It was at this point in spring training, 20 years ago, that he stood before the microphones set up I in the Yankees' hotel suite and said: "I can't hit the ball anymore, and I can't steal second when I need to anymore, and I can't go from first to third anymore . . . and I think it's time to quit trying."
He also might have said, and he wouldn't be lying, that no more would he be hitting the league's most and longest homers, or winning any more MVP awards of which there were three, and he wouldn't be scoring the most runs anymore, or driving in the most, and no more would he be the best drag bunter in baseball. Things like that.
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