When I Went To Brooklyn In 1948

Baseball Is A Spirited Race Of Man Against Man, Reflex Against Reflex. A Game Of Inches. Every Skill Is Measured. Every Heroic, Every Failing Is Seen And Cheered, Or Booed. And Then Becomes A Statistic.

I Had A Job To Do, And I Did It All These Years To The Best Of My Ability. That's What I'd Like To Leave Behind As I Finish My Final Game In Toronto.

I Deeply Appreciate The People Of Michigan. I Love Their Grit. I Love The Way They Face Life. I Love The Family Values They Have.

I've Found That If You Wear A Beret, People Think You're Either A Cabdriver Or A Producer Of Dirty Movies.

Wheaties Was The Big Sponsor In Those Days (1940s). They Sponsored Almost All The Baseball Games In The Majors And The Minors. That Was A Lot Of Wheaties. I Think There Were Twenty-four Boxes In A Case And Some Of These Guys Were Hitting Twenty-five And Thirty Home Runs A Season. We Had A Dog In Those Days Named Blue Grass And The Players Used To Give Us Their Wheaties For Him. Blue Grass Loved Wheaties And So Did I.