What's Past is Prologue.
Maybe it was the countless hours spent throwing soda cans against the wall at recess, scaling roofing shingles over neighboring apartment buildings, whizzing dodge balls, snow balls, et al. at the heads of friends and foe alike, or, perhaps, it was simply a gift from the gods.
Whatever the reason, the simple fact remains: I can throw a football harder, faster and farther than most.
Given that I am only 5'8" and change, and have never weighed more than a buck-sixty, this has been a source of wonder, amazement and utter disbelief.
Though I've never quarterbacked professionally, over the past 30 years or so I have gained a wealth of experience through pickup games, intramural leagues and organized flag football.
In fact, I was once drafted by a scout (ironically, LA takes its flag football very seriously) based solely on my ability to consistently and effortlessly launch squeaky-tight spirals 50-yards downfield during tryouts.
Unfortunately the head coach -- who stood 6'5", weighed a good 250 and once wore the uniform of a Buffalo Bill -- did not share in his scout's assessment. He cut me before I could play in a single game. (Did I mention this was flag football?)
Therefore, before I begin, I would like to ask anyone affiliated with the Buffalo Bills or stands over 6'3" and weighs more than 220 to not read any further. If the NFL is to be believed, you already fit the "prototype" bill (or Johnson, as the case may be) and your efforts might be better spent peddling your wares to those clubs currently in need: Dallas, Cincy and (surprise-surprise) Buffalo.
For the rest of you, whether you are an armchair quarterback resigned to the fact that you'll always throw like Richard Simmons, or you are a once and future weekend-warrior whose last pass attempt looked like the final volley from a Roman candle (unless you are in the process of being blind-sided by a 240 pound linebacker, there really is no excuse for such a display), you are most probably lacking in the basic fundamentals of quarterback mechanics.
So if you'd like to be able to face your boys again, or your daughter's Brownie troop for that matter, then pull up a chair and kick it over, you won't be needing it.
Zen & the Science of Quarterbacking (beyond the Armchair)
Before we begin, turn on the TV. What am I saying? Turn your full attention to the TV. No, leave the chair where it is. (Okay, you married guys can right the chair - but don't sit down!)
Now, find a major league baseball game. Keep looking; the Braves are bound to be playing somewhere. Found one? Good.
Watch as any one of the infielders (unless it's the World Series and Chuck Knoblauch has wandered onto the infield) handles a routine grounder. Watch his motion as he fields the ball, steps-in and throws to first.
What did his final stance look like? Were his feet close together or far apart? If he was in position, his feet should have been about three feet apart and planted firmly in the dirt so as to maintain one of the most vital aspects of throwing anything -- balance.
Okay, lets move to your closet or, if you're married, to your garage and dig out that autographed Ryan Leaf model Wilson with the Pro-Tack Composite Leather that you've been dying to punish and head outdoors. (Married men, don't forget your Ray Bans - remember how sensitive you are to natural light!) Next, find the vacant lot, high school football field or former military base nearest your home. Park the Accord EX, Toyota 4-Runner, or Dodge Mini Van (you know who you are). Grab the football, un-wedge your gym bag from behind the seat but remove the PowerAde -- today you're a man, today you'll drink water from the water fountain like God intended. (On second thought, those of you at the abandoned military base may bring your PowerAde...)
Now, cross to the field. Once you have a good 40 yards of dirt, turf or asphalt in front of you -- stop. Recall for a moment the stance of that infielder -- mimic that stance, then take it down a notch. Look down -- your feet should be spread approximately two feet apart, give or take a few inches. If they aren't -- What are you waiting for? Do it! DO IT! Sorry, just making sure you're still awake.
This is the stance you'll throw from, first you must - Lock and Load.
Look at the football. Pretty simple, huh? Then you should have no problem finding the laces. No, they're not there just for effect. Yes, I know they look like stitches, but they're called laces. Can we move on? Good.
Now place your hand at the back of the football -- the half nearest you -- and slide you ring finger between the first and second lace and your pinky between the third and fourth. This may vary slightly, depending on the size of your mitt, but the point is -- keep your grip toward the back of the ball with your fingers comfortably set between the laces.
Take the ball in hand and cock your arm back with the ball poised just beyond and behind your ear. Use your other arm as a counter-balance by placing it out ahead of you in a similar fashion (more bent than cocked) and in the opposite direction to your throwing arm.
Now find a point out there, a target that you'd like to shoot for. Lower your throwing arm a bit while you raise your counter arm accordingly. Imagine hitting that target, hitting that receiver on the fly -- 40 yards downfield and -- Go For It! "I believe that pass was intended for Duckworth." -- Pat Summerall (to)
"It looked more like a duck to Passworth if you ask me." -- John Madden (The NFL on CBS)
Oops. Sorry. It seems I neglected to mention an important component in throwing a tight spiral or "pretty pass" -- release.
Release, like the rifling in a rifle barrel, determines rotation and therefore affects accuracy as well as distance. For results, pretty isn't always necessary -- Ryan Leaf has thrown some pretty interceptions, while Doug Flutie has thrown some pretty ugly completions -- but fair or not, much of what we accomplish in life is judged by how good we look doing it.
So if you ever want to hear "Ooh!" or "Ah!" or the ever gratifying, everlasting "DAMN!," then you'd better learn pretty.
I know. I'm stalling. Release is tough. It's not something you think about so much as something you do. I can tell you, however, that if you release too soon, you'll produce a floater with too much air under it.
"Too much air" equals too much time -- too much time for the ball to get to it's destination, and if you were in a game -- too much time for a defender to close on your receiver.
What if your release is late? Well, then you'll be pitching it like a baseball. This is fundamentally sound and works well when you're trying to hit your man coming across the middle on a 15 yard slant, but if your standing in a field by your lonesome and shooting for a trash barrel 40 yards away -- it ain't gonna happen. The best advice I can give here is to try the Goldilocks approach -- keep trying until you find one that fits just right...
Good, now that you have most of the mechanics down, let's get real. Hope may float; but that football is gonna need something tangible behind it.
Force = Mass x Acceleration Squared It's time to learn how to maximize the amount of force you extract from that body of yours.
Ironically, this is probably where many big corn-fed mules fail and little big-men like Doug Flutie and myself flourish.
We make the most of what we've got, thereby optimizing the snap in our crackle. Close your eyes and think back to Physics 101. Do you remember the equation for force?
If I remember my physics correctly, mass is only one component of force, the other is acceleration. and since acceleration is squared, its contribution to force is exponential and, therefore, its effect is of greater relative significance than that of mass.
In other words, if you can increase the speed ("snap") of your throwing motion, you will increase the force ("crackle"), thereby, getting more distance ("pop") from your throws. I know, I know. "But how?" "You don't wanna know." "I wanna know how!" -- Mickey & Rocky, Rocky ('76)
Three words: Practice, practice and practice.
Pretty easy, huh? Not so fast. I've got two more words for you -- sit-ups. (Or is that one word?)
Yes, I purposely neglected to mention this important factor earlier because if I had -- I'd never have gotten you to read this far, let alone gotten you out of that chair!
And yes, I said "sit-ups."
I didn't say do sets of politically correct "crunches." I didn't say drag the abdominizer out from under the bed. I said "sit-ups."
Hershel Walker, Dennis Quaid, Charles Atlas old-school-style sit-ups. and plenty of them. As many as you can stand -- plus two. Why? Because if you begin from the aforementioned balanced position, then your mid-section -- your abdominal muscles, become the focal point of your throwing motion.
This not only applies when heaving a football or baseball, it is equally true when swinging a 34-ounce Louisville Slugger or a 12-ounce pair of Everlast. In theory, the stronger the abs (or any muscle, for that matter) -- the faster they twitch, the faster they twitch -- the more whip-like the motion of the mid-section and, consequently, the more whip-like the motion of the arm... thus maximizing the velocity factor in our Force = Mass x Acceleration Squared equation.
Well? Go home now, and don't come back until you have done as many sit-ups as you can stand over the course of the next three weeks.
Back so soon? Great. I didn't think you had it in you. Let's review.
At this stage of the game, you should have acquired a balanced stance, the proper grip, a fluid step-in to your throwing motion, followed by a workable release and follow-through. all of which have been enhanced by your newfound abdominal muscles. I'd say you're ready. So what are you waiting for -- let 'er fly!
So? How'd you do? What -- 45 yards? 40 yards?.
If you managed a high-arching, tight spiral that would have hit your man on the fly at least 35 yards downfield, then you've done yourself, and me, proud. If not, well, I guess the gods had more to do with throwing than I thought.
But, hey, look at the bright side -- your wife is gonna love your new abs.