The fall of 1912 my fielding was above the average, but my hitting was not so good. However, I was the talk of the town because of my peculiar way of catching a fly ball. They later named it the Vest-Pocket Catch.

For a quarter of a century, I've been playing baseball for pay. It has been pretty good pay, most of the time. The work has been hard, but what of it? It's been risky. I've broken both my legs. I've sprained everything I've got between my ankles and my disposition. I've dislocated my joints and fractured my pride.

We like to catch up on what's going on. We talk about what's going on in town and how many times Audrey's been to Macy's this week.

He's got a gift for catching the ball. That's just a phenomenal catch. You're going to see a lot of that. He's the kind of guy that's going to have plays on ESPN. He's that kind of player.

Nobody gets any fun out of baseball any more. I guess a kid's crazy not to be serious about it when he's drawing down $20,000 or $30,000 a year, and any smart-aleck gag you try may be your last. But what's life without a laugh?

I've spent more time in hospitals than some fellows ever spend in church.