I don't watch baseball - it's too long and boring.
I was a fan of baseball growing up. We played baseball; I used to play in an A&P parking lot. It wasn't always easy to find a good baseball field to play in.
Nowadays, they have more trouble packing hair dryers than baseball equipment.
I played all sports growing up. Baseball was always my favorite, though.
My favorite sport is baseball; my cousin is pitcher Heath Bell.
Honestly, I'm not a big fan of baseball.
I was a ballplayer, but only for a limited time. I grew up playing in Wisconsin. It's a very sports-centric part of the country that I grew up in and I played a lot of sports, but baseball first and foremost. I played through high school. I was a middle-infielder.
Nobody ever had too many of them (pitchers).
My brother Allie had this left-handed fielder's mitt. he was left handed. The thing that was descriptive about it though, was that he had poems written all over the fingers and the pocket and everywhere. In green ink. He wrote them on it so that he'd have something to read when he was in the field and nobody was up to bat
The first thing to know about playing baseball in Michigan is, Michigan's really cold.
I'd love to play in a Red Sox game. It would be so awesome to actually walk out on the field and play, just for one inning. I'd also steal everything I could get my hands on in the clubhouse, which is why they won't let me do it.
You know what I love best about baseball? The pine tar, the resin, the grass, the dirt - and that's just in the hot-dogs.
How can I play baseball when I'm worried about foreign policy?
I've had a good time here in baseball. I love baseball. That's why I'm still around.
The only thing I do to my bat is put some tape around the handle to build it up a little bit because I broke my finger about six years ago and can't really close it the way I want to. Other than that, the same bat, same Louisville Sluggers.
As we all know, Cooperstown is the home of baseball. One of the many duties of the home plate umpire is to make sure that the runner touches home. Well, if you're a true baseball fan, you need to visit Cooperstown. This is home.
High school baseball is a passion of mine.
Dad played with me a great deal, as dads should do, and our chief sport was baseball. He bought me a hardball when I was three years old, and he used to sit in a rocker on the front porch while I sat on the grass in the yard, and we'd play catch by the hour.
You have to draft a catcher, because if you don't have one, the pitch will roll all the way back to the screen.
I was doing what I love to do: play baseball. Not going to complain about that.
Your bat is your life. It's your weapon. You don't want to go into battle with anything that feels less than perfect.
I bought my son a bat for Christmas. On New Year's it flew away.
I think I had the smallest handle around. When I got my bats, I even trimmed them down. I used to scrape them. Some years later when I started getting older, I used to start with a 33 and in the summer it got down to 31 and then probably in September got down to 30.
Growing up in Bloomington, Minn., I loved the ritual of dressing for Little League - in white socks, blue stirrups, belted pants, a double-knit jersey, and the cap I'd hold over my face to screen out mosquitoes in right field.
All it takes to play baseball is a strong arm, good speed, and the coordination to hit the ball. That's it.
