A Quote by Mike Ditka

You remember what happened when Eddie Pipp got hurt? A guy named Lou Gehrig took over. — © Mike Ditka
You remember what happened when Eddie Pipp got hurt? A guy named Lou Gehrig took over.
For my books of nonfiction I write about subjects I find fascinating. I've been a Yankees and a Lou Gehrig fan for decades, so I wrote 'Lou Gehrig: The Luckiest Man.' It's more the story of his great courage than of his baseball playing. Children face all sorts of challenges, and it's my hope that some will be inspired by the courage of Lou Gehrig.
Probably the toughest time in my life was - was standing there with Ann as we hugged each other and the diagnosis came. And I was afraid it was Lou Gehrig's disease. As we came into the doctor's office, the brochures on his table there were Lou Gehrig's, ALS, and multiple sclerosis.
In 1938... the year's #1 newsmaker was not FDR, Hitler, or Mussolini. Nor was it Lou Gehrig or Clark Gable. The subject of the most newspaper column inches in 1938 wasn't even a person. It was an undersized, crooked-legged racehorse named Seabiscuit.
Hell, Lou (Gehrig) it took fifteen years to get you out of a game. Sometimes I'm out in fifteen minutes.
I honestly don't remember ever being hurt by anyone other than Conor. It probably has happened in training or a fight but I don't remember any. The only times I do remember getting hurt is by Conor. I remember most of them and it's happened many, many, many times.
I was talking to my friend and he said his girlfriend was mad at him. I said, "What happened?" He goes: "Well, I guess I, uh... I guess I said something, and, uh... and then she got her feelings hurt." That's a weird way to phrase it: "She got her feelings hurt. I said something, and then she..." Could you more remove yourself from responsibility? "She got her feelings hurt." It's like saying, "Yeah, I shot this guy in the face, and then I guess he got himself murdered. I don't know what happened. He leaned into it."
He (Lou Gehrig) just went out and did his job every day.
This is a story about a man named Eddie and it begins at the end, with Eddie dying in the sun.
Yankee Stadium, and the Yankees are so famous for Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Lou Gehrig, all of those guys.
I was always scared in the amateurs, but the minute I got in the ring it was like another person took over. I become more vicious. In there I love to hurt people. Outside I can't hurt a bug.
When I first came to Yankee Stadium I used to feel like the ghosts of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig were walking around in there.
I'm a kid from Minnesota. I like seeing movie stars! So I'm there at The ivy, I've got my shrimp, Eddie Murphy comes in with his gang. I said to the waiter, as any good Midwestern boy would, "Hey, put Eddie's check on my American Express card, but don't tell him that I did it 'til I'm gone." Next day I got a call from manager who said, "Eddie's doing a movie, he was very impressed that you bought him lunch." So remember: sometimes buying people lunch can really work out well for you.
James Parkinson. George Huntington. Robert Graves. John Down. Now this Lou Gehrig fellow of mine. How did men come to monopolize disease names too?
Everything that Eddie has said about me is the total opposite of what really happened. Eddie says I wanted to be a solo artist. No, Eddie wanted to be a solo artist.
And the big issue here, I think, is that the publisher took over the editorial pages, a guy named Jeff Johnson. He's an accountant from Chicago, doesn't know anything about what newspapers are supposed to be about, and he made a decision to get rid of the column.
I'm not head-strong, and I'm not egotistical. I understand certain things better now. I won't be trying to be play everyday. There's only one Cal Ripken, one Lou Gehrig and one Joe DiMaggio. What is good for them isn't necessarily good for Eric Davis.
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