Inside the Red Sox’s Hitters Meeting Shift: Accountability, Learning, and the Next Step
About two weeks ago, The Athletic’s Jen McCaffrey reported that the Red Sox had changed how they’re running their hitters meetings. Alex Cora framed it this way: “When you sit down with the hitting coach and they ask you about the stuff of the pitcher, you better know, right? Sometimes when you sit as a group, you can hide it.”
The idea is clear: raise accountability, force preparation, make sure guys aren’t coasting through meetings without knowing what they’re actually walking into. But changing the format is just the first step—it’s how those meetings are used that determines their real value. Changing the format of a meeting doesn’t automatically change the function.
Because here’s the truth: the hitters meeting still matters. In a sport increasingly dominated by individual routines, data streams, and cage work, it’s one of the few consistent moments where a team actually sits down, looks at the same opponent, and creates a unified approach. If anything, it’s more important than ever. But that only holds true if the meeting is taught well if it’s actually being used as a learning environment, not a lecture or a quiz.
Typically, hitters meetings are coach-led, with highlighted by a focus on pitch movement, tendencies, and video clips showing how the opposing pitcher has attacked similar hitters over the course of the season. The shift the Red Sox are now making (at least in the short term) moves away from that shared approach and toward something more individualized—where players are expected to prep on their own and come ready to contribute. It’s not necessarily a bad strategy. It’s just different.
The problem with hitters meetings has never really been what information is shared—it’s how that information is delivered. Too often, coaches talk, players nod, maybe a veteran chimes in, and everyone walks out hoping they’ll remember enough when the game starts. That’s passive learning. And passive learning doesn’t hold under pressure.
The fix isn’t scrapping meetings or just calling on players more it’s better teaching. Meetings should be run like mental reps. Coaches should ask real questions:
“Where are you most likely to get attacked in a 1-1 count tonight?”
“Show me the zone you’re laying facing the starter?”
Better yet—make players diagram it. Whiteboard. Pitch locations. Group discussion. Shared understanding. You don’t get that from private prep work or handing everyone a report of tendencies. You get it by treating the meeting as a team learning opportunity and the coach as the expert guide.
That’s why Mikel Arteta’s approach with Arsenal is such a strong model—even if the sports are different. In a video clip that’s made the rounds, Arteta walks his players through an exercise where they think through and diagram their formation on the pitch. He’s not delivering a monologue. He’s asking players to actively think through where they are, what could happen, and what decisions they might need to make next. The actual content—formations, zones, tactical tweaks—is secondary. What matters is that he’s forcing players to mentally simulate game situations before they happen.
That’s the kind of thinking that makes meetings worthwhile.
This approach reflects a shift in emphasis—from shared consumption of information to personal accountability and pre-game preparation. Moves like this often come when a coaching staff is working with a younger, less experienced group—players who may not yet have built the habit of detailed game planning at the big league level. And that’s exactly what the Red Sox have right now: a younger group still learning how to prepare at this level. The structure pushes them to take ownership, to show up with a plan, and to engage more actively when the group does come together.
Of course, if a coach just stands at the front of the room talking about pitch movement or where to expect a 0-2 slider, that’s not really teaching — it’s lecturing. And even when video clips or reports are involved, the meeting can still feel like a box being checked if players aren’t actively involved. That’s where the impact starts to slip. The goal isn’t just to share information — it’s to create a setting where players are mentally preparing to compete. That only happens when the teaching invites them in.
If we want players to actually improve their decision-making, we have to engage them in the act of making decisions before the game starts. Maybe that means starting with a simple diagramming process where players draw or mark where they think they’ll get pitched based on their profile, strengths, or pitch movement profiles. Maybe it means group problem-solving. Whatever it looks like, the goal is the same: get players thinking, not just listening.
Arteta’s not just handing out answers he’s building thinkers. Baseball meetings could do the same. But only if we stop treating them like presentations and start treating them like practice.