Mike Fetters made his pitching debut in September 1989, and ended his major league career in September 2004.  I met Mike and started working with him in 1998 when he was recovering from Tommy John’s surgery.  I went to Baltimore to help him prepare for a game, and his presence, posture, attitude and pitching was OFF.  He told me that night he was going to retire after the season.  He had exercise-induced asthma, and pitching badly was embarrassing.  He’d rather stay home with his kids and chalk it up to 10 good years.  I suggested using the upcoming off-season to continue working on his physical self with continued training and massage, and then we would also work on some new techniques for breathing.  The following exert from an article written in the LA Times explains what we did.

“Various injuries kept his appearances sporadic and his ERAs high. The Dodgers were one of the few teams to show any interest last winter, so Fetters accepted their minor league-contract offer and set out to rebuild his body and mind.”

“I didn’t know if my career was going to last any longer,” he said.

Lori Marick, a former amateur bodybuilder based in Tempe, played a large part in Fetters’ final push. Marick, 38, has an eclectic resume that lists experience in sports psychology, personal training, hypnotherapy, visualization techniques and deep-tissue massage. While on Marick’s massage table, it occurred to Fetters that the same techniques he was using to block the pain of deep-tissue massage might also allow him to relax and focus on the mound.

“You’ve got to be able to let it go,” Marick told Fetters. “The body holds tension. You can’t pitch if you’re tight and frustrated and you’ve got all these other things that are causing you to be that way.”

The result is what you see on the mound. The long, deep breaths. The moments when Fetters appears to stare off into nowhere. The quick snap of his head. The murderous glare. All leading to the pitch, to the moment he lets loose with the baseball, clear-headed and committed. They are the carefully laid strategies that keep Fetters off the clubhouse floor.

“I would get myself so worked up,” Fetters said. “The first time I got to the big leagues and that happened, I went back to the minor leagues. They ran a bunch of tests on me and found out I had exercise-induced asthma, which didn’t make things any better.”

“That’s been my biggest problem my whole career, not being able to slow things down. It wasn’t until this winter when I learned how to control my breathing. Even in Milwaukee, when I was a closer, there were times I’d have to step off the mound to catch my breath.”

“I remember times [then-Brewer Manager] Phil Garner would come up and say, ‘Are you OK?’ I’d say, ‘I can’t breathe. I’ll be OK. Let me just catch my breath.'”

He remains nervous. He cannot avoid that, nor does he want to. The difference is, he’s knocked about four Ding-Dongs from his anxiety level.

“I’ll get to the mound and I’ll look down,” he said.

“I’ll pick an object the first time I step on the rubber. I’ll find something in the grass that I’ll look at that slows me down. I’ll take a deep breath. Clear my thoughts. Clear my breathing. Then I’ll pick up the sign and I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’m still intense, but I’ve learned how to control it so I don’t get exhausted. I’ve slowed it down. Between pitches I’m slower than I’ve ever been.”

Before, his only strategy was to hurry. At times, still, Fetters pitches like a guy fending off a swarm of hornets with a shovel. His breaths are deep enough to suck all the air out of Echo Park. His head pivots sharply. His chin juts defiantly. Then come the long arms and legs and, finally, the baseball.

“He really does look like a different guy, like he’s not internalizing it anymore, and he’s become very animated,” Rader said.

“I turned on a Dodger game recently and thought, ‘My God, look at Michael. What’s going on with that?’

“Fetters is living better with it, living with the buildup, and the results. He said it’s better that way.

“Some guys it just takes a little longer,” he said. Los Angeles Times Articles