in organized baseball through Babe Ruth and high school (simultaneously), college, and semi-professional leagues. I am a hideously slow runner who soon after puberty had to give up dreams of playing professionally, but to this day I can step in front of a pitcher or pitching machine -cold- and drive the ball. This book taught me how. If you really want to hit a baseball, buy it, read it, internalize it, and put your faith in it. It will serve you well.