BOB UECKER

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

I think my top salary was maybe in 1966. I made $17,000 and 11 of that came from selling other players' equipment.

I was acting when I was playing baseball.

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

I just grew the hair on my back. Facial hair just wasn't appealing to me. I liked it on my back, though.

You throw batting practice, you warm up pitchers, you sit and cheer. You do whatever you have to do to stay on the team.

How do you catch a knuckleball? You wait until it stops rolling, then go pick it up.

I used to soak my mitts in a bucket of water for about two days. Then I'd put a couple of baseballs in the pocket and wrap it up with a rubber band. Today you don't have to do that, because catchers' mitts are more like first baseman's gloves.

I had been playing for a while, and I asked Louisville Slugger to send me a dozen flame treated bats. But when I got it, I realized they had sent me a box of ashes.

Where would I be without baseball? Who am I without baseball?

You know, I was once named Minor League Player of the Year... unfortunately, I had been in the majors for two years at the time.

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

The biggest thrill a ballplayer can have is when your son takes after you. That happened when my Bobby was in his championship Little League game. He really showed me something. Struck out three times. Made an error that lost the game. Parents were throwing things at our car and swearing at us as we drove off. Gosh, I was proud.

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.

Not bragging by any means, but I could have done a lot of other stuff as far as working in films go and working in television... I had chances to do that stuff, but I like baseball, I really do.

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.

We were on for six years. We were in syndication for a while. It had its run. I still see the people from 'Mr. Belvedere,' too. We stay in touch.

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.

People have asked me a lot of times, because I didn't hit a lot, how long a dozen bats would last me. Depending on the weight and model I was using at that time - I would say eight to 10 cookouts.

Sporting goods companies pay me not to endorse their products.

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

Before broadcasting for 50-some years, I did TV, played 10 years in the big leagues, won a world championship - and played a big part in that, too, letting the Cardinals inject me with hepatitis. Takes a big man to do that.

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.

Hey, I think it's easy for guys to hit .300 and stay in the big leagues. Hit .200 and try to stick around as long as I did; I think it's a much greater accomplishment. That's hard.

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?