"I always wanted to get a hit every time I went to the plate. But this was one time I didn't want to get a hit. I'll be damned if I didn't smack one in the gap and I had to slide into second - head first, no less. I was safe with a double. But when I stood up, I had mustard and ketchup and smashed hot dogs and buns all over me. The fielders took one look at me, turned their backs and damned near busted a gut laughing at me. My teammates in the dugout went crazy." - on pinch-hitting with hot dogs in his pocket
Seasoned Midwesterner who's interests include baseball, collectibles, Detroit Tigers, heavy music including gothic and symphonic metal, history and offering unsolicited social and political commentary.