Coming into a game in the eighth or ninth inning is like parachuting behind enemy lines. And sometimes the chute doesn't open. You have to live with that. It's an occupational hazard.

A manager uses a relief pitcher like a six shooter, he fires until it's empty then takes the gun and throws it at the villain.

It (his contract) has options through the year 2020 or until the last Rocky movie is made.

Someone told me just recently that poets are eulogists. It's their job, to eulogize. I didn't know that, but it makes sense. Because in almost every poem of mine there is a loss.

Natural grass is a wonderful thing for little bugs and sinkerball pitchers.

I have seen the future and it's like the present, only longer.

I don't mean to diminish the job, it's a good job and a real pressure job. But I don't think a relief pitcher should ever be the most valuable player of a league. We only play in maybe half of the games. Being a relief pitcher means part-time employment. We're bench players, and bench players shouldn't be M.V.P.