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The buzz is still with me. I get goose bumps.

You know, I used to warm the thermometer on the light bulb... I was really good at being sick. I could forge my mother's signature on a sick note so well I was hardly ever at school.

If I don't get the goose-bump factor when I'm reading it than I can't do it.

I was in a fever to get out from behind the plate. Oh boy, I was terrible back there.

A fever is an expression of inner rage.

It's hard to be happy when you are facing 120 to 140 degree temperatures and nothing seems to be moving in a direction that you think or they think or you've been told it's supposed to be moving in.

I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed over? No, it was the poetry.

That feeling when you're so cold you'd give anything to be warm - I've had it before, literally huddled around a candle flame on an ice sheet.

People say they get a warmness from me.

Baseball changes through the years. It gets milder.