A team is where a boy can prove his courage on his own. A gang is where a coward goes to hide.
Somebody once asked me if I ever went up to the plate trying to hit a home run. I said, ‘Sure, every time.’
During my 18 years I came to bat almost 10,000 times. I struck out about 1,700 times and walked maybe 1,800 times. You figure a ballplayer will average about 500 at bats a season. That means I played seven years without ever hitting the ball.
After I hit a home run I had a habit of running the bases with my head down. I figured the pitcher already felt bad enough without me showing him up rounding the bases.
Well, baseball was my whole life. Nothing’s ever been as fun as baseball.
I leaned on him for support when I got out of the cab, and he just crumpled to the ground. That’s how we found out.
All the ballparks and the big crowds have a certain mystique. You feel attached, permanently wedded to the sounds that ring out, to the fans chanting your name, even when there are only four or five thousand in the stands on a Wednesday afternoon.
It’s unbelievable how much you don’t know about the game you’ve been playing all your life.
He who has the fastest golf cart never has a bad lie.
I thought I raised a ballplayer. You’re nothing but a coward and a quitter.
You never have to wait long, or look far, to be reminded of how thin the line is between being a hero or a goat.
My dad taught me to switch-hit. He and my grandfather, who was left-handed, pitched to me every day after school in the back yard. I batted lefty against my dad and righty against my granddad.
Don’t do as I did. I’m living proof of how not to live.
I always loved the game, but when my legs weren’t hurting it was a lot easier to love.
No man in the history of baseball had as much power as. No man.
Hitting the ball was easy. Running around the bases was the tough part.