Honestly, right now, I don't want to be around baseball. Not that I don't like it. But I'm having fun right here, hanging around my family and watching my kids' games.

It's nice to finally be able to wake up and tie my shoes without feeling like I'm about to tip over, or walk a straight line without feeling dizzy, or be able to feel my left arm. That means a lot more to me.

I was a guy who came to work every day. I was there. When my manager got to the field at 12, I felt like there was no reason for him to ever wonder if I was playing. For me, that's a big deal. I teach that to my kids.

It's easier for me to accept that I can't play anymore because I literally gave it all I got. That allows me to be a little bit more at peace.

Obviously, I think this [162 games a year four times] caused my early retirement, but I couldn't do it any other way. Just for the record, I never asked for any of the days off in my career.

When I was playing, my wife and kids would go on the road with me, and we would go to different lunch spots that we saw on "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives."

Obviously I wasn't playing well at the time. But as a player, you lie to yourself. You say, "There's nothing wrong. I'm just not on time [at the plate]." You make something else up because pain is not an option.