In football, for some reason, I was a Houston Oilers fan.

I don't know who had a more tiresome, wall-to-wall schedule than my father, and I know what it's like to be a kid in that situation. He was gone a lot. He needed to be. I understood it. So did my mom.

You can't interview Pete Rose and not ask about betting on the Reds and being banned from baseball.

Broadcasting is a brutal, often unfair business, where looks are valued more than skill.

I mean the home run king, to me, is Hank Aaron, but statistically, it's Barry Bonds.

OK, I will never say anything degrading or bad about Tom Brady. He is a god in cleats.

Nobody's tuning in - let's check the TV Guide listings and see what game Joe Buck is calling. Nobody cares. They want to see the Cubs. They want to see the Packers. They want to see the Cowboys. They don't care who's calling the game.

I'm lucky that I was born to these parents. I'm lucky that my dad wanted to be around me, that he took me to all these National League cities by the time I was 12.

I always try to shine the spotlight on what's happening on the field and not what's coming out of my mouth.