Carl Furillo was pure ballplayer. In his prime he stood six feet tall and weighed 190 pounds and there was a fluidity to his frame you seldom see, among such sinews. His black hair was thick, and tightly curled. His face was strong and smooth. He had the look of a young indomitable centurion ... I cannot imagine Carl Furillo in his prime as anything other than a ballplayer. Right field in Brooklyn was his destiny.

You need that pride in yourself, as well as a sense, when you are sitting on Page 297 of a book, that the book is going to be read, that somebody is going to care. You can't ever be sure about that, but you need the sense that it's important, that it's not typing; it's writing.

Boxing is smoky halls and kidneys battered until they bleed.

Baseball is for the leisurely afternoons of summer and for the unchanging dreams.

Robinson did not merely play at center stage. He was center stage; and wherever he walked, center stage moved with him.

Horse racing is animated roulette.

Tennis and golf are best played, not watched.