The true harbinger of spring is not crocuses or swallows returning to Capistrano, but the sound of the bat on the ball.

The true harbinger of spring is not crocuses or swallows returning to Capistrano, but the sound of the bat on the ball.

This is a game to be savored, not gulped. There's time to discuss everything between pitches or between innings.

Every baseball crowd, like every theatre audience, has its own distinctive attitude and atmosphere.

Baseball is a boy's game that makes grown men cry.

I was in the game for love. After all, where else can an old-timer with one leg, who can't hear or see, live like a king while doing the only thing I wanted to do?

People identify with the swashbuckling individuals, not polite little men who field their position well. Sir Galahad had a big following - but I'll bet Lancelot had more.