Top 15 Sandy Koufax Quotes

I was known for my fastball and curve and did well with just those two pitches, but people don't know that I tried to add a third pitch, any third pitch. For a long time, I tried to learn the changeup. The Dodgers taught the changeup in a certain way - it was the Dodgers' changeup - and I tried to learn it for ten years but never got the hang of it. I never liked my changeup, and I never wanted to throw it. One day, I was playing catch and started to fool around with the forkball, and it felt more comfortable to me. I said, "Well, I'm gonna try this instead of the changeup." So I started to throw it, but I only used it occasionally in games, because I didn't throw it hard enough.I also threw the slider a couple of times. I threw the slider to Henry Aaron and Roberto Clemente, because I figured if it worked on those two great hitters, then I had something there. So I threw it to Aaron and almost hit him in the face. He reached out to get it, and it came right at him. And I threw it to Clemente. You may remember that in Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, there was a light tower by where they used to park the batting cage. Halfway up. there was a bunch of transformers. Well, Clemente hit it off a transformer. I said, "Well, maybe I don't have a slider," and I gave it up. So, I never came up with a third pitch.

You've got to be lucky to pitch a no-hitter, and if you have good stuff, it's easier to be lucky.

Show me a guy who can't pitch inside and I'll show you a loser.

The game has a cleanness. If you do a good job, the numbers say so. You don't have to ask anyone or play politics. You don't have to wait for the reviews.

I became a good pitcher when I stopped trying to make them miss the ball and started trying to make them hit it.

Pitching is the art of instilling fear, making the man flinch by making him look for the wrong pitch. You're trying to control his instincts. But if your control is suspect like Ryan's is, and the thought of being hit is in the batter's mind, you'll go a long way.

Last year wasn't Seaver's kind of year, but he's still an impressive pitcher, still strong. Like McLain, Marichal and Gibson, he has the good stuff and control. I mean he can make an excellent fastball or curve and throw it in good spots. A guy who throws what he intends to throw—that's the definition of a good pitcher.

The only time I really try for a strikeout is when I'm in a jam. If the bases are loaded with none out, for example, then I'll go for a strikeout. But most of the time I try to throw to spots. I try to get them to pop up or ground out. On a strikeout I might have to throw five or six pitches, sometimes more if there are foul-offs. That tires me. So I just try to get outs. That's what counts — outs. You win with outs, not strikeouts.

If I could straighten it out, I'd be pitching at Dodger Stadium tonight instead of playing golf.

Mays always told me how hard it was to get a hit off me and every time I looked up, he was on second base. Yet, even with Mays, I had an idea what to do. When I pitched to Clemente and Aaron, I had no idea. They seemed to hit everything.

I don’t know if cortisone is good for you or not. But to take a shot every other ball game is more than I wanted to do and to walk around with a constant upset stomach because of the pills and to be high half the time during a ball game because you’re taking painkillers … I don’t want to have to do that [...] I don't regret one minute of the last 12 years but I think I would regret the one year that was too many.

I don't regret one minute of the twelve years I've spent in baseball, but I could regret one season too many. [...] I've got a lot of years to live after baseball and I would like to live them with complete use of my body.

Maury had been made captain in the first week of spring training, a title which usually entitles its bearer to carry the lineup card to the umpires and draw an extra $500 on his salary. Maury took it seriously, and his leadership had a strong, cohesive effect. [...] Maury has become a dominant figure in our locker room. He has come to believe that there is nothing he cannot do if he sets his mind to it. There is something almost mystical in his belief in himself, especially when you remember that he came to us after nine full years in the minors with all the uncertainties of the fringe player hoping to hold on.

It is a curious thing that while a home-run hitter is expected to fatten up in the routs, and the pitchers are certainly not supposed to let up, the opposing team becomes furious when a base is stolen after a game is apparently out of reach. Particularly the manager. The theory seems to be that the stolen base is somehow extraneous to the game, that it is an extra effort, a thumbing of the nose. Not on our team it isn't. Stealing bases is Maury's game, and—to a sometimes alarming extent—it was the Dodgers' offense. Maury's game is to get the other team upset, to get them into a frame of mind where they are so eager not to let him show them up that the catcher throws the ball too hastily and the fielder rushes his tag. Result: the hasty throw is off the mark and the infielder neglects to wait for the ball. Maury's game is called Panic!

Roberto Clemente hit an outside fastball that was still rising when it hit against the light tower in left center field, 450 feet away from home plate. And on a 1-2 pitch at that. But there is no such thing as a good pitch to Clemente. Ask me how to pitch to Clemente, and I will tell you with complete confidence, "How do I know?" Roberto can hit any pitch, anywhere, at any time. He'll hit pitchouts, he'll hit brush-back pitches. He'll hit high, inside pitches deep to the opposite field, which would be ridiculous even if he didn't do it with both feet off the ground.