Freddie Freeman's batting practice sessions, by his own admission, are the most boring in baseball. He does nothing but hit line drives into left field, over and over. Picture a slicing liner that barely clears the glove of a leaping shortstop and you'll get the idea of each ball's trajectory. And now picture this happening repeatedly, with metronomic precision, every swing the same, and you'll get an idea of its meditative quality. It's like watching someone casually paint a wall, each brushstroke traveling the same distance.
The swing itself, though, is a marvel of architectural efficiency, constructed from the ground up.