I Had A Job To Do, And

Baseball Is A Spirited Race Of Man Against Man, Reflex Against Reflex. A Game Of Inches. Every Skill Is Measured. Every Heroic, Every Failing Is Seen And Cheered, Or Booed. And Then Becomes A Statistic.

I Had A Job To Do, And I Did It All These Years To The Best Of My Ability. That's What I'd Like To Leave Behind As I Finish My Final Game In Toronto.

A Tall, Thin Old Man Waving A Scorecard From The Corner Of His Dugout. That's Baseball.

Why The Fairy Tale Of Willie Mays Making A Brilliant World Series Catch, And Then Dashing Off To Play Stickball In The Street With His Teenage Pals. That’s Baseball. So Is The Husky Voice Of A Doomed Lou Gehrig Saying, ‘i Consider Myself The Luckiest Man On The Face Of This Earth.’

It's Time To Say Goodbye, But I Think Goodbyes Are Sad And I'd Much Rather Say Hello. Hello To A New Adventure.