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I just like the ball in my hands whether I'm running it or catching it.

For all the fun, don't forget: I always knew when to put my golf balls down and practice.

I usually stick out my hand and hope he puts the ball in it. Except the one time I went out to take Early Wynn out. I stuck out my hand and he hit me right in the stomach with the ball.

I lost the ball in the moon.

I hit a ball for a living, but I have that passion to keep learning.

It's good sportsmanship to not pick up lost golf balls while they are still rolling.

But, at the moment, when I step on the pitch, when I have the ball I know it's mine. It's just a feeling.

When I pick up the ball and it feels nice and light and small I know I'm going to have a good day. But if I picked it up and it's big and heavy, I know I'm liable to get into a little trouble.