Somebody once asked me if I ever went up to the plate trying to hit a home run. I said, 'Sure, every time.'
After I hit a home run I had a habit of running the bases with my head down. I figured the pitcher already felt bad enough without me showing him up rounding the bases.
Hitting the ball was easy. Running around the bases was the tough part.
In 1961 somebody could've hit a home run to win the game and the next day the headline was about the M&M boys not hitting a home run. But everyone was real good about it. Instead of getting mad they joked about it.
The hardest thing to do in sports, I think, is to hit a home run.
Casey didn't easily forgive a guy who got doubled up on a hit-and-run play. He didn't see any reason why the runner couldn't take a quick glance back toward the plate to make sure the ball was hit safely.
You might as well go in and start getting dressed. I'm going to hit his first pitch for a home run.
He can run, steal bases, throw, hit for average, and hit with power like I've never seen. Just don't put him at shortstop.
When I hit a home run I usually didn't care where it went. So long as it was a home run was all that mattered.
This year I'd rather lead the league in home runs, runs batted in and hitting.
