I would use sport as an escape from the pain of what was real. Instead of dealing with the pain, instead of being honest about the pain, instead of asking for help - if I had to do it differently, I would do it differently in that regard.

You never go into a season thinking you're going to strike out 200 guys or that you would have the most double-digit strikeout games in the big leagues, or anything like that. You just try to win, and the outing becomes what the outing becomes.

I think what motivated me was just hope. Something inside of me, deep down in my guts, always felt like there was something in there.

I've worked for everything I've ever got and it's worked out. Even if I was the Cy Young Award winner I still would not want to feel that sense of entitlement. I would still treat every game like it's my very first game and my very last game.

I had a wife that did not want me to have a singular regret about chasing my dream, which helped me tremendously. I did not want to have a singular regret. I always held out hope that it was going to turn for the better. That's always what motivated me was hope.

The more I grew as a human being, the better I became at my craft.

In an unhealthy way, I found a lot of validity in having always been a very good athlete, a very good baseball player, and I've since grown out of that place into a different perspective and learned how to live differently, thankfully, where baseball is certainly something that's very important to me. It's not who I am, though. It's just what I do.