Many people still remember the antics of the once-famous Yankee manager, Billy Martin. Despite his “bad boy” demeanor, Martin was a great manager—at least when he actually managed and wasn’t kicking dirt on the umpire’s shoes or getting fired by George Steinbrenner. He was a street-smart guy who knew how to leverage an advantage from his environment.
The Wall Street Journal recently published a review of Bill Pennington’s biography Billy Martin. In the review, Buck Showalter—a later manager of the Yankees and a Martin protégé—said, “I felt like I had never seen a baseball game before…. He [Martin] taught me to have my eyes darting everywhere, looking for something to use later in the game. Take a ball that one of your guys hits into the right-center field gap. Billy said, ‘Don’t watch the ball; you know it’s going to be a double or a triple. Watch to see if the pitcher backs up third, is the fielder moving?’”
Showalter’s comment about Martin caught my pilot’s eye the moment I read it. One of Martin’s strengths was his habit of looking where everyone else wasn’t. It’s a concept that applies directly to operating an airplane in the traffic pattern.
When flying with flight review applicants, I watch where their eyeballs point when flying the latter portion of the traffic pattern.
Ninety-five percent of the time those eyes are locked on the beginning of the runway the moment the airplane turns onto base leg. On final approach, those eyes are focused on a spot a little beyond the runway threshold—nearly 100 percent of the time.
Isn’t this a great disposition to have if you want to exchange paint with another airplane in the pattern? I’m thinking specifically about another airplane turning from base leg to final approach (the final approach segment you’re presently using).
The fact is that you only need to look at the runway about 15 percent of the time while on final approach. The rest of the time (85 percent) should be spent scanning ahead, below, right, left, above, and behind you for other airplanes that want to give you some of their paint. After all, the runway doesn’t move, but airplanes—other airplanes in the traffic pattern—do. There’s just no practical reason at all to stare at the runway.
Keep in mind that nearly 50 percent of all midairs occur below 500 feet above ground level and within five miles of an airport. That’s another way of saying that these collisions occur on final approach, or when an airplane turns from base to final.
Can you think of a better reason to keep your eyes moving while on base and final approach? I can’t.
Just to be fair here, it’s true that there are times when it’s necessary to focus a lot of your attention on the runway. For example, when there’s not a lot of runway on which to land, you’ll probably focus more of your attention on the runway threshold.
It’s also possible that an airplane on the ground might give the appearance of inappropriately crossing or using the runway that is presently in use by you.
It’s even possible that you’ll need to monitor the runway centerline in a strong and variable crosswind to prevent drift. These are the exceptions, and not the rule, when it comes to the visual attention we dedicate to our landing runway.
Billy Martin offers a good lesson for all pilots. It’s only natural for pilots to stare at the “eye magnet” known as the runway, while on final. Instead, it’s often much safer to look where everyone else is not looking.
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