Walter Johnson's fastball looked about the size of a watermelon seed and it hissed at you as it passed.

Walter Johnson's fastball looked about the size of a watermelon seed and it hissed at you as it passed.

The great trouble with baseball today is that most of the players are in the game for the money and that's it, not for the love of it, the excitement of it, the thrill of it.

I never could stand losing. Second place didn't interest me. I had a fire in my belly.

The base paths belonged to me, the runner. The rules gave me the right. I always went into a bag full speed, feet first. I had sharp spikes on my shoes. If the baseman stood where he had no business to be and got hurt, that was his fault.

The best recommendation for an umpire in the old days was: "He licked somebody in the Three-I League. He ought to do.

The first time I faced him I watched him take that easy windup and then something went past me that made me flinch. The thing just hissed with danger. We couldn't touch him... Every one of us knew we'd met the most powerful arm ever turned loose in a ball park.