Showing posts with label My Turn At Bat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Turn At Bat. Show all posts

Monday, April 20, 2015

Ted Williams Debuts For The Boston Red Sox April 20, 1939

On This Day in Baseball History April 20. 1939: 20-year old Boston Red Sox rookie outfielder Ted Williams made his debut against the New York Yankees at Yankee Stadium. Williams would start in Right Field and bat fifth in the lineup. Williams would get his first career hit, a double and went 1 for 4 with three putouts in the field in a 2-0 loss.

The New York Times article Yanks Blank Red Sox Before 30,278 at Stadium Opener dated April 21, 1939 makes nary a mention of Williams. The only time he is mentioned is in respect to catching a line drive, that the fading Lou Gehrig hit with runners in scoring position, that seemed to "lack the old Gehrig depth". Since the paper didn't say much about Williams, I decided to go straight to the source. According to pages 60 and 61 of Ted Williams' autobiography My Turn at Bat: The Story of My Life:
I'll never forget that day sitting on the bench watching the Yankees take batting practice. I'm all eyes and ears. Lou Gehrig was still on the club, the only time I ever saw him play. He was already sick, and nobody knew it. He looked tired just walking up the stairs after the game. But there they were, Frank Crosetti and Charlie Keller and DiMaggio and Tommy Heinrich and Bill Dickey. A hell of a lineup. And Joe Gordon. I'm watching them, studying them all, and I remember so distinctly - this was one of those ten days - I said to myself, I know I can hit as good as these guys. Just a young kid's reaction, seeing the greats, building up his confidence.
Painting By Graig Kreindler
Red Ruffing was the Yankee pitcher. I watched him warm up - a big guy, I mean big, but a real easy-going style, like he didn't give a damn. When he came in with it though, the ball whistled. I got up the first time and fouled one off, then he threw me a little curve and I fouled that one off too, then he struck me out on a high fastball. The second time up the same thing: curve, curve, high fastball, strike three
Well, here's this smart-talking kid rookie from California striking out in his first two times up, and burning. I got to the bench and plopped down, and out of the corner of my eye I see ol' Jack Wilson, one of our pitchers, coming to me. We'd be needling each other all spring, and I'd been telling him how I was going to wear Ruffing out, and Jack's really got the old needle out now. He says, "Whata ya think of this league now, Bush?"
By this time I'm boiling. I said, "Screw you. That is one guy" - pointing to Ruffing - "I know I am going to hit, and if he puts it in the same place again, I'm riding it out of here."
Well it so happened the next time up Ruffing hot it high again, and I hit one to right center just a foot from going into the bleachers. I'd gotten under it a little bit or it would have gone out.
When I got to second base, there was Gordon. We played against each other on the coast in 1937, and he came over smiling. "You nervous?"
I said, "Boy, am I. Nervous as hell."
It turned out to be a wonderful first year for me.
Well that's an understatement. Not only was it a wonderful first year for Williams, it would be one of the best first years for any player. In 149 games, Williams finished his rookie season with a slash line of .327/.436/.609 with 185 hits (44 2B/11 3B/31 HR) and 145 RBI. Williams walked 107 and struck out a career high 64 times.

To me, out of all of Williams' rookie statistics, this is the one that stands out to me. He never struck out more than 64 times in a season AFTER his rookie season. The most he struck out after 64 times was 54 times and that was the NEXT season. Most players as they age and continue to develop their power stroke end up gaining more strikeouts. Not so for Ted Williams.

He would finish 4th in the Most Valuable Player race after Joe DiMaggio, teammate Jimmie Foxx and Bob Feller. It would be one of the only two seasons (along with 1952 when Williams served in the Korean War) that Ted Williams wouldn't be an American League All-Star.

Here is the box score of the Boston Red Sox vs New York Yankees game of April 20, 1939:


To look at Ted Williams' career statistics is just mind boggling. Give them a look: Ted Williams career statistics courtesy of Baseball Reference. We'll never see a hitter like Ted Williams ever again.

Until Then Keep Playing Ball,
Baseball Sisco
#baseballsisco
#baseballsiscokidstyle

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Ted Williams Finishes With a .406 Batting Average September 28, 1941

On this day in Baseball History September 28, 1941: Entering the last day of the 1941 season, Ted Williams led the league with a .39955 batting average. Sitting out the doubleheader to end the season against the Philadelphia Athletics would have given Williams a .400 average. Instead of being given the achievement, Williams decided to play both games going 4 for 5 in the first game and 2 for 3 in the second game finishing the season with a .4057 batting average rounded up to .406. In doing so, Williams became the first Major League to hit .400 or more since Bill Terry of the New York Giants hit .401 in 1930. Williams became the first American League player to hit .400 or more since Harry Heilman did so in 1923.

The article Star Gets 6 Hits As Red Sox Split from the September 29, 1941 edition of the New York Times states:
Williams made his thirty-seventh home run and three singles in five chances in the opener, and a double and a single in three attempts in the second encounter.

For the season he batted in 120 runs, scored 135 and walked 151 times. He struck out twenty-six times. Williams is the sixth American Leaguer to bat .400. Nap Lajoie, Ty Cobb, George Sisler, Joe Jackson and Heilman were the others. Jackson hit .408 for Cleveland in 1911, but lost the batting title to Cobb, who finished with .420.
Here are the boxscores for the two games played by the Boston Red Sox against the Philadelphia Athletics on September 28, 1941:


What did Ted Williams think about his chase for .400? On pages 85 and 89-90 of the book My Turn At Bat: The Story of my Life by Ted Williams with John Underwood, Williams describes what he felt that fateful day:
It came to the last day of the season, and by now I was down to .39955, which according to the way they do it, rounds out to an even .400. We had a doubleheader left at Philadelphia. I'd slumped as the weather got cooler, from a high of .436 in June, down to .402 in late August, then up again to .413 in September. In the last ten days of the season my average dropped almost a point a day. Now it was barely .400. The night before the game Cronin offered to take me out of the lineup to preserve the .400. They used to do that. Foxx lost a batting championship to Buddy Myer one year when he sat out the last game and Myer got two hits.

I told Cronin I didn't want that. If I couldn't hit .400 all the way I didn't deserve it. It sure as hell meant something to me then

Now it was the last day of the 1941 season, and it turned up cold and miserable in Philadelphia. It had rained on Saturday and the game had been rescheduled as part of a Sunday doubleheader. They still had 10,000 people in Shibe Park, I suppose a lot of them just curious to see if The Kid really could hit .400. I have to say that I felt good despite the cold. And I know just about everybody in the park was for me. As I came to bat for the first time that day, the Philadelphia catcher, Frankie Hayes, said, "Ted, Mr. Mack told us if we let up on you he'll run us out of baseball. I wish you all the luck in the world, but we're not giving you a damn thing."

Bill McGowan was the plate umpire, and I'll never forget it. Just as I stepped in, he called time and slowly walked around the plate, bent over and began dusting it off. Without looking up, he said, "To hit .400 a batter has got to be loose. He has got to be loose."

I guess I couldn't have been much looser. First time up I singled off Dick Fowler, a liner between first and second. Then I hit a home run, then I hit two more singles off Porter Vaughn, a left-hander who was new to me, and in the second game I hit one off the loudspeaker horn in right field for a double. For the day I would up six for eight. I don't remember celebrating that night, but I probably went out and had a chocolate milk shake. During the winter Connie Mack had to replace the horn.
The last player to come close to the .400 plateau was Tony Gwynn of the San Diego Padres. Gwynn hit .3938 during the strike shortened 1994 season. The last player to come close during a full season was George Brett of the Kansas City Royals. Brett hit .3898 during the 1980 season.

Williams narrowly missed winning the American League Triple Crown (2nd in RBI to Joe DiMaggio's 125 RBI) and would follow his 1941 campaign with the American Triple-Crown in the 1942 season. He would be the runner up in the American League MVP race to Joe DiMaggio and Joe Gordon of the Yankees. Williams would join the war effort, losing three full seasons before returning to play in the 1946 season where he continued with his hitting finally winning the American League MVP award. Williams was truly an amazing player and I wish that I had the opportunity to have watched him play in person.

Getting four hits out of every ten at-bats over the course of an entire season is a daunting task. Hitting .400 for the season, let alone reaching Williams' .406 seems to be one of those records that will probably not get broken in this era of free swinging hitters, batters who don't choke up and defend the plate with two strikes and high strikeout totals. Will we ever see .400 or more in our lifetime? I wouldn't bet on it but with the game of baseball, you just never can tell.

Until Then Keep Playing Ball,
Baseball Sisco
#baseballsisco
#baseballsiscokidstyle

For Further Reading:
- Click here to access Ted Williams' career statistics from Baseball Reference.com
- Click here to access the article What Do You Think of Ted Williams Now? by Richard Ben Cramer from Esquire Magazine dated January 8, 2013 originally published in the June 1986 issue of Esquire