I thought I raised a ballplayer. You're nothing but a coward and a quitter.
His fielding leaves you wondering. Then he steps up to hit and all doubts start to fade.
Bravery is a complicated thing to describe. You can't say it's three feet long and two feet wide and that it weighs four hundred pounds or that it's colored bright blue or that it sounds like a piano or that it smells like roses. It's a quality, not a thing.
Thank God for baseball.
Every time I see his name (Dean Chance) on a lineup card, I feel like throwing up.
Hitting the ball was easy. Running around the bases was the tough part.