As a true baseball fan for over 56 years, I cannot allow the passing of Ted Williams to come and go without some commentary.
Baseball entered my life and captured me in 1946. World War II was over. The Boston Red Sox were playing the St. Louis Cardinals in the World Series. Some Boston players - Rudy York, Bobby Doerr, Vern Stephens, Johnny Pesky, Mel Parnell and Dom DiMaggio. Some Cardinals - Stan Musial, Red Schoendienst, Marty Marion, Whitey Kurowski, Howie Pollet, Harry (the Cat) Brecheen, Walker Cooper, Johnny Mize and Enos Slaughter.
These were all great players, but towering over all of them was Ted Williams. He was an average left-fielder, but he was and is "The greatest hitter of a thrown baseball of all time." It was in the era of Joe DiMaggio, but even he recognized that Williams was a superior batsman. In 1941 he hit .406 for a whole season's play.
I remember also that the newspapers said he had "rabbit ears." This meant that while thousands cheered, he could pick out the lone "boo" and sulk over it. His swing was gorgeous. Duke Snider and Darryl Strawberry paled in comparison to "the Splendid Splinter."
To add to his legendary accomplishments, he was also a national hero. With his sharp eyes and quick reflexes, he became a fighter pilot. He fought in World War II and he was called back for the Korean Conflict.
In one All-Star Game (back when All-Star Games meant something) he crushed an "Eephus pitch"’ thrown by Rip Sewell into the upper deck. An Eephus pitch was a 20 ft. high arching pitch which confused most batters. Not Ted!
Ted Williams holds a place in baseball lore never to be surpassed. He is also a man to be admired for his demeanor and other accomplishments.
I will conclude this article on Ted Williams with the thoughts of two old geezers who remembered him:
"Actually, Williams claimed later that his adjustment to the "Williams Shift," designed by player-manager Lou Boudreau, actually cost him several points in his batting average. What I found most interesting was something I had quite forgotten, namely that in Williams' day they did not subtract a time at-bat from a player's statistics when, although he may have flied out, i.e., his batted ball resulted in a run scoring. No one, apparently, kept track of these events in those days. Certainly, Williams must have had some sacrifice flies in 1941 which, under current rules, would have added points to his .406 batting average. If he had as many as 10 sac flies, he'd have batted .415 that year."
"I remember the great rivalry between the Red Sox and the Yankees in the post-WWII era. I was a teenager at that time and every game played had the feeling of a World Series seventh game. I recall the famous Williams Shift which was really very effective. Without it, Ted would probably have hit an added 20 points.
Mostly, the thing that impressed me most was the aura of professionalism that was part of his person. Every time he walked to the plate, he drew the rapt attention of every eye at the game. This was a man who was a very special person.
Even if someone eventually does hit .400 sometime in the future, it will take a long time before they will attract the respect that Williams had among all fans and players."
So long Ted, you never disappointed us!