Every day I went to the ballpark in Yankee Stadium as well as on the road people were on my back. The last six years in the American League were mental hell for me. I was drained of all my desire to play baseball.
You hit home runs not by chance but by preparation.
Maybe I'm not a great man but I damn well want to break the record.
It would have been a helluva lot more fun if I had not hit those sixty-one home runs.
It's like obituaries, when you die they finally give you good reviews.
I feel that I was a good all-around player, I had good speed, a good arm and could play the outfield.
As a ballplayer, I would be delighted to do it again. As an individual, I doubt if I could possibly go through it again.
Now they talk on the radio about the record set by Ruth, and DiMaggio and Henry Aaron. But they rarely mention mine. Do you know what I have to show for the sixty-one home runs? Nothing, exactly nothing.
I think the most privacy I had was when the game was going on.
I don't know if I want to go to New York. They'll have to pay me a lot more money because I like it here in Kansas City.
I don't want to be Babe Ruth. He was a great ballplayer. I'm not trying to replace him. The record is there and damn right I want to break it, but that isn't replacing Babe Ruth.
It's a business. If I could make more money down in the zinc mines I'd be mining zinc.