You know how hard it is to play the game from game to game, at-bat to at-bat, so many things can change.
Man, it literally starts from after the game. I get every at-bat sent to me from the game. I'll go home, I'll watch every at-bat, kind of break down the game, kind of see, OK, what did I do? Why'd I miss this pitch? Why'd I hit that pitch?
It's not really part of the game to say, 'Oh, it's a batter's game; it's a batter's game' - I don't know why it goes on. It's a beautiful game that's greatly competitive between bat and ball.
A lot of the lads have a bat for the nets, a bat for facing the bowling machine and a separate bat for the match. I'll just crack on with a bat until it breaks - then crack on with another one.
I think competing gets overlooked sometimes. The competitiveness that you bring to a game and an at-bat, it can go a long way. It really can.
When I look at someone like Andrew Symonds, I see a player who has done phenomenally well with the bat, as his record shows. He certainly has the ability to be a very good all-rounder, but I think to be a great one, you need to be able to turn a game with the bat or the ball.
You can't see the bat hit the ball if you're generating any bat speed. If you're just laying the bat through the strike zone, sure, maybe.
One game, one pitch can change everything for a hitter. The way I like to approach it is that every at-bat is its own unique opportunity to go out there and do something really good.
I think the idea of having a game based on reality is compelling right off the bat because everyone has some experience with the subject of the game.
When you win the toss - bat. If you are in doubt, think about it, then bat. If you have very big doubts, consult a colleague then bat.
Ken Griffey changed the game, but he also represented pop culture and the youth - how he wore his hat backwards, how he swung the bat and walked off...he brought energy to the game, class to the game. He was kind of the first person I really watched. He was a big influence.
I struck out with two men on base. I was so angry, so frustrated, I turned and without even thinking about it, snapped my bat over my thigh. The bat split right in half. Afterward, reporters asked me if it was the first time I'd ever broken a bat over my thigh. "I broke an aluminum bat over my knee in college," I said. (I was just kidding).
I am an arm hitter. When you snap the bat with your wrists just as you meet the ball, you give the bat tremendous speed for a few inches of its course. The speed with which the bat meets the ball is the thing that counts.
When the ball is over the middle of the plate, the batter is hitting it with the sweet part of the bat. When it's inside, he's hitting it with the part of the bat from the handle to the trademark. When it's outside, he's hitting it with the end of the bat. You've got to keep the ball away from the sweet part of the bat. To do that, the pitcher has to move the hitter off the plate.
Omygod, I haven’t got years. I’ll have to hide in the Bat Cave.” “Once you go to the Bat Cave it’s forever, babe.” Eeek.
Young man, if that bat comes down, you're out of the game