New York Post
This was late in the great renaissance season of 1999, when Rickey Henderson was 40 years old and tried to prove every day that his birth certificate was lying. He was standing behind the batting cage at Old Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati on the day after the regular season was supposed to end. In a few hours the Mets and Reds would play one game for a wild-card berth.
“Come here, son,” Henderson said.
When he asked, you listened.
“Keep your eye on Rickey,” he said. “Rickey’s got this.”