“I’m not perfect. Nobody’s perfect.”

Byrd has always been that kind of pitcher.

2004 has to be my year. No more excuses.

He threw hard, but a good fastball.

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

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 have to get better, but I can’t change the way I play.

I’d probably support it, but I can’t do much.

I had chances to do that stuff, but I like baseball, I really do.

Any teammate of mine that had a kid and a boy that was capable of playing baseball.

Baseball hasn’t forgotten me. I go to a lot of old-timers games and I haven’t lost a thing. I sit in the bullpen and let people throw things at me. Just like old times.

After getting out of the service and going into baseball I never wanted to do anything else.

Baseball, more than any other sport, has a magical way of connecting fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, grandparents and grandchildren and ancestors back down the line. – From The Brooklyn Nine

It is decidedly not true that “nice guys finish last,” as that highly original American baseball philosopher, Leo Durocher, was alleged to have said.

I love to play tennis and golf, listen to music, watch baseball and root for the Redskins.

I wanted to be a baseball player, naturally, but I wasn’t good enough.