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.
I never could stand losing. Second place didn't interest me. I had a fire in my belly.
Speed is a great asset; but it's greater when it's combined with quickness - and there's a big difference.
The way those clubs shift against Ted Williams, I can't understand how he can be so stupid not to accept the challenge to him and hit to left field.
The great American game should be an unrelenting war of nerves.
When I began playing the game, baseball was about as gentlemanly as a kick in the crotch.
