At my best I was as good as anyone.

There were things that would irritate Casey, but trying too hard or getting mad at sitting on the bench weren't among them.

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

All the ballparks and the big crowds have a certain mystique. You feel attached, permanently wedded to the sounds that ring out, to the fans chanting your name, even when there are only four or five thousand in the stands on a Wednesday afternoon.

Those people don't know how tough that really was.

I can't play any more. I can't hit the ball when I need to. I can't steal second when I need to. I can't go from first to third when I need to. I can't score from second when I need to. I have to quit.

After a play in the field Casey would turn (to the players on the bench) and say 'What did he do wrong?' or 'You're better than that guy.' Either way, he'd keep them from getting stale.