The only way I'm going to win a Gold Glove is with a can of spray paint.

The only difference between me and those other great Yankees is my skin color.

When I went to home plate in a game-tied situation or with a chance to do something and help the ballclub win one, I'd try to make eye contact with the pitcher.

I knew I was going home the whole way, [I] just couldn't get it out of my glove quick enough. I probably would have had him out with a good throw. It would have been a bang-bang play, but it just got stuck a little bit.

When I was with the Yankees in 1978, we were playing Baltimore at Yankee Stadium, and the score was 3 - 3 going into the bottom of the ninth inning. I led off against Tippy Martinez - a little left-hander who always gave me trouble - and the count went to three-and-oh.

Everybody in the league knew I had trouble with the inside pitch. I got away with it only because the great majority of pitchers were afraid of making a mistake in that spot. The threat of power is one of the best weapons you have in the batter's box.