The first year was weird. I knew I was just there to talk to pitchers and not step on any toes. I could feel my adrenaline start to flow in about the sixth inning. I had to tell myself, "What the hell are you getting excited about? You're not going anywere, big boy. Just go sign some autographs. " I was still programmed.
The Yankees, you see, they're a money team, they're the class of baseball. You don't ever bet against that.
Bill Dickey is learning me his experience.
Scarlett's mind went back through the years to the still hot noon at Tara when grey smoke curled above a blue-clad body and Melanie stood at the top of the stairs with Charles' sabre in her hand. Scarlett remembered that she had thought at the time: 'How silly! Melly couldn't even heft that sword!' But now she knew that had the necessity arisen, Melanie would have charged down those stairs and killed the Yankee - or been killed herself.
He's a smart-assed kid who's always sassin' people and gettin' away with it.
Irabu is a fat, pus-y toad.
Twenty years ago rooting for the Yankees was like rooting for IBM.
The problem was money and the indignities of life without it. Every stroller, cell phone, Yankees cap, and SUV he saw was a torment. He wasn't covetous, he wasn't envious. But without money he was hardly a man.
He's in a rut. Gehringer goes two for five on opening day and stays that way all season.
Yeah? For what paper?
At nighttime, you just try to keep him out of jail.
The players get no respect around here. They (the Yankees) give you money, that's it, not respect. We get constantly dogged and players from other teams love to see that. That's why nobody wants to play here.
When you sign on to do a job, you hope you'll be able to get it done. But that's not always in your control.
Because there'd be two languages I couldn't speak, French and English.
[Yankees] are pretty much like southerners except with worse manners, of course, and terrible accents.
Once when the Yankee's Lou Pinella was batting he questioned a Palermo strike call. Pinella demanded, "Where was that pitch at?" Palermo told him that a man wearing Yankee pinstripes in front of 30,000 people should not end a sentence with a preposition. So Pinella, no dummy, said, "OK, where was that pitch at, asshole?"
There's nobody on my ball club that doesn't go from first to third on a base hit, or from second to home. Every time you steal a base, you're taking a gamble on getting thrown out, and taking the bat out of the hitter's hand.
You know it as soon as you walk in Yankee Stadium. The electricity is there every time, every day.
Yankee Stadium, it's like everything else in this country. In Europe, they save all their old buildings for history. Here, we just tear them all down.
In the building I live in on Park Avenue there are ten people who could buy the Yankees, but none of them could hit the ball out of Yankee Stadium.