Best 14 quotes of Roger Kahn on MyQuotes

Roger Kahn

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    Roger Kahn

    Baseball is for the leisurely afternoons of summer and for the unchanging dreams.

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    Roger Kahn

    Basketball, hockey and track meets are action heaped upon action, climax upon climax, until the onlooker's responses become deadened. Baseball is for the leisurely afternoons of summer and for the unchanging dreams.

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    Roger Kahn

    Boxing is smoky halls and kidneys battered until they bleed.

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    Roger Kahn

    Carl Furillo was pure ballplayer. In his prime he stood six feet tall and weighed 190 pounds and there was a fluidity to his frame you seldom see, among such sinews. His black hair was thick, and tightly curled. His face was strong and smooth. He had the look of a young indomitable centurion ... I cannot imagine Carl Furillo in his prime as anything other than a ballplayer. Right field in Brooklyn was his destiny.

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    Roger Kahn

    Dempsey himself said you only spend so much time in the spotlight before they change the bulb. He had a very clever way with words.

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    Roger Kahn

    Football is violence and cold weather and sex and college rye.

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    Roger Kahn

    Horse racing is animated roulette.

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    Roger Kahn

    I was showing early symptoms of becoming a professional baseball man. I was lying to the press.

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    Roger Kahn

    No other sporting event can compare with a good Series. The Super Bowl is a three-hour interruption in a week of drink and Rotarian parties.

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    Roger Kahn

    Robinson did not merely play at center stage. He was center stage; and wherever he walked, center stage moved with him.

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    Roger Kahn

    Tennis and golf are best played, not watched.

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    Roger Kahn

    To age with dignity and with courage cuts close to what it is to be a man.

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    Roger Kahn

    You may glory in a team triumphant... But you fall in love with a team in defeat.

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    Roger Kahn

    Why do we remember the Boys of Summer? We remember because we were young when they were, of course. But more, we remember because we feel the ache of guilt and regret. While they were running, jumping, leaping, we were slouched behind typewriters, smoking and drinking, pretending to some mystic communion with men we didn't really know or like. Men from ghettos we didn't dare visit, or rural farms we passed at sixty miles an hour. Loving what they did on the field, we could forget how superior we felt towards them the rest of the time. By cheering them on we proved we had nothing to do with the injustices that kept their lives separate from ours. There's nothing sordid or false about the Boys of Summer. Only our memories smell like sweaty jockstraps.