When It's Over For Me...

...I hope for a few things:

1.  I don't break down at the podium.

2.  There is a podium for me to make the announcement.

3.  Somebody is there to listen.

On my bad days, I can almost picture myself making this big announcement.  "As of today, October Whatever, 2000-Whatever, I am announcing my retirement from the great game of baseball.  This game has been like a friend to me.  It's been a mother to me; a father too.  The game has been there for me ever since I can remember.  And now I leave it with no regrets.  Except that I can't play anymore.  That's a regret, but I can't help it.  Otherwise, no regrets.  Besides never nailing Barry Bonds with my fastball in the days before he wore all that armor.  I wouldn't be able to live myself if I had any regrets.  Thankfully, the regrets I have are virtually nil.  Just the age thing and the Bonds thing.  Oh, and that I didn't win more games that I should have won.  But that's not in my control.  Mostly.  I mean, I probably could have tried harder a couple of times, but that's how we all are, right?  Right?  Anyway, Jimmy Scott is signing off.  Bowing out.  Fading away.  Sinking down, down, down.  No regrets, friends.  No regrets."

Terrible speech.  I'm hoping I have time to work on it more.

In the meantime, I pray that I don't have something like this happen to me: