You know, some days you just feel completely off. My movements on the field felt sluggish, like I was wading through treacle. My hands, usually pretty decent, felt like they were made of stone. It was frustrating, to say the least. I was complaining to my mate down at the local club, and he just casually mentioned, “Ever tried that Nishioka baseball stuff?” I hadn’t. Honestly, I thought he was just making it up, like half the stories he tells.

But the name stuck. Nishioka. I remembered him, the player. Flashy, quick, great hands. So, I did a bit of digging online, not much, just enough to get a vibe. Seemed like it was all about intense fundamental work, really drilling down on the basics until they were second nature. I figured, what have I got to lose? My current “practice” wasn’t exactly setting the world on fire.
Getting Started with the Nishioka Approach
So, the next clear afternoon, I grabbed my glove, a bucket of balls, and headed to the empty diamond. I decided I was going to really commit to this for a couple of hours. No distractions, just me and the grind. I started with a really thorough warm-up, lots of dynamic stretching, getting the blood pumping. Felt important to prepare properly if I was going to push it.
First, I focused purely on my hands. I set myself up and just had a friend (dragged him along for this experiment) pepper me with short-hop grounders.
- Quick feeds, one after another.
- Focus on soft hands, watching the ball all the way in.
- Transferring the ball quickly from glove to throwing hand, even if I wasn’t actually throwing it far.
My fingers were aching after about twenty minutes straight, but I could already feel a tiny bit more connection, if that makes sense. I kept telling myself, “quick, quick, quick,” just like I imagined Nishioka would be thinking.

Then, I moved on to footwork. This was the killer. Lots of drills involving quick feet around an imaginary base, working on getting my body in the right position to make a strong, accurate throw. We did a bunch where I’d charge a slow roller, field it, and simulate the throw to first. The emphasis wasn’t on hero plays, but on doing the simple things perfectly, every single time. It was exhausting. My legs were burning. I was thinking, “how did that guy make it look so effortless?”
After what felt like an age on fielding, I took a short break and then picked up my bat. From what I gathered, the Nishioka hitting philosophy, or at least what I decided it would be for my practice, was about making solid contact and using the whole field. Not trying to launch bombs, but hitting hard line drives. I spent a good half hour just on tee work.
- Really focusing on my hand path to the ball.
- Trying to stay short and quick with my swing.
- Aiming for different parts of the net I’d set up.
It was a change from my usual “grip it and rip it” approach. More controlled, more thoughtful.
By the end of it all, I was absolutely drenched in sweat and my muscles were screaming. I just collapsed on the grass for a bit. But you know what? It felt good. It felt like I’d actually worked on something specific, rather than just going through the motions. My hands felt a bit more responsive, and even my stance at the “plate” (aka, the tee) felt more balanced. It’s not like I’m going to turn pro overnight, but it definitely shook things up. That Nishioka baseball idea, or at least my version of it, might just have something to it. Definitely going to try and incorporate some of those drills into my regular routine. Beats just hitting aimless fly balls, that’s for sure.