Where do you want it?

In Brooklyn, it was as though you were in your own little bubble. You were all part of one big, but very close family, and the Dodgers were the main topic of everybody's conversations and you could sense the affection people had for you. I don't know that such a thing exists anymore.

I hate all hitters. I start a game mad and I stay that way until it's over.

Some of these guys wear beards to make them look intimidating, but they don't look so tough when they have to deliver the ball. Their abilities and their attitudes don't back up their beards.

A torn rotator cuff is a cancer for a pitcher and if a pitcher gets a badly torn one, he has to face the facts, it's all over baby.

When we played, World Series checks meant something. Now all they do is screw up your taxes.

The pitcher has to find out if the hitter is timid. And if the hitter is timid, he has to remind the hitter he's timid.

It's a bottom line business where a lot of gray suits are brought in and then, within two years, these guys suddenly know everything about baseball.

My own little rule was two for one. If one of my teammates got knocked down, then I knocked down two on the other team.