The Loss of Greatness

By Robert Nishihara 

  When I opened the newspaper this morning (July 5, 2002), one headline in particular altered my morning more than the rest. The sad news spilled off the page, and by the time I finished reading the first sentence or two I knew that the world of baseball just had its heart broken. 

  The greatest hitter who ever lived is gone. But, the true tragedy of Ted Williams' passing is more than the loss of a great baseball player. It is about the loss of his voice, his heart, and his passion for the game. 

  Though his career was often marked by his tumultuous relationship with the media and fans, it was also this relentless and fiery nature that enabled Williams to hone his craft as a hitter and become, perhaps, the greatest combination of power and patience to step into a major league batter's box. It was also this passion for the game that fueled his desire to stay involved in the sport long after his playing days were over and champion those causes he believed needed a voice. 

  Indeed, his 1966 Hall of Fame induction speech was less a personal celebration than a call for social responsibility. His inclusion of Negro League greats in his speech and his insistence that they be recognized for their achievements paved the way for their eventual HOF recognition. His continued support for other overlooked players extended to A-A GPBL players who were included in a baseball card set issued by his baseball card company. 

  Perhaps the only thing that rivaled his commitment to baseball was his love of country. His two stints in active military duty as a decorated fighter pilot may have shortened his baseball career by five years but added to his resume as a true American hero beyond quantifiable increments. That he decided to exchange personal sports glory for duty to country is, perhaps, the truest measure of his character. 

  Baseball was also always in his blood. His ongoing mentoring of modern players illustrated his continued devotion to the sport. Unlike so many of his contemporaries, Williams never resented the modern game nor became overly protective of his own era. I've often found the cliche of bitter old ballplayers to be tiresome, but there always seems to be so many of them. As was always his nature, Williams simply refused to cave in to those negative expectations. His love for the sport was never defined by the narrow parameters that seemed to rule his age group. He remained his own man to the very end.  

  Though Ted Williams is physically lost to baseball fans everywhere, he will forever be an integral part of the game's soul.