I’d rather be lucky than good.
One rule I had was make your best pitch and back up third base. That relay might get away and you’ve got another shot at him.
I’m something like the old soak who never knew whether his wife told him to take one drink and come home at 12, or take 12 and come home at one.
You just can’t imagine the kind of guy he was without seeing him play. He was a circus, a play, a movie, all rolled into one.
When Neil Armstrong first set foot on the moon, he and all the space scientists were puzzled by an unidentifiable white object. I knew immediately what it was. That was a home run ball hit off me in 1933 by Jimmie Foxx.
I’ve got a new invention. It’s a revolving bowl for tired goldfish.