Former Wichita State pitching coach Brent Kemnitz used the mind to win the battle on the mound

Pitching coach Brent Kemnitz refused to look at Mike Pelfrey during the mound visit that helped turn his potential into production for Wichita State.

“I get pummeled,” Pelfrey said. “That was the first time, I think, I really pissed him off. He stared out at the scoreboard and just went nuts. I was scared out there, being meek, scared to throw the ball. I’m sure he used every cuss word there was in the book. It was the first time I ever got chewed out like that.”

Kemnitz’s career as coach — 38 seasons, thousands of mound visits, seven pages of yellow legal pad paper — ended at Wichita State on Monday when he resigned as pitching coach. The last connection to Wichita State’s run as a college baseball power departed with a news conference filled with stories, familiar sayings and a message of optimism and support for coach Todd Butler.

Kemnitz worked the mental game, just as he did for 37 seasons wearing No. 24 (and one wearing No. 8) in charge of pitchers. In those seasons, WSU pitching won two national ERA titles (1982, 1991), led the nation in strikeouts in 2007 and produced four pitchers who led the country in wins. More important, former coach Gene Stephenson and his assistants helped change college baseball by proving the sport could thrive outside sunny climates. WSU won big — highlighted by the 1989 NCAA title — and did it with a style and vision that set trends and helped the sport grow.

That history is a part of his legacy. What his pitchers remember are the words that shaped their performances. For Pelfrey, a first-round pick by the Mets in 2005, that chat at Eck Stadium during a game against Long Beach State early in his freshman season helped shape his attitude on the mound.

“Maybe that was what I needed at the time to make the next step,” said Pelfrey, who pitches for Detroit in his 11th major-league season. “Maybe he knew that. Maybe I didn’t fully believe in myself at the time.”

Kemnitz, who started as a graduate assistant in 1979 and became a full-time coach before the 1981 season, specialized in those moments. His pitchers remember a coach who gave them confidence and worked to reduce the mental barriers to throwing a ball over the plate and recording outs. He could refine their grip, polish their throwing motion and examine their arm angles, sure, but he excelled at convincing them to project confidence on the mound.

“He had that special ability to get the most out of guys and get them to pitch, I think, above a level some of them were capable of, or make them believe that,” former Shocker Anthony Capra said. “I was a young, dumb kid coming from Colorado.”

Capra, a Collegiate Baseball third-team All-American in 2008, remembers playing catch during one of his first practices as a Shocker. He flipped the ball back to his teammate, not paying attention to form or footwork.

“He didn’t like what he was watching that day and he pulled me aside and said. ‘Hey, we play catch with a purpose,’ ” Capra said. “I wasn’t moving my feet at all, just kind of flipping the ball. He pointed to (Travis) Banwart and said watch what he does. He was stepping into his throws and following through.”

When Jordan Cooper came to WSU in 2009, he joined a staff with hard-throwers Charlie Lowell and Brian Flynn. Trying to match them on the radar gun didn’t work for Cooper.

“I got frustrated because I wasn’t pitching as well as I wanted,” Cooper said. “He pulled me over and said, ‘Hey, don’t try to do too much. You’re a guy that can pitch, not throw. Be a pitcher.’ I stopped trying to out-stuff everybody and throw harder than Flynn or Lowell or anybody like that. I just tried to be a pitcher. He calmed me down and made me believe in myself again.”

Many of those belief sessions started in pitchers meetings before practice, nicknamed “flow.” Kemnitz would stride through the locker room and call out “flow, flow, flow, flow” to gather the pitchers for 15 minutes of laughs, strategy, health updates and scheduling. He carried his “brain,” seven pages of paper filled with around 400 tips, sayings and theories that Kemnitz began writing down in 1988.

No. 145 is “Eliminate comfortable at-bats.” No. 162 is “You are what you perceive yourself.” No. 190 is “Comedy is tragedy separated by time.”

“There wasn’t an experience he hadn’t come across that he couldn’t talk you through,” said Andy Womack, a reliever from 2007-08. “Pitching wasn’t just something you did on the mound. It was a daily study, an art, a science.”

Kemnitz was happiest when he found a small-town pitcher, overlooked by most, whom he could mold into a big winner. He loved the recruiting days before showcase baseball took over, when a coach could scout games around the Midwest and find players others missed. A scout tipped him off to Kennie Steenstra, after a tryout camp, from tiny Plato, Mo. Missouri State (then Southwest Missouri State) was the only other NCAA Division I school to offer Steenstra a scholarship, he said.

When Steenstra departed after the 1992 season, he compiled a 39-4 record, including a 17-0 mark in 1991.

“He was constantly harping on you that you were good, that you could do the things you needed to do,” Steenstra said. “When I was there, we recruited a lot of kids that were from smaller areas that kind of had a chip on their shoulder, that maybe they’d been passed over, overlooked. He and Gene were both able to motivate players, particularly those kind of players, to play with a chip on their shoulder and prove they were better than people thought they were.”

Since Monday, Kemnitz’s phone filled with text messages of support from his former players. On Monday, he said not being around players daily will be the toughest part of his departure from coaching.

“Anybody in coaching will tell you, relationships are No. 1,” Kemnitz said Monday. “You remember the people; you remember the relationships. Those will continue.”

At 59, Kemitz isn’t ready to retire, so he will likely work in the athletic department and hasn’t ruled out a return to baseball, perhaps in the pros.

“I’ve had a ton of pitching coaches and, I think, at this level, communication is the best thing as a way to get it across to each guy,” Pelfrey said. “We’re all different. He’s probably the best communicator I’ve been around.”

Kemnitz wants to remain close to the program. He resigned on Monday after two difficult seasons in which his role changed and WSU’s pitching slumped to previously unseen depths. He took the heat for the struggles and said he came to realize it was time to move on.

On Monday, he spoke of watching practice and offering his help to Butler and his successor at pitching coach. For past Shockers, his departure means their connection to the program is gone. No longer can they walk into the offices at Eck Stadium and expect a welcome in Kemnitz’s booming voice. Kemnitz kept close tabs on his players still in baseball. He also stayed updated on those moving on in life, players such as Noah Booth, who used to baby-sit Kemnitz’s daughters during his playing days.

“Even now, I get texts from him just checking up and making sure my life is going all right,” said Booth, a reliever from 2003-07. It’s just not going to feel like the same program. That’s unfortunate, but there’s got to be change sometime. They’re going to miss Brent.”

This story was originally published June 10, 2016 at 2:06 PM with the headline "Former Wichita State pitching coach Brent Kemnitz used the mind to win the battle on the mound."