I can honestly say it took two full years for me to get over the fact that I was no longer a baseball player.

And to play as long as I did and to have a family you have to be very blessed and I was with my wife Ruth. Ruth, I appreciate the job you did, and my three fine children, Reid, Reese, and Wendy.

I cant think of anything more humiliating than losing a ballgame to a guy who steals home on you. It happened to me one time against Kansas City. I had a 2-2 count on the hitter - and Amos Otis broke from third. The pitch was a ball and slid in safe. I felt like a nickel.

When I had dyslexia, they didn't diagnose it as that. It was frustrating and embarrassing. I could tell you a lot of horror stories about what you feel like on the inside.

For my children, they spent 15 to 20 years of their life in baseball. And Ruth and I spent so many years of our married life that that was our life. We knew nothing else.

And that's what makes this a great game, is the support and the commitment that the fans give the game.

You've got to realize that in any competition there is always a winner and loser. When it turns out that you're the loser on a given day, you can be a graceful loser, but it doesn't mean that you're a loser in the sense that you're willing to accept losses readily. Concede that on that day you weren't the best and that you were beaten in competition. But that should make you more dedicated and hard working. It's wrong to accept defeat as a loser. Be graceful about losing, but don't accept it.