You've been playing a child's game professionally for 16 years. You've made over $65 million in salary alone. You're going to make $10.5 million in 2009 for not working.
So what the hell are you crying about? Because your 10-year-old son wants to keep watching you pitch? C'mon now. Buy the kid a video game and some ice cream and let him stay up a half-hour later tonight and he'll be fine. (Can you tell that I'm not a parent?)
I will never understand the tearful press conferences athletes hold when they have an injury or when they retire. I happen to like my job too, but if someone told me I could retire tomorrow and be incredibly rich until the day I died, the only tears that would fall from my eyes would be tears of joy. I have to go to work tomorrow, Billy. You don't. I should be the one crying.