Practice the Pitch You Don’t Want to See

Baseball has taught me that there is an easy way to feel prepared without actually being prepared.

Practice what you are already good at.

If I am struggling to hit an outside pitch, I could take fifty swings at pitches right down the middle. I would probably hit a lot of them. I would leave the batting cage feeling confident.

Then the game starts.

The pitcher throws outside.

That is when you find out whether you really prepared.

As I get closer to becoming a driver, I have started thinking about driving the same way. Learning to drive cannot just mean practicing when the weather is good, the road is empty, and everything goes exactly as expected. Safe drivers have to be prepared for the situations they hope never happen.

What do I do when a car suddenly stops in front of me? What happens when another driver runs a red light? How much harder is it to stop on a wet or icy road? What if my phone goes off at exactly the wrong time? What if my friends are distracting me? What if I am running late and feel tempted to speed?

Those are the outside pitches.

That is why I think driver education is so important. Obviously, new drivers need to learn traffic laws, signs, parking, turning, and how to control a car. But the most valuable part of driver education may be learning how quickly an ordinary situation can become dangerous.

A car is different from almost everything else a teenager learns to use. If I make a mistake on a math problem, I can erase it. If I strike out in baseball, I will probably get another at-bat. If I miss a shot in basketball, the other team gets the ball.

A mistake behind the wheel can be permanent.

That changes the way I think about preparing to drive.

One of the biggest things we can do to reduce driving deaths is to stop believing that distracted or dangerous driving is something only reckless people do. Almost everyone knows texting while driving is dangerous. People know they should wear seat belts. They know they should not speed or drive after drinking.

Yet people still do those things.

I think part of the problem is confidence. Drivers believe they can handle it. They have driven the same road hundreds of times. They tell themselves they will only look at their phone for a second. They are only going a little over the speed limit.

Sports have taught me to be suspicious of that kind of confidence.

Confidence is valuable when it comes from preparation. It becomes dangerous when it convinces you that the rules no longer apply to you.

I have been a passenger and watched drivers speed, look at phones, get distracted by conversations, or become impatient with other cars. What is interesting is that most of the time, nothing happens. The driver looks at the phone and does not crash. Someone speeds and still gets home safely.

That can actually make the next bad decision easier.

It reminds me of getting away with a mistake in baseball. Maybe I swing at a terrible pitch but somehow get a hit. The result was good, but that does not mean the decision was good. If I convince myself otherwise, eventually that mistake is going to catch up with me.

Driving has much higher stakes.

I learned something else about responsibility during my freshman year playing varsity baseball. I was one of the younger players on the team, so leadership was not about giving speeches or having a title. Sometimes it meant doing things nobody in the stands would ever notice. I brought the baseballs. I helped run batting practice. I tried to keep things organized. When one of our catchers was learning the position, I tried to help him however I could.

None of that showed up in a box score.

It still mattered because my teammates were depending on me.

I think safe driving requires that same kind of responsibility.

Nobody gives you credit for putting your phone away before starting the car. Nobody congratulates you for leaving enough following distance or slowing down because the road is wet. There is no trophy for refusing to drive when you are too tired or for telling a friend that you will find another ride rather than getting into a car with someone who should not be driving.

You make those choices because other people are depending on you.

When I eventually drive independently, my passengers will be depending on me. So will the driver coming toward me in the opposite lane. So will the person riding a bicycle on the shoulder and the family crossing the street.

I may never know their names.

That does not make me any less responsible for their safety.

I want to establish my rules before I am driving alone. My phone will stay out of my hands. Everyone in my car will wear a seat belt. I will not speed because I am late. If the weather is bad, I will adjust my driving instead of assuming I can handle it. If I am too tired to drive safely, I will not drive. If someone has been drinking or is otherwise unsafe to drive, I will find another way home.

I also want to be willing to speak up as a passenger. Teenagers sometimes worry about looking nervous or uncool. I would rather have a friend make fun of me for telling them to slow down than stay quiet while they do something dangerous.

Baseball has taught me one final lesson that may be the most important one for driving.

I cannot control the pitcher.

I can only control my preparation and my response.

On the road, I cannot control whether another driver is speeding, distracted, angry, tired, or impaired. I cannot control the weather. I cannot know when someone else is going to make a mistake.

I can control whether I am ready for it.

Someday I will be driving myself to school, baseball and basketball practices, games, work, and everything else that comes with having a license. I am looking forward to that freedom.

But freedom without preparation is just another form of risk.

Driver education can prepare me for the situations I expect. I want to prepare just as seriously for the ones I don’t.

Because whether it is baseball or driving, the real test is rarely the pitch right down the middle.

It is the one you didn’t want to see.