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January 8, 2013, 11:04 AM
By Richard Ben Cramer
THEY BOOED IN BOSTON? Well, not in Detroit, the 1941 All-Star Game, with all the nation listening in. Ted doubled in a run in the fourth, but the National League still led 5-3, going into the ninth. Then an infield hit, a single, a walk, a botched double play, and here it was: two out, two on, bottom of the ninth. Here's the Great Ted Williams. Claude Passeau, the Cubbie on the mound, sends a mean fastball in on his fists. Williams swings! When the ball made the seats, Ted started jumping on the base path. DiMaggio met him at home plate, Bob Feller ran out in street clothes, Cronin jumped the box-seat rail, the dugout emptied. The manager, Del Baker, kissed him on the forehead. They carried the Kid off the field.
He was showing them all now; after the All-Star break, Ted was still hitting more than .400. Sure, guys hit like that for a month, but then tailed off. No one in the league hit like that for a year, not since the Twenties, and each day the whole country watched. Writers from New York joined the Sox. Life brought its new strobe-light camera to photograph Ted in his shorts, swinging like he did in front of the mirror. Ted was on national radio: "Can you keep it up, Kid?" It was murderous pressure. By September, he was slipping, almost a point a day. On the last day, the Sox would have two games in Philadelphia. Ted had slipped to .39955. The way they round off averages, that's still .400. Cronin came to Ted on the eve of the twin bill and offered: "You could sit it out, Kid, have it made." But Ted said he'd play.
That night, he and Johnny Orlando walked Philadelphia. Ted stopped for milk shakes, Johnny for whiskey. Ten thousand people came to Shibe Park, though the games meant nothing. Connie Mack, the dour and penurious owner of the A's, threatened his men with fines if they eased up on Williams. But Ted didn't need help. First game, he got a single, then a home run, then two more singles. Second game, two more hits: one a screaming double that hit Mr. Mack's right-field loudspeaker so hard that the old man had to buy a new horn. In all, Ted went six-for-eight, and .406 for his third season. That night, he went out, he went out for chocolate ice cream.
Who could tell what he'd do the next year: maybe .450, the best ever, or break the Babe's record of sixty homers. He got a contract for $30,000, and he meant to fix up his mother's house. He'd have more money than he'd ever expected. He was the toast of the nation. But then the nation went to war.
Ted wanted to play. He'd read where some admiral said we'd kick the Japs back to Tokyo in six months. What was that compared to hitting? A lawyer in Minnesota drew up a plea for deferment, and Ted okayed the request: he was entitled, as his mother's support. When the local board refused deferment, the lawyer sent it up for review by the presidential board. That's when the papers got it. In headlines the size of howitzer shells, they said Ted didn't want to fight for his country. Teddy Ballgame just wanted to play.
Tom Yawkey called to say he could be making the mistake of his life. The league president told Ted to go ahead and play. Papers ran man-on-the-streets polls. In Boston, Ted was bigger news than war in the Pacific. At spring training, Joe Cronin said he'd be on his own with fans. "To hell with them," Ted spat. "I've heard plenty of boos." Still, he remembered the venomous letters that said he was an ingrate or a traitor. The one that hurt the most said nothing at all: it was just a blank sheet of paper, yellow paper.
Opening day in Boston, reporters sat in the left-field stands, out there with soldiers and sailors, to record reaction to Ted. The Kid treated the day as a personal challenge. His first time up, two on, two strikes, he got a waist-high fastball and drilled it into the bleachers. All the fans rose to cheer, servicemen among them. The Kid was back, and Fenway was with him. "Yeah, 98 percent were for me," Ted said later, as he scraped his bat. A writer said: "You mean 100 percent. I didn't hear a boo." Ted said: "Yeah, they were for me, except a couple of kids in the left-field stand, and a guy out in right. I could hear them."
In May, he enlisted for Navy wings and that shut up most of the hecklers. Still, he was always in a stew of contempt for some joker who said something unfair. It seemed Ted courted the rage now, used it to bone his own fiber. Now there was no awkwardness, no blushing before he blew. It was automatic, a switch in his gut that snapped on and then, watch out for the Kid. One day in July, a fan in left was riding Ted pretty hard. Ted came to bat in the fifth: he took a strange stance and swung late, hit a line drive, but well foul into the left-field seats. Next pitch, again he swung late, hit another liner, but this stayed fair -- and Ted didn't run, barely made it to second. Cronin yanked him out of the game, fined him $250 for loafing. But Ted wasn't loafing, the hit caught him by surprise. He's been trying to kill the heckler with a line drive foul.
Ted loved the service, its certainty and ease. He never had a problem with authority. It was drawing his own lines that gave him fits. He had his fears about the mathematics, navigation problems, and instrument work. But at Amherst College, where the Navy started training, he found his mind was able, and he was pleased. And he loved the feel of an airplane. He was good, right from the start. There was coordination in it, and care: those were natural to him. And he was a constant student, always learning in the air. But he was proudest of his gunnery, the way he could hold back until the last pass, then pour out the lead and shred the sleeve. That wasn't study, that was art. He got his wings near the top of his class and signed on as an instructor at Pensacola, Florida. He was happy, and good at his job. Strangely, in uniform, he was freer than before.
On the day he was commissioned (second lieutenant, U.S. Marines), he married that daughter of the hunting guide, Doris Soule from Minnesota. Now, for the first time, he'd have a house, a place on the coast near the base. And now, on off days, he'd scrape up some gas stamps, grab his fly rod, find a lonesome canal, and lose himself in a hunt for snook. But back at the base, Ted would grab a cadet and take him up in his SNJ, and the new guy of course was goggle-eyed, flying with Ted Williams, and Ted would make his plane dance over the coast, then he'd dive and point, and yell to the cadet: "That's where the Kid fished yesterday."
Orders came through slowly for him. What base commander would give him up as ornament and outfielder? At last he got combat training and packed up for the Pacific. But Ted was just getting to Hawaii when Japan folded. So he packed up again for Boston, and now he felt he was going to war.
He came back like he owned the game. Opening day, Washington, after a three-year layoff: crack, a four-hundred-foot home run. And then another and another, all around the league. By the All-Star break in '46, he was hitting .365, with twenty-seven home runs. In the All-Star Game, Ted alone ruined the National League: four straight hits, two homers, and five runs batted in.
And the Red Sox were burying the American League. Tom Yawkey's millions were paying off. The team as a whole was hitting .300, and Ted was hammering the right-field walls. In the first game of two in Cleveland, he hit three homers, one a grand slam when the Sox were behind, the second with two on to tie, the third in the bottom of the ninth to win 11-10. As Ted came up in the second game, Cleveland's manager, Lou Boudreau, started moving men: the right fielder backed toward the corner, center fielder played the wall in right-center; the third baseman moved behind second, and Boudreau, the shortstop, played a deep second base; the second baseman stood in short right, the first baseman stood behind his bag. There were eight men on one half of the field (the left fielder was alone on the other) and Ted stood at home plate and laughed out loud.
There never had been anything like it. He had bent the nature of the game. But he would not bend his own, and slap the ball for singles to left. He hit into the teeth of the Shift (soon copied around the league), and when he slumped, and the Sox with him, the papers started hammering Ted again, his pride, his "attitude." At last, against the Shift in Cleveland, Ted sliced a drive to left-center, and slid across the plate with an inside-the-park home run, first and last of his career. The Sox had their first pennant since 1918. But the headlines didn't say, SOX CLINCH. Instead, eight-column banners cried that Ted stayed away from the champagne party. "Ted Williams," Dave Egan wrote in the Record, "is not a team man." And when St. Louis pulled the Shift in the Series and held Ted to singles, five-for-twenty-five, a new banner read: WILLIAMS BUNTS. And the Red Sox lost the Series, first and last of his career, and after the seventh game, in St. Louis, Ted went to the train, closed his compartment, hung his head, and cried. When he looked up, he saw a crowd watching him through the window. The papers wrote: "Ted Williams cannot win the big ones." The Associated Press voted him number two in a poll for Flop of the Year.
It seemed like Ted couldn't laugh anymore, not in a ball park. He said he was going to Florida to fish. He didn't want to see a bat for months. Soon that was a pattern: one year, before spring training, he tucked in a week in the Everglades. Next year, it was a month. Year after that, longer. In early 1948, the papers discovered that Doris was in a Boston hospital to deliver Ted's first child. But where was the big guy? In Florida? FISHING? The mothers of Boston pelted the press with angry letters. "To hell with them," Ted said. He didn't come north for two days. And two days later, he was back fishing. In two years, he'd moved Doris and his daughter, Barbara Joyce, to a house in Miami, the first he'd ever owned. Hut he never stayed home there either. He heard about some men in the Keys catching bonefish with light fly tackle. When Ted tried this new sport, he found a love that would last longer than any of his marriages.
The Keys were empty, their railroad wrecked by a hurricane in 1935. There were only a few thousand souls on one road that ran for a hundred miles; the rest was just mangrove and mosquitoes, crushed coral islands, and shining water. In Islamorada -- a town of one store, a bar, a restaurant, one gas pump -- a few fishing guides, led by Jimmy Albright, were poling their skiffs over shallows that only they knew, hunting bonefish and inventing an art as they went along. These were Ted's kind of men, who'd sneer or scream at a chairman of the stock exchange if he made a lousy cast. Islamorada was a strange meritocracy: if you could not play a fish, tie a fly, cast a line through the wind, you were no one in this town.
Ted could do it all, brilliantly. The guides didn't make much fuss about his fame, but they loved his fishing. His meticulous detail work, always an oddity at Fenway Park, was respected here as the mark of a fine angler. Ted had the best tackle, the best reels, best rods, the perfect line, his lures were impeccable. He'd work for hours at a bench in his house, implanting balsa plugs with lead so they'd sail off a spinning rod just so, then settle in the water slowly like fly. He could stand on the bow of a skiff all day, watching the water for signs of fish, and soon he was seeing them before the guides. His casts were quick and long, his power was immense. He never seemed to snap a line, never tangled up, his knots were sure, his knowledge grew, and he always wanted to know more. He'd question Jimmy relentlessly and argue every point. But if you showed him something once, he never needed showing again. He fished with Jimmy week after week, and one afternoon as he stood on the bow, he asked without turning his head: "Who's the best you ever fished?" Jimmy said a name, Al Mathers. Ted nodded, "Uh-huh," and asked another question, but he vowed to himself: "He don't know it yet, but the best angler he's had is me."
Every winter, he'd fish the flats, then head north to make his appearance at the Boston Sportsmen's Show. He'd spend a few days doing fly-casting stunts and then take a couple of hours, at most, to tell Tom Yawkey what he wanted for a contract. His salary was enormous. He was the first to break Babe Ruth's $80,000. Ted didn't care for the money as much as the record. It was history now that was the burr on his back. The joy was gone, but not the dream.
Every day, every season, he was still first to the ball park, where he'd strip to shorts and bone his bats; still first out to the cage, where he'd bark his imaginary play-by-play: "Awright, Detroit, top of the ninth..." Then back to his locker for a clean shirt and up at a trot to the dugout, to clap a hostile eye on the pitcher warming up, to pick apart his delivery, hunting for any weakness. No, Ted would not give up on one game, one time at bat, a single pitch. No one since Ruth had hit so many home runs per times at bat. No one in the league hit like Ted, year after year: .342, .343, .369, .343.... It seemed he never broke a bat at the plate, but he broke a hundred in the clubhouse runway. If he failed at the plate he'd scream at himself, "YOU GODDAMN FOOL!" and bash the cement, while the Sox in the dugout stared ahead with mute smiles. Once, after a third strike, he smashed the water pipe to the cooler with his bare fists. No could believe it until the flood began. And on each opening day, Ted would listen to the national anthem and he'd feel the hair rise on the back of his neck, and his bands would clench, and he'd vow to himself: "This year, the best ever."
In the 1950 All-Star Game, he crashed the outfield wall to catch a drive by Ralph Kiner. His elbow was broken, with thirteen clips off the radius. Surgeons thought he was through, but Ted returned in two months. His first game back, once again: home run, and four-for-four. But Ted could tell as weeks went by that the elbow was not the same. The ball didn't jump off his bat. So all next winter, Ted stayed in the Keys, where he poled a skiff, hunting bonefish and rebuilding his arm. He was pushing thirty-three now, just coming to know how short was his time. But then, after the '51 season, he was called back to the Marines, drafted for a two-year hitch in Korea. It seemed like his time was up.
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Hustler Turf Equip Lawn Mowers & Turf Care Equipment |
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Repower options on a Excel 260?
I called my local dealer and he gave me a number to call at Hustler. The guys I spoke with were very helpful and emailed me the parts and operators manuals PDF.
I just bought this 260 without an engine. It originally came with a Kohler MV20 57510 engine with a 1&1/8X3&5/32 shaft. This engine is nearly $2000. I'd like to explore some options on repowering it with a more economical powerplant. I'm going to have to buy engine pulleys and misc controls and a bunch of other parts to complete this machine. I'm a Master Auto Technician with 30+ years experience wrenching, so I'm up for the challenge. Any thoughts on this project would be appreciated. Edit/Delete Message |
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I love law, the environmental, sustainability, urban design, media, technology, and social justice.
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Veronica Belmont - about.me user since 2010
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Mrs. Elaine Janet Smith of Altoona, Fla. passed away Friday, Jan. 31, 2014. She was 79.
Born in Camden, N.J., she moved to Altoona from The Villages, Fla. in 2009.
She was a homemaker, and a Christian chairman of the Chaplaincy Committee for the past four years.
She is survived by her husband, Russell Smith of Altoona; her son, Jimmy Ash (Gina) of Gainesville, Fla.; and two grandchildren, Christina Ash and Andrew Ash.
A celebration of life will be held at 2 p.m. on Thursday, Feb. 13 at Lakeview Terrace Community Building with Rev. Bill Hartman, Rev. Bill Peters, Rev. June McManus, and Rev. Gary Robinson officiating.
Online condolences can be made at the funeral home's Web site below. Beyers Funeral Home,
Umatilla, Fla.


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Congratulations to the recipients of 2014 First Stick Grants from US Lacrosse! We are excited to see lacrosse in all of these areas and looking forward to your success.
Montrose High School
Telluride Youth Program
North High School Girls Lacrosse
North High School Boys Lacrosse
To learn more about the First Stick Grant Program from USL click here
US Lacrosse is pleased to recognize the hard work of local US Lacrosse chapters through the Chapter Recognition Award Program. Developed by the former Chapters Advisory Council, this program is designed to recognize chapters for their outstanding performance in fulfilling US Lacrosse's mission to provide programs and services to inspire participation while preserving the integrity of the sport. For the final quarter of 2013, US Lacrosse is proud to recognize the Colorado Chapter of US Lacrosse, better known as the Colorado Lacrosse Foundation (CLF), for its tremendous support of lacrosse in the state of Colorado. The CLF is USL's 11th largest chapter with close to 13,000 members within its geographic footprint. The chapter has a very effective executive board, led by chapter president Amy Lane. The Rocky Mountain Regional Lacrosse Convention has become one of the chapter's marquee events. This year's convention was held in early October, providing educational sessions to both coaches and parents. The chapter also incorporated an opportunity for players to attend through Fan Fest. Over 15 vendors attended, over 30 speakers presented and Bill Schoonmaker, US Lacrosse's COO, was featured as the keynote. Read more about CLF and this award HERE.
The Colorado Lacrosse Foundation, the Colorado chapter of US Lacrosse, has announced that Chris Clark, Dave Devine, and Tom Graesser will constitute the 2012 class of inductees into the Colorado Lacrosse Hall of Fame.
Chris Clark
After playing collegiate lacrosse at Denison, Chris Clark played Club lacrosse in San Francisco where he founded the Golden Gate Lacrosse Club. Moving to Denver in 1976, he coached the East-Manual HS team and then as his children started playing, coached for 7 years with the Panthers and has been involved locally ever since. Chris was Executive Director and coached Team Colorado U-15/U13 teams from 2004-2008. He helped coach the Heritage-Littleton Girl's HS teams in their fall/winter leagues and announced home games at Littleton HS for many years. Since 2005 he has served Colorado youth boys as President of the Colorado Youth Lacrosse Association and its predecessor, the Colorado Junior Lacrosse Association. During this time, he oversaw explosive growth in boy's youth lacrosse in Coloado: over 6,500 players participated on 325 youth teams from 36 Club organizations within Colorado in 2012. Chris has been instrumental in obtaining corporate sponsorships for the CYLA, implementing age-based playing divisions, standardizing coach and referee training, and a creating a CYLA State Championship weekend held at Dick's Sporting Good Park every spring. In January 2012 Lacrosse Magazine recognized Chris as one of the 10 people "Changing Youth Lacrosse Now" and is currently spearheading an effort to have the CYLA awarded a "Gold Stick Standard for Excellence" designation by US Lacrosse.
Dave Devine
Dave played lacrosse for Nassau Community College and for Cornell University. Along the way he garnered many awards. Dave was also chosen as the co-captain of the 1975 North-South All Star Team. He then went on to play on the Team USA team that played at the World Games in England in 1978. Then Dave went on to coaching for both collegiate (Nassau Community College and Colorado University), professional (Denver Rifles), and youth (Team Colorado, West Side Lacrosse and Storm Lacrosse). Dave currently serves as a Director for CYLA (Rules and Regulations) and has served as the President of West Side Lacrosse organization and of Storm Lacrosse. Dave started out as an outstanding lacrosse player who has continued to support and helped to grow the sport of lacrosse in Colorado.
Tom Graesser
Tom has spent over 40 years in the lacrosse coaching community with 31 of those in Colorado and has inspired many along the way. Young men and women have learned about humility, integrity, sportsmanship among other values from Tom. Numerous of his former players have gone on to be coaches themselves. His mantra was always, "win with class, lose with class and play with class." Tom played high school lacrosse in high school in Massachusetts and went on to play at Hobart College in NY. Kent Denver was Tom's coaching home for the past 31 years. Tom also coached at other schools before starting at Kent. Over the years he has accumulated Coach of the Year awards (7), Man of the Year award (2012), and numerous State Championships.
All three inductees will be honored at the 2012 Hall of Fame Dinner on Saturday, October 6, 2012. Tickets for the event are still available and can be purchased online.
Congratulations to this year's hall of fame inductees!
© Copyright 2013 US Lacrosse | All Rights Reserved | Terms/Privacy


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Bookcase: Beveled glass panes. Three adjustable shelves and brass grommets in each section. Open center section with three adjustable glass shelves. Halogen lighting with rheostat control in upper left section. Brass grommets in each section. Solid brass fixed key.
Credenza: Left pedestal has simulated drawer front, component storage area, adjustable shelf and grommet. Fully finished keyboard drawer with grommet. Right pedestal has small box drawer with writing tray, large box drawer and file drawer. Metal slides and metal support system for hanging files. Power distribution unit. Solid brass hardware. Case equipped with levelers.
Product Number:
HHBC92 Bookcase
HHCR92 Credenza
Bookcase W96 D18 H58
Credenza W95 D24 H30
Swan Neck


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Mon, Jan 3, 05 at 2:57
I'm getting real anixious to start my plant ordering. I have ordered seed from a few. My big want for 2005 is the Volcano Phlox. Our local paper did an article on it last year and I new I had to have it. Has anyone added this phlox to their collection? I'd sure like to know if it's everything they say it is. |
Follow-Up Postings:
Sanfan, Nope, but is sounds real interesting. Here is some more information on it from the breeder... Diann |
Here is a link that might be useful: Volcano Pholx
Tickertoo, I too would love to have some Volcano Phlox but had never heard of it when I sent my seed orders. I wonder if you can buy it at Lowes, etc. The pictures and description look wonderful. Jeannie |
Jeannie, beats me if you can get it at Lowes... But I would think a good nursery would probably have it.. Diann |
Monrovia is the company that wholesales them. Here in Waterloo I'll be able to get them at Earl Mays and Jordan's greenhouse. In Sumner there is a place called Maifeld Landscaping, they carry them too. I haven't found any catalogs that carry them. Their patent is still pending. Here's the Monrovia web address. You can find a dealer in your area. |
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Bennett Roll-Arm Conversation Sofa
Item# 207877
Starting at
Item#: 207877
custom made, allow 8-10 weeks, ships Premier Home Delivery, custom items may not be returned
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We offer many finishes and hundreds of beautiful fabrics to help you express your personal style.
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Bennett Roll-Arm Conversation Sofa
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- Arm Height: 25" high
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Item# bennett RA3C


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(formerly known as Silver Top Cabins)
We have cabins available for the holidays
Three night minimum
1-800-248-7967 for reservations
Nestled in the
tall pines and aspens of Cloudcroft, New Mexico, a four season resort
located in the
Sacramento Mountains (90 miles
north of El Paso, 2 hrs from the El Paso International Airport, 40 miles
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It's 9000 feet above stress level! |
1-800-248-7967 for reservations One or two full grown pets under 30 lbs are allowed for a fee during summer and fall seasons (with the exception of holidays and special event weekends.) Our cabins are non-smoking cabins...smoking is allowed outside on the porch. We do offer weekly rates... firstname.lastname@example.com for information Videos Cabins at Cloudcroft with Snow Time Lapse with sunset and stars...don't miss the end! |
It's a breath of cool air in the summer. It's the closest snow play area in the winter. It's vibrant colors in the fall. Its forest awakes in the spring. It's clear skies full of bright twinkling stars all four seasons...................... . You may need to disable your pop-up blocker, or temporarily allow them to view the links below Cabin Descriptions/Photos December/Jan Availability & Rates For dates after the holidays, call for availability...most dates are availabe. |
Cloudcroft Chamber and Visitor's Center
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Ruidoso Chamber and Visitor's Center


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The Darby Translation (DBY) | New International Version (NIV) |
3 For if any man reputes himself to be something, being nothing, he deceives himself; | 3 If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. |
The Darby Translation is in the public domain. (The Darby Translation Bible Online) | Scripture quoted by permission. Quotations designated (NIV) are from THE HOLY BIBLE: NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica. All rights reserved worldwide. (New International Version Bible Online) |