Sure, women sportswriters look when they’re in the clubhouse. Read their stories. How else do you explain a capital letter in the middle of a word?

Anybody with ability can play in the big leagues. But to be able to trick people year in and year out the way I did, I think that was a much greater feat.

Sure, women sportswriters look when they’re in the clubhouse. Read their stories. How else do you explain a capital letter in the middle of a word?

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.

In 1962 I was named Minor League Player of the Year. It was my second season in the bigs.

The way to catch a knuckleball is to wait until it stops rolling and then pick it up.

When I looked at the third base coach, he turned his back on me.

If a guy hits .300 every year, what does he have to look forward to? I always tried to stay around .190, with three or four RBI. And I tried to get them all in September. That way I always had something to talk about during the winter.

I set records that will never be equaled. In fact, I hope 90% of them don’t even get printed.

Let’s face it. Umpiring is not an easy or happy way to make a living. In the abuse they suffer, and the pay they get for it, you see an imbalance that can only be explained by their need to stay close to a game they can’t resist.

I didn’t get a lot of awards as a player. But they did have a Bob Uecker Day Off for me once in Philly.

I had slumps that lasted into the winter.

Sporting goods companies pay me not to endorse their products.

When I came up to bat with three men on and two outs in the ninth, I looked in the other team’s dugout and they were already in street clothes.

I knew when my career was over. In 1965 my baseball card came out with no picture.