■ The work was never a means to an end — at least when we did it in the ’60s and ’70s. If you were going to be an actor in Chicago, that’s like saying you were going to be a golf pro in Alaska. You did it for the love and the joy of doing it. And we took risks, especially at the Organic Theater. I’d come in with an idea: “Hey, I sit in this section of the bleachers at Wrigley Field that I think would make for a good play.”

■ I’ve never had a plan. I go where my instinct tells me. The chips fall where they fall. I was always one phone call away from something that would change my life, which was what ultimately happened. I’m out in L.A., and I get a call from David Mamet saying, “I got this new play. I’d like you to maybe think about doing it.” I couldn’t have written a better script for myself. Next thing I know, I win a Tony.

■ When I was doing Glengarry Glen Ross on Broadway, we’d have these big stars come to see it. One night Gregory Peck came backstage to say hello. He says, “Joe, the press asked, would it be all right if they took some photos of us together?” And I said, “Oh, sure, Mr. Peck.” So he says to the stage manager, “All right, let them in.” A couple of these guys come in with the cameras. Gregory goes, “All right, fellas.” Click, click, click, click, click, click. After about 15 seconds, he puts his hand out and goes, “Gentlemen, I think that’s an appropriate amount of time, don’t you?” They go, “Oh, yes, Mr. Peck.” And they all stood up and left. Then he looked at us and said, “Thank you, gentlemen. It was wonderful. What a joy to meet you all.” And as he walked out, I thought, There goes the greatest lesson I could have ever learned in Hollywood: how to handle the press.

■ We had a restaurant in Burbank, California, called Taste Chicago. We’re watching Game 7 there. It’s jammed; we got hundreds of people. The parking lot is full of news trucks, because they know I’m there. Then the game gets tied up, and the rain happens. I’m going crazy. I’m thinking, Holy fuck, what if they lose? So I knock on the door of the Fox News truck. I said, “Can I watch the game with you guys? I can’t be in the restaurant with all those people. It’ll kill me if it goes south.” They said, “Sure.” They were, like, Dodgers fans. They could give a fuck. So it’s me and two guys in the Fox News truck, and they’re watching the game on monitors as big as a deck of cards. All of a sudden, the Cubs take the lead. I’m thinking, Now I can’t leave the truck. Cleveland comes up to bat. “Oh my God. Throw the ball to Rizzo! Out!” These guys in the truck, they’re not even watching the game. They’re just turning dials. I go, “Holy fuck!” I slam open the truck door to run out, and I look at the restaurant. It’s dead. Dead. It’s like you can hear a pin drop. And I’m thinking, The whole fucking thing was a dream; I’m imagining things. And as I’m staring in shock, the restaurant doors fly open. People come running out. They’re screaming. The Champagne’s flying. I look back in the truck, and the guy goes, “Yeah, we’re on a 20-second delay.” I saw the Cubs win the World Series 20 seconds before everybody else. That was my ultimate Cubs experience.