I could've played basketball, but my mind was on baseball. I didn't know what I was in for. In high school it was a matter of talent. No one told you what to do.

I ate while I was taking chemo. The doctors didn't know. I really didn't get any nausea. I didn't have side effects. I would be drained for a day and a half.

You don't protect Mark McGwire. The only way to protect him is hit 70 homers yourself.

Nothing I did contributed to me having cancer, so I can't sit back and say, 'Oh why me.' Why not me? Why does tragedy always have to hit someone else?

You can't shelter it. You can't hide it. You have to let people know what you're going through, what you're feeling, what you think you have that's a problem.

Socially, it is funny. People are annoyed because, really who is a clown?.

I was disappointed in everything - my start and the team's start. People got down on me, but I never got down on myself. I still believed I could be the type of player everyone, including me, thought I was going to be.