A million years went by quick.
It’s funny. Some people remember that a lot more than I do. I remember certain parts of it, and if everybody who mentioned that to me had been to the game who said they were at the game, there’d be 800,000 people at that game, I think.
I always looked up there, because I remember a time when the only things on the walls in Fenway were the Jimmy Fund sign and the retired numbers. Never in a million years did you think you’d ever be up there with those guys.
It was just one of those moments in the universe that was mine.
And then after that, running around the bases, it was just one of those things. You couldn’t believe what happened to you. And I look back on it, it’s almost like it happened to somebody else.
I knew it was gonna go out. It was just a question of it being fair or foul. The wind must have carried it 15 feet toward the foul pole. I just stood there and watched. I didn’t want to miss seeing it go out.
If the human body recognized agony and frustration, people would never run marathons, have babies, or play baseball.
The ’70s were a time of turmoil and turnover. But I grew up here. I always wanted to play here.
It’s not what you achieve, it’s what you overcome. That’s what defines your career.