I had a lot of fear that would motivate me to try to work hard, because I didn't know what I would do if I wasn't a baseball player.

Out of sheer stubbornness, I just would keep going - just hoping that at some point something would click. I certainly held onto the hope that it might. I had no guarantees, but I trusted that if I worked hard and put in the time, it would eventually reap a fruit. I just didn't know what that fruit was going to be or how big it was going to be.

There's been this steady metamorphosis from just surviving to being a craftsman and, ultimately, the hope is to be an artist in what you do.?

The more I grew as a human being, the better I became at my craft.

Realistically, I shouldn't be able to turn a doorknob without having some discomfort.

If you aren't willing to face your demons-if you can't find the courage to take on your fear and hurt and anger-you might as well wrap them up with a bow and give them to your children. Because they will be carrying the same thing...unless you are willing to do the work

When you start a game, you don't think to yourself, well, OK, I'm going throw a one-hitter today. It just becomes an organism, your outing becomes an organism and it grows.

I can't tell you how excited I am to be a part of an organization that's committed to winning.

I would use sport as an escape from the pain of what was real. Instead of dealing with the pain, instead of being honest about the pain, instead of asking for help - if I had to do it differently, I would do it differently in that regard.

I could never get a real good clear picture of what I could become.

I think what motivated me was just hope. Something inside of me, deep down in my guts, always felt like there was something in there.

In an unhealthy way, I found a lot of validity in having always been a very good athlete, a very good baseball player, and I've since grown out of that place into a different perspective and learned how to live differently, thankfully, where baseball is certainly something that's very important to me. It's not who I am, though. It's just what I do.