“Shit, no,” Williams barked. “You’re readin’ all these sportswriters. Jesus. Listen, that ball looked like a pea to me comin’ in there once in a while. Hell, no, I couldn’t see the laces.”
Showing posts with label TedWilliams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TedWilliams. Show all posts
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Ted Williams debunking the Seeing the Laces myth.
The Truth About Ted Williams' Amazing Vision - Esquire:
Friday, September 28, 2012
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Ten Years Later: Remembering a great day at Fenway ...
cryptonaut-in-exile: Fenway Rocks:
The Jackie Chan Face On A Stick, on the other hand, is lost to the mists of time.
Jackie Chan (!) threw out the first pitch ... I had no idea he was going to be there ... and I got a Jackie Face On A Stick. Drank tons of beer, ate sausages, and peanuts, and ice cream, then had more beer ... Tif reminds me I should also be bragging about how my girl bought me a new hat, one of the caps with Ted Williams's number 9 on the front. It's sweet.And I still wear it. As a matter of fact, I'm wearing it now.
The Jackie Chan Face On A Stick, on the other hand, is lost to the mists of time.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Two Ted Williams items discovered because I wondered just now whatever became of his severed head.
Ted Williams' Daughter on Auctioning Her Father's Legacy, Cryonics Controversy - ABC News:
And then there's this novel that intrigues me:
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| "To My Pal Ted Williams From Babe Ruth" |
She points out that her father had a life-long obsession with science. Indeed, he authored what is considered one of the definitive blueprints for baseball success, "The Science of Hitting."
"My dad was a man of science," Williams says. "He wasn't a religious man. I can't apologize for that. He didn't believe in god. He believed in science."Warms the cockles of my atheist heart. Also, that baseball ... wow.
The idea for “Extra Innings” was born six years ago out of a marriage between two of Spitzer’s loves — baseball and history. He was watching a Red Sox game one night, during which Jerry Remy and Don Orsillo were discussing Williams. Channel surfing through a commercial break, he flipped to a show about mummies and the afterlife. It would be great, he thought, to combine William’s cryogenic freezing with the question of life after death. In his mind’s eye, he pictured what Williams would be like if ever unfrozen.Unfrozen and, one hopes, his frozen, tragically abused, severed head repaired.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
‘Bottom of the 33rd’ by Dan Barry - Review - NYTimes.com
‘Bottom of the 33rd’ by Dan Barry - Review - NYTimes.com:
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| Marty Barrett scoring the winning run. |
This is a fastball of literary devices — hindsight, like Ted Williams’s vision, can be 20/10 — but it works wonderfully here, thanks to a diverse roster of characters. The third basemen, Cal Ripken Jr. for Rochester and Wade Boggs for Pawtucket, will enjoy careers that lead to baseball’s Hall of Fame. A free-spirited Dutchman named Win Remmerswaal, who pitches in the 18th through the 22nd innings for Pawtucket, will become an alcoholic, suffer brain damage and wind up confined to a wheelchair in a nursing home in The Hague. The exquisitely named Rochester right fielder, Drungo Hazewood, will exit baseball bitterly, drive a truck and think about “the best time of his life: the days he spent playing baseball on nights like this, as cold as it is, with got-your-back teammates close by, and the Baltimore organization invested in his future.”
Monday, July 31, 2006
Unbelievable
This is the loudest MVP chant I've ever heard.Ortiz just hit a 3 run HR in the bottom of the 9th to lift the Sox over Cleveland 9-8.
I grew up with Rice, Lynn, Evans, and Yaz. Roger Clemens may be the greatest pitcher I'll ever see. Pedro is right up there *and* helped win a World Series *and* had that infectious smile. Nomar was great. Big Mo Vaughn was awesome. Manny just keeps being Manny. Ted Williams gave us .406; I've read everything about him I could lay my hands on and I believe he may well be the greatest hitter who ever played the game. But David Ortiz is becoming my favorite Red Sox player.
If Papi doesn't get the MVP this year, the award means nothing.
Update: Shaughnessy seems a little starstruck this morning as well.
Monday, October 21, 2002
Cooperstown
It's about a five hour drive from Providence, RI to Cooperstown, NY. This time of year, when the leaves are starting to turn, it's not an unpleasant trip across across the Pioneer Valley, through the Berkshires, past Albany into central NY, then down the western shore of Lake Ostego to baseball's holiest shrine: the National Baseball Hall of Fame. It's one of those things I've wanted to do since I was about 10 years old, but just never made time for. A few months back my girlfriend (how cool is this?!) my girlfriend says, "have you ever been the Hall of Fame? No?!? Well, let's go!!" She's not really into baseball, so I don't think I would've ever thought of asking her, but when she grokked how much I love baseball she took it on herself to make sure I went.
I didn't really know what to expect of the place. I knew the museum had exhibits and a hall of plaques and that Cooperstown would be small, but that was pretty much it. For some reason, I half expected to see Hall of Famers, and guys hoping to get in, walking the streets. You know, Jim Rice getting a chili dog at the Doubleday Diner, Pete Rose working the counter at his memorabilia shop, maybe a red-eyed Ozzie Smith on the tale end of a celebratory bender threatening to do his patented back flip next to the bobbleheads in the Hall of Fame gift shop. No such luck. What is there is, for a baseball fan, pretty awe-inspiring. Recent items, like the bats Mike Cameron and Shawn Green swung when they hit four homers each in games this past year. The jersey Nomar wore during his 30 game hit streak in 1997. Gear, bats, and balls from McGwire, Sosa, and Bonds. There's a room devoted to the 500 club full of bats and gear worn by Aaron, Williams, McGwire, Foxx, Ott, et al. There was a ball signed by the 1918 World Champion Red Sox. There was a baseball card display. Man, was that tough to swallow. Cards I used to own on display in the Hall of Fame. (Sadly, most of those photos didn't turn out.)
You can read all about what's at the Hall, if it's your bag, at the website. You can even see the plaques, but it's nothing like being in that room, wandering from alcove to alcove, finding the ones you wanted to see, and touch, like Teddy's, Yaz's, Pudge's, and stumbling across others, like Nolan Ryan's, of guys that didn't play for the Red Sox, but were still pretty good players anyways, and watching other guys look for, and find the Yaz plaque you were just at, have their picture taken with it, then tell their son about how they used to idolize him as a kid. I can't wait until my nephew gets into the little league years so I can take him out there.
If I haven't bored you to tears yet, you can check out some of the photos we took here.
I didn't really know what to expect of the place. I knew the museum had exhibits and a hall of plaques and that Cooperstown would be small, but that was pretty much it. For some reason, I half expected to see Hall of Famers, and guys hoping to get in, walking the streets. You know, Jim Rice getting a chili dog at the Doubleday Diner, Pete Rose working the counter at his memorabilia shop, maybe a red-eyed Ozzie Smith on the tale end of a celebratory bender threatening to do his patented back flip next to the bobbleheads in the Hall of Fame gift shop. No such luck. What is there is, for a baseball fan, pretty awe-inspiring. Recent items, like the bats Mike Cameron and Shawn Green swung when they hit four homers each in games this past year. The jersey Nomar wore during his 30 game hit streak in 1997. Gear, bats, and balls from McGwire, Sosa, and Bonds. There's a room devoted to the 500 club full of bats and gear worn by Aaron, Williams, McGwire, Foxx, Ott, et al. There was a ball signed by the 1918 World Champion Red Sox. There was a baseball card display. Man, was that tough to swallow. Cards I used to own on display in the Hall of Fame. (Sadly, most of those photos didn't turn out.)
You can read all about what's at the Hall, if it's your bag, at the website. You can even see the plaques, but it's nothing like being in that room, wandering from alcove to alcove, finding the ones you wanted to see, and touch, like Teddy's, Yaz's, Pudge's, and stumbling across others, like Nolan Ryan's, of guys that didn't play for the Red Sox, but were still pretty good players anyways, and watching other guys look for, and find the Yaz plaque you were just at, have their picture taken with it, then tell their son about how they used to idolize him as a kid. I can't wait until my nephew gets into the little league years so I can take him out there.
If I haven't bored you to tears yet, you can check out some of the photos we took here.
Sunday, September 15, 2002
Fenway Rocks
You know sometimes things just go your way and you have an awesome day? Today was like that. Went up to Fenway with Tif and another couple and watched the Red Sox win as Manny homered twice and Lowe pitched well. We had good seats just a few rows back from the right field fence beyond the foul pole. Jackie Chan (!) threw out the first pitch ... I had no idea he was going to be there ... and I got a Jackie Face On A Stick. Drank tons of beer, ate sausages, and peanuts, and ice cream, then had more beer. It was gorgeous weather for the game and I got some good snapshots on Mega's digicam. Tif reminds me I should also be bragging about how my girl bought me a new hat, one of the caps with Ted Williams's number 9 on the front. It's sweet.
Friday, July 5, 2002
The Splendid Splinter
Ted Williams passed away today at 83.
He was the last .400 hitter, probably the greatest hitter ever to play the game (Bob Feller is on the air now attesting to the fact) -- he definitely had the sweetest swing. He was, by all accounts, a great fighter pilot who saw extensive combat in WWII and in Korea. He was active in supporting the Jimmy Fund.
Baseball and the Red Sox are a part of the New England identity; Ted Williams, moreso than any other Boston sports legend (Bird, Orr, Yaz...) was the living embodiment of that identity. Prickly, brash, reclusive, gifted, generous ... in some regards he's not an easy guy to warm up to the idea of, but the way he dreamed as a kid of being the greatest hitter ever, then applied himself wholeheartedly to that goal -- learning the science and mechanics of hitting, applying his mind and that wiry body of his to the task with single-minded devotion -- those qualities made him, in my imagination, the most fascinating figure in sports.
He was the last .400 hitter, probably the greatest hitter ever to play the game (Bob Feller is on the air now attesting to the fact) -- he definitely had the sweetest swing. He was, by all accounts, a great fighter pilot who saw extensive combat in WWII and in Korea. He was active in supporting the Jimmy Fund.
Baseball and the Red Sox are a part of the New England identity; Ted Williams, moreso than any other Boston sports legend (Bird, Orr, Yaz...) was the living embodiment of that identity. Prickly, brash, reclusive, gifted, generous ... in some regards he's not an easy guy to warm up to the idea of, but the way he dreamed as a kid of being the greatest hitter ever, then applied himself wholeheartedly to that goal -- learning the science and mechanics of hitting, applying his mind and that wiry body of his to the task with single-minded devotion -- those qualities made him, in my imagination, the most fascinating figure in sports.
Sunday, July 8, 2001
.406 Is Greater Than 56
I've got a serious beef with TSN's: 25 Greatest Moments of the A.L.
Dimaggio's 56 game hitting streak comes in at #8 and Williams's .406 comes in at #15?!? The 56 game streak is more of a statistical anomaly than an accomplishment. Comparing it to the .406 is like saying it's more of an accomplishment to hit for the cycle than to hit 4 homers in a game. You can't hit .406 for a season and suck but, theoretically, you can hit in 56 straight games getting one hit every five at bats, driving in no runs, and grounding into inning ending double plays the other four trips to the plate. Joe D's hitting streak was quality, I'd never say it wasn't, but it pales next to Ted's accomplishment that same year.
Dimaggio's 56 game hitting streak comes in at #8 and Williams's .406 comes in at #15?!? The 56 game streak is more of a statistical anomaly than an accomplishment. Comparing it to the .406 is like saying it's more of an accomplishment to hit for the cycle than to hit 4 homers in a game. You can't hit .406 for a season and suck but, theoretically, you can hit in 56 straight games getting one hit every five at bats, driving in no runs, and grounding into inning ending double plays the other four trips to the plate. Joe D's hitting streak was quality, I'd never say it wasn't, but it pales next to Ted's accomplishment that same year.
Wednesday, January 17, 2001
Hitter
Ted Williams:
Official Website: doesn't do him justice. Not even a mention of his condition in the "news" section.
Salon article: a well researched retrospective.
The most recent news from the Boston Globe.
Ted's page at the Hall of Fame site.
Ted's a fascinating guy. Driven, but "flakey." Brash and arrogant, but compassionate and big-hearted. He's 82 now and in failing health, so it's unlikely it'll ever happen, but I've always thought it would be cool, if I ever had a kid, to pass Ted Williams on the street and tell my child "there goes the greatest hitter who ever lived" just loud enough for Williams to hear, and to just keep going without bugging him for an autograph. That's how he'd like to be remembered and I hope it's how he will be, not only because it's true, but also because he deserves credit for his support of the Jimmy Fund and for helping prod the Hall of Fame into acknowledging the Negro League ballplayers who weren't in the Hall only because they weren't given a chance to play.
Official Website: doesn't do him justice. Not even a mention of his condition in the "news" section.
Salon article: a well researched retrospective.
The most recent news from the Boston Globe.
Ted's page at the Hall of Fame site.
Ted's a fascinating guy. Driven, but "flakey." Brash and arrogant, but compassionate and big-hearted. He's 82 now and in failing health, so it's unlikely it'll ever happen, but I've always thought it would be cool, if I ever had a kid, to pass Ted Williams on the street and tell my child "there goes the greatest hitter who ever lived" just loud enough for Williams to hear, and to just keep going without bugging him for an autograph. That's how he'd like to be remembered and I hope it's how he will be, not only because it's true, but also because he deserves credit for his support of the Jimmy Fund and for helping prod the Hall of Fame into acknowledging the Negro League ballplayers who weren't in the Hall only because they weren't given a chance to play.
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