“My only worry was that he didn’t throw me a sinker.”

He threw a lot of strikes, worked it inside and out, threw breaking balls for strikes behind in the count.

I’m not perfect. Nobody’s perfect.

No more excuses about being young.

Byrd has always been that kind of pitcher.

2004 has to be my year. No more excuses.

He threw hard, but a good fastball.

I work hard on my defense.

When you go to home plate with a lot of confidence,

I want to be consistent from the first day of the season to the last.

I love hitting-that’s my favorite part of the game.

I’m an immigrant myself.

I don’t like to play slow or softly.

You feel that you can hit any pitch.

I’m confident, but not so confident that I’m cocky.

It’s something I take pride in, but it’s nothing that I want to brag about. It’s part of my game.

Trying to trick you, keep the ball low, in and out.

I tend to not want to do that anymore. It’s not even that I don’t like it anymore: it’s that I keep trying to find ways for people to dislike me.

You know that old saying, ‘A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ – that’s me.

Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.

Life was a funny thing that happened to me on the way to the grave.

Oh, it takes a lot for me to walk out of a film.

I never learned from a man who agreed with me.

Music was the one thing that was just mine, and no one could take it from me. I created it, dictated it, and it made me not able to let go of it.

I have a strong sense of myself. That gives me a sense of security, you know?