I'd never show up a pitcher by standing in the batters box and watching how far the ball goes like a lot of players do now. But it made me feel good to know I could hit a ball longer than anyone else. It tickled the hell out of me. It was like playing in a golf tournament and hearing all the ohhs and ahhs when you hit a good drive. I mean, every time I swung at it I was trying to hit it longer than the time before. I'm sure that was why I struck out so much, but I'd get a kick out of it. Poor Casey would get so mad. He'd say, "Hey butcher boy, just make contact." But he couldn't get me to change. In fact, Whitey told me just last year that I'd shut my eyes just before I lunged.
American baseball player (1931–1995)
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That would be Sandy Koufax, even though he was in the National League and I didn't have to face him very much. Among American League lefties I'd have to pick Herb Score before he got hurt. From the right side, no question: Dick Radatz of the Red Sox. I once read in a Dallas newspaper that he struck me out 45 times. If he wasn't the toughest, I don't want to remember who was.
If we were choosing sides and every player was in the pool, my first pick would be Whitey Ford and my second would be Ted Williams. Beyond that there would be just too many and I'd be afraid of leaving somebody out. Besides, with Whitey on the mound and Williams in the lineup, we'd still beat just about anybody.
No one hit the ball harder than Frank Howard. He was the strongest I ever saw. I saw him hit a line drive off Whitey Ford at the stadium that Whitey actually jumped for, it was hit that low. It ended up hitting the speakers behind the monuments in dead center. I told Whitey later that it was lucky he didn't catch it because it would have drug him to death."
I feel better than I have in years—no leg problems at all. But if I'm to get three more home runs, I'm afraid I'll have to get them right-handed. I don't know what's the matter. I've lost my confidence from that side. I've always been a better right-handed hitter than left, but it wasn't until recently that I really got into a left-handed slump. I just don't seem able to pull the trigger, hitting left-handed. I have no excuse for it. It's not my legs or anything. The ball just gets up to me before I know it.
He was like a father to me, and I mean that. My dad died after I had been with the Yankees a year and I guess Casey felt it was up to him to bring me up right. He kept me when I wasn't ready for the big leagues. He had confidence in me. He taught me to think, to play hard from the first pitch to the last.