I played seven years without ever hitting the ball.

I don't know why, but for some reason I seem to be more popular now than when I was playing.

I wanted to throw my glass at the TV.

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.

Every time I see his name (Dean Chance) on a lineup card, I feel like throwing up.

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.

You don't have to talk to me about pensions. I won't be around long enough to collect one.