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Meeting Ted Williams



Baseball legend Ted Williams in 1949
Photo Credit Wikimedia Commons

Recently there’s been a lot of FB chatter about Ted Williams for some reason. Here’s my contribution.


Every time I see a picture of my boyhood hero I remember the day, when I met him. My father used Rudy’s Sunoco on the US Rte 28 rotary in Massachussetts. It was the same place Ted went to for the vehicles used at his Lakeville, MA baseball camp. One Saturday Dad stopped in to pay his repair bill, leaving me in the car. He walked back accompanied by a man more than a foot taller than him and opened the door for me to get out.


“Bobby, I believe you know this man,” said Dad. “Shake hands with Mr. Williams.”


Eyes popping out of my head and my heart racing, I reached out. Ted smiled and took my

hand in his. His mit was so big mine disappeared within it. I’m sure he said something, but I

don’t remember a word. All I recall is that very big hand.


Recently, I wrote this with him in mind.


All Star


Where’s Ted Williams now, when we need him?

Splendid Splinter could even make a masterpiece

popping out to third with bases loaded,

a might swing by Teddy Ball Game

sends a small white sphere sailing straight to heaven

a stitched and muted sun on a slate grey day

into a tiny hole in the sky over Fenway

through which my world flowed.

The Kid would know just what to do

amidst this world’s confusion.

Flinging his thirty-eight-ounce Louisville Slugger

over the third baseman’s head into left

then spitting at a booing box seater.

He could walk calmly to the home team dugout,

drop a crisp new c-note on the water cooler

to pay the standard fine.

Thumper knew the drama of confidence.

A heavy hitter with a .406 average

The king in a million daydreams

he even did the wrong things right.


Robert W. Spencer

 
 
 

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