Ruth in 1920
|Outfielder / Pitcher|
February 6, 1895|
|Died: August 16, 1948
Manhattan, New York City
Don't ever forget two things I'm going to tell you. One, don't believe everything that's written about you. Two, don't pick up too many checks.
All ballplayers should quit when it starts to feel as if all the baselines run uphill.
All I can tell them is pick a good one and sock it. I get back to the dugout and they ask me what it was I hit and I tell them I don't know except it looked good.
As soon as I got out there I felt a strange relationship with the pitcher's mound. It was as if I'd been born out there. Pitching just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Striking out batters was easy.
Gee, its lonesome in the outfield. It's hard to keep awake with nothing to do.
Reading isn't good for a ballplayer. Not good for his eyes. If my eyes went bad even a little bit I couldn't hit home runs. So I gave up reading.
The way a team plays as a whole determines its success. You may have the greatest bunch of individual stars in the world, but if they don't play together, the club won't be worth a dime.
I learned early to drink beer, wine and whiskey. And I think I was about 5 when I first chewed tobacco.
I won't be happy until we have every boy in America between the ages of six and sixteen wearing a glove and swinging a bat.
I'll promise to go easier on drinking and to get to bed earlier, but not for you, fifty thousand dollars, or two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars will I give up women. They're too much fun.
Who is richer? The man who is seen, but cannot see? Or the man who is not being seen, but can see?
I didn't mean to hit the umpire with the dirt, but I did mean to hit that bastard in the stands.
If it wasn't for baseball, I'd be in either the penitentiary or the cemetery.
If I'd just tried for them dinky singles I could've batted around .600.
I had only one superstition. I made sure to touch all the bases when I hit a home run.