Under the shadow of Armando Galarraga’s stolen perfect game, and umpire Jim Joyce’s human imperfection, I am moved to ponder the word pitch.
In baseball, when a pitch comes at you, it is meant to either intimidate, bamboozle, or go by too fast to hit. All pitches come with spin, except for knuckleballs, which float and dance on air currents sans spin.
In business, pitch is short for proposal, one that comes with an attempt to persuade the viewer or reader to say, “Yes.”
If it comes, like a baseball, with a lot of spin, it is not perfect. In fact, it is deeply flawed because, while it might get the viewer to “Yes,” it will probably leave her disappointed that she took the bait, swung the bat, and trusted the pitcher.
This is not good for anyone, including the pitcher, whose business and career most likely survives on repeat business and the building of strong relationships.
So, if spinning, curving, and brushing back the batter won’t work in business as in baseball, what will?
A perfect pitch heads right for the strike zone of problem definition. It involves a lot of back and forth—catching and throwing—until familiarity and trust emerge.
Once that occurs, pitcher and batter (seller and buyer) can agree on goals, metrics, value, and cost.
Together they can imagine what is present that needs to disappear, and what is absent that needs to appear.
The game of deception will be over. The pitch will be an invitation to cooperate, and the sale will be a homerun for both.