I know I've got a lock on the Dutch Hall of Fame.

I love baseball. I love watching baseball. As a broadcaster, I get to watch the best 700 players put on the uniform year after year. That, to me, is exciting.

The best thing about the New Year is your 4.90 ERA disappears and starts back at zero.

The 16 years have gone so fast. I came to Minnesota as a 19-year-old kid. Marv Grissom was the pitching coach, an old-timer who taught me quite a bit. Marv didn't like the way I stepped toward the plate. I had a tendency to throw across my body. So, he took me off to the side at Met Stadium and put a chair on the mound. If I threw across my body, I would step on the chair. Marv was trying to hurt me. I fooled him. I started stepping the right way.

Getting into the Hall of Fame won't change me. I'm still going to pass gas and pick my nose like I always do.

I want to stay around longer than the pitchers who were at the top when I came into the big leagues. I don't want to be gone and have all the old guys - Seaver, Carlton, Ryan and Sutton - still pitching. I got rid of Palmer, now I want to outlast the rest of them.

One curve I'll always remember was when I was pitching for Pittsburgh. Terry Kennedy was a young player with St. Louis. I threw him an 0-2 curve and it snapped. Terry's reaction was to swing straight down, like he was chopping the plate with an axe. It was the last out of the inning. After I ran off the mound, I looked over at the St. Louis dugout. There were players rolling around on the floor, laughing. Poor Terry. I'll have to admit that was a hell of a curveball.