The Peak Performance Expert

Even if the Red Sox manage to win tonight’s game, it is essential that the organization look closely at what has contributed to their collapse this September.

As an outside observer (and a fan), watching the team dissolve is both heart-breaking and fascinating – kind of like watching a train-wreck – it’s tragic yet you can’t take your eyes off the scene.

So how can we understand the  disintegration of such an excellent team? 

For help I went to Rosabeth Moss Kanter’s fine book called Confidence: How Winning Streaks & Losing Streaks Begin & End.

Here is a quote from the book:

“Decline generally does not stem from a single factor, but from an accumulation of decisions, actions and commitments that become entangled in self- perpetuating system dynamics.  Once a cycle of decline is established, it is hard to simply call a halt, put on the brakes, and reverse direction.  The system has momentum.  Expectations have formed, and they can turn into a culture that perpetuates losing.”

Look at the faces of the players in the dug-out.  What do you see?  A lot of tension and worry.  Even after the high moments (rookie Ryan Lavarnway’s home runs) the pleasure dissipated rapidly.  Ok, they know their season is on the line and they can’t seem to figure out a way to get back on track. They don’t look like a winning team.

Under pressure, a typical athlete’s (well, everyone’s actually) focus will turn inward.  A seasoned pro athlete, a mentally tough athlete knows this and will work to redirect that focus externally, on the task at hand.

It’s not that internal focus is inherently bad, but it can end up in self-criticism and rumination and that is bad.

When Jon Lester said the other night, “I stink,” he may have been indulging himself in a bit of self-pity.  Yeah, his playing was uncharacteristically poor but if he only dwells on how bad he was, it will be harder for him to step back, regroup, refocus and come up with a solution to the problem.

Likewise, when ball-players, who are not generally known as the most articulate bunch, say things like, “we gotta play better baseball, “ or “we gotta come here ready to play ball,” that vagueness does not reflect a specific plan of action.  What, after all, have they been doing all year long if not playing baseball?

A losing streak can begin with one or two key players getting into a slump.  Moods are contagious and unless there are some key players who are outspokenly optimistic and who can insert some positive energy into the clubhouse, the rest of the players “catch” the mood.  Then learned helplessness moves in. Kanter writes, “…powerlessness undermines resilience.”

(Learned helplessness is a term based on Marty Seligman’s research at U. Penn.  It happens when it seems that no matter what you try, you can’t get out of a bad situation and so, you simply get depressed and give up.)

How to get out of it?  Since no one except the team knows the entire story, it’s impossible to offer specific suggestions but generally speaking, I would encourage the players who are beating themselves up to acknowledge how rotten they feel and then to  focus on developing a detailed, highly specific plan of action. Focusing on each step instead of the outcome is helpful, too.  (Especially since we have no control over the ultimate outcome of anything.)

Along those lines, I would ask the players to create a list of the things they can control and the things they cannot.  And the focus should be, obviously, on the things they CAN control.

I would hold a team meeting since I suspect a lot has been left unsaid and that is creating an undercurrent of negativity and tension. There is that sticky issue of those guys who are getting the big bucks and who are not delivering. That affects not only the team but the humiliated (but rich) ball player.

I am reminded of the old Disney film, Dumbo, about the little elephant with the big ears.  He thought he could fly because of the magic feather given to him by his friend, the little mouse.  When Dumbo lost the feather he thought he was going to fall until the mouse told him he didn’t need the feather.  It took Dumbo a while before he believed it but he managed to do so before crashing to the ground.

This is a good ball team.  They just don’t fully believe it these days. They may need a magic feather.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 28th, 2011 at 3:02 pm and is filed under baseball, Mental Toughness, Negative thinking, Red Sox. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.