I can't remember a major league game where I could make eye contact with my dad. I kept wondering if he was going to yell at me for hanging a pitch or something.

I have far too many skeletons in my closet to think about any sort of serious mention of public office.

I was a professional baseball player from the time I was drafted out of high school in 1981 until the time I retired in 2003.

I love being out there on the mound with the ball in my hand. I can control the game. I'm out there. No clock - nothing happens until I throw that thing. Nothing happens. I love that feeling.

We played hard and we partied hard. I'm not ashamed of that. I was no angel - I did some things I shouldn't have done, lived a lifestyle I shouldn't have lived. I had a blast at times; other times, I probably compromised my job, my duty to do my job, to be ready as a professional.

Im a finesse pitcher without the finesse.

I think I rushed and I needed more time with my comeback. I needed more time to get my legs stronger to be able to handle the workload. You can only train for that by pitching innings. You can't simulate pitching off a mound in a game inside a weight room.