They give you a round bat and they throw you a round ball. And they tell you to hit it square.

Throwing a knuckleball for a strike is like throwing a butterfly with hiccups across the street into your neighbor's mailbox.

I always said that when it was time to retire, I would know it, and I would just tip my hat to the crowds.

Baseball for me was instinctive, born within me, given to me as a gift from God.

I found myself in a race with Mother Nature to play as much baseball as I could before she forced me to stop.

I eventually became proud of my strikeouts, because each one represented another learning experience.

The bat is gone, but the smile remains.