July 5, 2002. I’ll never forget that day. It was the summer after my freshman year of high school and my family and I had gone down the Cape for the 4th of July that year. Boy do I remember that day. It had to have been 105 degrees in Hyannis that day and the beach was full of tourists.
After lunch, my mother wanted to poke around in some of the shops near the restaurant we had eaten at. My nine year old brother, Peter, and I were not about to become prisoners of my mother dragging our feet from store to store full of things that we could not touch (we call those the no ‘touchy’ stores). My brother and I asked my father if we could have the hotel key so we could go back to the room to get our swim-suits, so we could head to the beach. He handed us the key and my brother and I walked back to the hotel.
While I was waiting for my brother to change into his swim-suit I flicked on the television and heard the heart breaking news; Ted Williams had died. Every channel was covering the story, after all the city of Boston had just lost one of their only living legends. ESPN, NESN, Channel 4,5,6, and 7 all had the same story running; “The Kid” was gone.
I did not know what to think. All I new was that I had to let my dad know right away. I am not sure but I may have left my brother in the hotel room all by himself, but I ran back down the street and found my parents. I told my father what I had just heard on the news, I told him Ted Williams was dead.
Five years later I still remember that day. It was a sad day for baseball. Many baseball historians and enthusiasts regarded Ted Williams as the greatest hitter of all time, and many would have agreed that he was the greatest living ball player aside form maybe Hank Aaron, but that’s another debate. Ball parks around America acknowledged that a hero was gone that day, and moments of silence along with many tears were shared in every ball park that day.
The image that resonates most clearly for me is of my favorite ball player of all time taking a knee and saying a prayer for the greatest Red Sox player of all time.

Nomar Garciaparra was probably to closest with Ted Williams than any other active player on the Red Sox. Ted and Nomar had a certain bond; they would often share their philosophies on hitting and other aspects of baseball… but mostly hitting. Teddy loved Nomar, he saw a great hitter in him, he also saw a man that struggled with dealing with his fame in Boston; just like he did for most of his career. My hero, Nomar Garciaparra had lost his hero, Ted Williams and Red Sox nation’s heart broke for both icons on that day.
The only memories I have of Williams come from the 1999 All Star Game at Fenway Park. The Mid Summer classic was held at Fenway that year, and Major League Baseball had a special treat in-store for their fans and players; before the game was under way the PA announcer at Fenway Park asked for the crowds attention and directed everyone’s eyes to the bullpen door in right field. As the bullpen door opened the announcer asked every one to welcome, “The Greatest Hitter of All Time, Ted Williams!”
Ted was paraded around the field on a golf cart, as he would tip his cap for the last time to the Fenway faithful. When the cart finally made it’s way to it’s destination at the middle of the infield, players from both the American League and National League poured out of their dugouts to get a glimpse of the “Splendid Splinter.” Giants of the game like Mark McGuire, Sammy Sosa, Cal Ripken Jr., and Tony Gwynne circled the golf cart with jaw dropped mouths and star studded eyes as if they were not worthy of Teddy “Ball-Games” presence.

After the celebration was over the PA anouncer had to ask the players to return to their dugouts, so the game could begin. Ted could have talked hitting with guys like Junior Griffey, and Tony Gwynne all night, but there was a game to play.
After Ted’s death I became some what of a Ted Williams historian; soaking up any fact and statistic about him I came across. I often reminded my friends that Ted would have most likely ended his career at the top of the home run list, above Hank Aaron if he had not had lost five seasons of his career to the military. Ted flew combat missions for the United States Marine Corp during World War I, and the Korean War. 
In fact Ted Williams had to crash land his plane in the Korean War for fear of using the ejection seat. Ted was fearful that he leave his knee caps in the cockpit of his fighter jet, because Ted was well over six feet and far too tall to fit in the cockpit of a fighter jet. If he ejected and his knees were damaged Ted knew that he would never play baseball again.
As I am writing this article I am also reading, “The Teammates,” By the late David Halberstam. The book Chronicles the playing days of Ted Williams, Johnny Pesky, Dom DiMaggio and Bobby Doerr. These men shared a relationship that is not found in any clubhouses in Major league baseball today.
In the past five years I have learned so much about Ted Williams, and his legend has only grown in the eyes of Boston fans. Ted Williams is honored in three different Halls, the Baseball Hall of Fame, The Fly-Fishing Hall of Fame, and the Marine Corp. Hall of Fame. Some joke that by accomplishing this feat Ted Williams had conquered land, air, and sea; something no other man has yet to do as perfectly as Ted.
Perhaps it is no coincidence that Ted Williams passed away just one day after our Nations birthday. He was the quintessential American. In his book “The Teammates,” David Halberstam tells Ted that he was the man John Wayne was always portraying in all of his movies. All I know is that Ted was a Great American, and Boston was lucky enough to have him.


















