A Quote by Pete Rose

In the old days, you know, they didn't have batting cages. And in most ball parks, they only had one runway to the dugout. — © Pete Rose
In the old days, you know, they didn't have batting cages. And in most ball parks, they only had one runway to the dugout.
My batting mentality is to see the ball and hit it. I don't know what bowlers see while batting.
Obviously, a lot of things play on your mind when you're batting. This might happen and this might not. The best thing you can do when you're batting is not to think too much, and wait for the next ball.
And so we stayed out in the garden of the old house until we couldn't kick a ball, laughing in the gathering twilight, making the most of the good weather and all the days that were left, our little game watched only by next door's cat, and every star in the heavens.
On the road, we're hitting in the cages during our normal batting practice for our position players.
I remember one time I'm batting against the Dodgers in Milwaukee. They lead, 2 - 1, it's the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two out and the pitcher has a full count on me. I look over to the Dodger dugout and they're all in street clothes.
The offseason after the 2014 season, I worked with hitting coach Damon Mashore. I always had power in batting practice but couldn't take it into a game consistently. We made a little adjustment with my hands, lowered them a bit to get a consistent path to the ball, a natural uppercut to elevate the ball and backspin some balls.
When I first became captain the job was new and refreshing and didn't affect my batting. I was still in the same mental pattern I had had for 10 years; batting came first and captaincy fitted in with that.
In India, the wicket tends to get a bit slower once the ball gets old, but in England, it's pretty much the same whether it's new ball or old ball.
If I really had to pinpoint my happiest days out of the United States, I'd choose those Fifties military days in Britain, particularly my time in South Ruislip. I had a ball.
The tennis ball doesn't know how old I am. The ball doesn't know if I'm a man or a woman or if I come from a communist country or not. Sport has always broken down these barriers.
I had the chance to play with Benny 'The King' Carter here in Copenhagen for three days in the Montmartre, and two days in Paris. 'What a Thrill.' He knows so much music, and he is the only person that I get the shakes trying to play my horn behind or with him (smile). However, it was a ball.
Our family business was operating batting cages. The pitching machine spit out the balls at lightning speed. Don Drysdale, Sandy Koufax. Whitey Ford. 50 cents for 12 pitches. Of course, my mother ran the place, and I was her slave: selling candy, hosing down the street, and the most dreaded of all jobs, feeding the pitching machine with balls.
In high school, baseball was life. My senior year, I had the highest batting average on the team. I was one of the starting pitchers. I wanted to play Division III ball and eventually coach.
In a tradition second in wonderful absurdity only to 60-year-old baseball managers wearing uniforms and spikes in the dugout, golf spectators come dressed ready to play 18.
It is only fair to admit, however, that my batting average in the crystal ball league is point, zero, zero, zero.
I never realized that batting a little ball around could cause so much commotion. I now know how (Charles) Lindbergh must have felt when he returned from St. Louis.
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