After I hit a home run I had a habit of running the bases with my head down. I figured the pitcher already felt bad enough without me showing him up rounding the bases.

Don't do as I did. I'm living proof of how not to live.

Well, baseball was my whole life. Nothing's ever been as fun as baseball.

I wanted to throw my glass at the TV.

I expected him to say, 'Hang in there' or something like that. It took me an hour to talk him into giving me another chance!

I don't care what the situation was, how high the stakes were - the bases could be loaded and the pennant riding on every pitch, it never bothered Whitey. He pitched his game. Cool. Craft. Nerves of steel.

He can run, steal bases, throw, hit for average, and hit with power like I've never seen. Just don't put him at shortstop.