Ernie Banks Quotes

I learned how to play the game from Buck O’Neil,” Banks would say. Buck said no, Ernie Banks knew how to play, but what he did learn was how to play the game with love.

You must try to generate happiness within yourself. If you aren't happy in one place, chances are you won't be happy anyplace.

It's a beautiful day for a ballgame - let's play two!

Everybody plays two forever. Love, hate. Give, take. There’s always the yin and the yang. Everything in life.” —Ernie Banks

I took a sip of my coffee, sat the folder on the counter, and began reading the newspaper. “In the cold, gray dawn of September the twenty-eighth . . .” Dickens. “. . . The slippery bank where the life of Cody Pritchard came to an ignominious end . . .” Faulkner. “Questioning society with the simple query, why?” Steinbeck. “Dead.” Hemingway. Ernie

Work? I never worked a day in my life. I always loved what I was doing, had a passion for it.

I like my players to be married and in debt. That's the way you motivate them.

If Ruth did the truly impossible and resurrected, returned to baseball, and struck out in 3,187 straight plate appearances, he would still have a slugging percentage of .500. This is the same mark as—and actually percentage points ahead of—Hall of Famer Ernie Banks. Additionally, Babe Ruth would have to resurrect, return to baseball, and go 0-for-1,147 for his slugging percentage to drop below Barry Bonds’s .6069.

The franks came freshly grilled, with long slivers of pickle, hot peppers, and tomato slices, along with onions and that peculiar Chicago relish that is so green, it looks like a traffic light signaling go, eat, enjoy. Oliver splatted mustard on top—no ketchup, thank you—and took a bite. Through the soft bun and garden loaded on top he could feel the casing snap between his teeth and taste the spurt of grease. Suddenly there was no war, no politics, his mother was still alive, his father still knew how to smile, his brother was home from Vietnam, and Ernie Banks was back to playing shortstop at Wrigley Field. Was there anything better in the

Joanna stared off to the horizon, where periodic flashes of lightning continually backlit a towering cloud bank. “Evidence or no evidence,” she muttered, “I say bring on the rain.” “Don’t let her Highness hear you say that,” Ernie said, nodding toward Fran Daly, who was crouched on all fours next to what remained of the burial mound. “We’re pretty well down to the body now. If it starts to rain before she finishes up, I’m afraid she’ll go nuts.” “She already is nuts,” Joanna said. “But what’s going on? From down where I’ve been standing, I couldn’t see a thing.” “You didn’t notice that Dr. Daly got awfully quiet all of a sudden?” Ernie asked. “Well, I did, but…” “Maybe you’d better come take a look.

When the Picasso sculpture was installed in Chicago’s Daley Plaza in 1967, then-Ald. John Hoellen (47th) called on the city to “deport” the artwork to France and replace it with a statue of Cubs slugger Ernie Banks.

Holtzman

It's a great day for baseball, let's play two!

endeavors, as community service has been a big part of his personal life. Legendary Great ERNIE BANKS

The truth is, if we don’t take responsibility for our growth, it won’t happen. Growth is not automatic. if you believe it simply comes with age, you might turn out like the subject of singer and comedian Tennessee Ernie Ford’s comment, “He started out at the bottom, and sort of liked it there.” Personal growth works exactly opposite to compounding interest in a bank account. If someone deposits a sum of money into an account the day you were born, the way to make it grow it not to touch it. But when it comes to your potential, you must tap into to it to make it grow.

The subject of baseball came up—I was an ardent Cubs fan, despite their terrible record that year—and I said, “Even if the White Sox are having a better season, Ernie Banks is clearly the best player on either team. If the Cubs build around him, they’ll be good in time.” Maureen’s father smiled unpleasantly from across the table. He said, “You’re awfully opinionated for a girl.” It was not the first time someone had said such a thing. Starting when I was in third grade, my teacher, Mrs. Jauss, had routinely asked me to be in charge when she left the room, a task that sometimes necessitated my telling John Rasch to sit down or stop poking Donna Zinser and resulted in John reminding me that I wasn’t a teacher. In fourth grade, I’d been elected co-captain of the safety patrol, which occasionally elicited similar resistance from my peers. But Mr. Gurski’s remark was the sentiment’s clearest and most succinct expression in my life thus far and gave me, henceforth, a kind of shorthand understanding of the irritation and resentment I provoked in others. Not all others, of course—plenty of people admired that I was eager and responsible—but among those provoked were both men and women, adults and children.