Carter on the field prior to Game 1 of the 2008 Golden Baseball League Championship Series.
April 8, 1954|
Culver City, California
|Died: February 16, 2012
Palm Beach Gardens, Florida
It's kind of a tradition that you get a rookie, put him in the middle, wrap your arms and legs around him, then douse him with everything you can get a hold of – shaving cream, ketchup, mustard, everything. It's kind of like a pie in the face after a guy is successful.
I remember many a time, going into someplace like Wrigley Field – where you could cut the humidity with a knife – and playing a doubleheader. I loved to play the game. It didn't matter if it was a doubleheader, or a single game, or a day game after a night game. I wanted to play.
I like mellow music. I like some jazz. But I'm not a big hard rock guy.
To be 49 years old now and still be called The Kid, that's kind of special.
That's what every young kid thinks about when they first put on a uniform – is to play in the Major League and then, ultimately, play in a World Series. To me, that was the ultimate, winning in '86.
There were probably a few games I played where I should not have played, because of some nagging injuries or something. I used to always talk the managers into playing me, because I wanted to play so badly.
My desires are simply I love to teach, I love to be in uniform, I love to throw batting practice, I love to be with the kids.
I would love to get back to the big leagues as a coach, possibly a manager. I would love that opportunity.
I got that nickname my first spring training camp with the Expos in 1974. Tim Foli, Ken Singleton and Mike Jorgensen started calling me 'Kid' because I was trying to win every sprint. I was trying to hit every pitch out of the park.
I tried the broadcasting thing, the coaching thing, but I'll never replace the competitive feeling of being out on the field when we were players.