I got that nickname my first spring training camp with the Expos in 1974. Tim Foli, Ken Singleton and Mike Jorgensen started calling me 'Kid' because I was trying to win every sprint. I was trying to hit every pitch out of the park.

It's kind of a tradition that you get a rookie, put him in the middle, wrap your arms and legs around him, then douse him with everything you can get a hold of - shaving cream, ketchup, mustard, everything. It's kind of like a pie in the face after a guy is successful.

The only thing on my mind now is getting that World Series ring.

My desires are simply I love to teach, I love to be in uniform, I love to throw batting practice, I love to be with the kids.

The Baseball Hall of Fame is something every player dreams about, but being a member of God's Hall of Fame is the greatest achievement of all. God offers each of us the gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ. When we accept God's gift of salvation, our name is written in the Book of Life, guaranteeing us a place in heaven forever. I made that decision during spring training in 1973, asking Jesus to come into my heart as Lord and Savior.

It is a grueling position (catching). My knees will tell you that. I've had nine knee surgeries. I've had a couple of broken thumbs, one on each hand. I can look back at it and say it's worth it to be enshrined in Cooperstown. I don't have any pain in my knees right now.

I saw him (Barry Bonds) when he first broke in. He was a scrawny, skinny, 185-pound guy that had great talent. And then he turned himself into a freakin' power hitter with, what, 245, 250 pounds, and his head got twice the size. So, you know, you figure it out. I know he likes to go to the gym. We all like to go to the gym. You just don't get that big.