If the World Series was on the line and I could pick one pitcher to pitch the game, I'd choose Whitey Ford every time.

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.

In 1960 when Pittsburgh beat us in the World Series, we outscored them 55-27. It was the only time I think the better team lost. I was so disappointed I cried on the plane ride home.

Hey Mantle, you win. You're the worst.

They should have come out of the dugout on tippy-toes, holding hands and singing.

It's what you're worth.

After they remodeled Yankee Stadium I didn't feel that the ghosts were there anymore. It just wasn't the same.