The thing I really liked about Mickey was the way he treated everyone the same.

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

I always loved the game, but when my legs weren't hurting it was a lot easier to love.

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.

When I hit a home run I usually didn't care where it went. So long as it was a home run was all that mattered.

It was the single greatest feat I ever saw.

Today's Little Leaguers, and there are millions of them each year, pick up how to hit and throw and field just by watching games on TV. By the time they're out of high school, the good ones are almost ready to play professional ball.