TED WILLIAMS: Heart of a Patriot

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TED WILLIAMS: Heart of a Patriot

By Richard Curry

It is fitting that Ted Williams got to see one more Independence Day, because he was one of many who sacrificed to help preserve the freedoms we enjoy today. There's very few, in passing, that can be talked about as an American hero and as an athlete, who will leave an imprint on his sport that will be heartfelt as long as a kid continues to pick up a ball and a bat.

In 1953, Ted walked away from his burning jet fighter in Korea only to be the first in line the next day to fly again. On the most important moment in his life during his Hall of Fame induction, Ted took time to talk about the injustice of not having Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson and other Negro League players honored in the halls of Cooperstown.

Ted was the first player to visit Roy Campanella after his car accident - an accident that would paralyze Roy for the remainder of his life. "Before Ted left he asked me not to tell anybody that he'd been up to see me," reflected Roy. "This Williams is quite a fellow. He's forever doing nice things for people, but he doesn't want anyone to know anything."

Ted was from a dysfunctional family. His mother was a fervent,

bell-ringing, Salvation Army volunteer who spent more time on the streets

trying to save people than she did caring for her own family. Ted's dad was

a raging alcoholic and his only brother went to prison for selling Ted's

car in his mother's home illegally. Later he died of leukemia. Ted rose

above all of this, supporting and working for the 'Jimmy' Fund in Boston

with his heart & soul, raising millions in the fight on cancer.

Ted was said to be a natural, but nothing could have been further from the

truth. He worked and practiced incessantly to earn what he dearly wanted.

"When I walk down the street, I want to hear people say, 'there goes the

best hitter that ever was," he once said. And yes, Roy Hobbs did not say it

first.

Ted did get two things from his mom. One, his perfectionist ways, and the

other his concern for the less fortunate. Ted was depicted as arrogant

because he wouldn't wear ties like his teammates. The truth was, as a

rookie he made $6,500 and sent $5,000 home to his Spanish mother to get her

off the streets. Later Ted said, "I've found that you don't need to wear

neckties if you can hit."

The first game Ted every played in the majors, he smacked a double. In his

second All-Star Game appearance, he hit a ninth inning walk-off homerun to

win the game in Detroit. Before going off to WWII, Ted won baseball's

Triple Crown. In his first at-bat, after returning from the war, Ted hit a

homerun in a spring-league exhibition game.

Just before leaving for the Korean Conflict, he hit a two-run homer off

Detroit's Dizzy Trout. Ted came back from the war and hit .407 for the

remainder of the 1953 season. He did it before in 1941 with a .406 average

- a record that still stands - going on  62 years.

He could have sat out a double-header the last day of that season and would

have hit exactly .400, but elected to play anyway and went six for eight.

That took nerve and exemplary character to pull off.

On May 16,1954, Ted came back from collarbone surgery to get 8 hits in a

Tier double-header, along with 2 home runs and 7 RBI's. Then on Sept. 26,

1960, Ted hits a 450-foot homer to center field in his last 'at-bat'. This

was a hard working, intelligent, giving, and truly unique American - one

for the Ages.

Ted's son, John Henry Williams, is considering cryonicly-freezing his dad

to possibly revive him in the future. Well, there might be one more encore

for Ted. (580 have been frozen already - none to date have returned.) John

Henry is also planning on selling Ted's DNA. Let's hope not.

The city of Boston remembered Ted this summer before a game with The

Detroit Tigers. Number 9 was on the score board as the batter - Nomar

Garciaparra, who was treated like a grandson by Ted, was in tears; and a

man in a white tuxedo was playing taps with his bugle in left field, where

Number 9 had been mowed into the grass.

The flag flew at half-mast over the press box at Fenway Park on a clear

summer evening. The sold-out crowd was silent - silent in respect and

admiration because they lost a friend.

I will always see Ted sitting in a wheel chair on the mound before the 1999

All Star Game (a game he played in, for 16 different years) with players

from the All-Century team and with the leagues 99 All Star teams standing

around him in awe. Ted smiled warmly as he said, "This is wonderful." Then

he thanked the New England fans by saying, "you are the best in the world."

That night Ted felt the love and respect he so richly deserved. Sammy (I

love this guy) Sosa said, "I feel like I am born again." Derek Jeter said,

"I feel like a kid again." Tony Gywnn remarked, "This is one of the best

moments in my life."

Ted is now gone, but it's more than likely he's now showing God how to hit

a slider. God Bless you Ted. We love ya and you'll be dearly missed.

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