Ted Williams was indisputably the greatest hitter in the game of baseball. The last player in MLB to bat over .400 in a single season (.406 in 1941), he was a two time American League MVP winner and still holds the highest career batting average of anyone with 500 or more home runs. Over the course of two decades Williams quietly advanced to the top of his profession earning accolades from his peers on and off the field.
Red Sox fans applauded their hero's multi-tiered success but on occasion turned on the thin-skinned slugger, booing and heckling him at the slightest sign of weakness. This bugged the hell out of Williams and he would mutter under his breath and eventually stop tipping his cap to these idiots. What the hell was this all about? Nobody ever booed Hoot Gibson or John Wayne. What kind of world had he landed in? Maybe a .344 career batting average might be better appreciated somewhere else. Perhaps in the future, away from the drooling slobs of Fenway Park, there dwelt an appreciative civilization where attaining everlasting life and eternal gratitude is only slightly more complicated than joining Netflix. Pumped up with steroids to end all steroids, a sports legend could roam the earth like a king--living, loving and playing ball with only the finest merchandising deals laid like rose petals at his frozen cleats. Ted squinted into the left field bleachers and with the saint-like fortitude that he often brought to the plate, sucked in his breath and waited.
In 2002 after a series of strokes and congestive heart failures, Ted Williams died of cardiac arrest at age 83. According to the wishes of his kids Claudia and John-Henry, his remains, along with theirs were to undergo neuropreservation (wherein the human brain is lopped off and pickled with the intention of attaching it to a healthy body at some point in the future). After much litigation the grisly task was carried out and Williams was soon left with nothing but six inches of air above his strike zone. Currently TW's head and separated torso can both be found bobbing in liquid nitrogen at -196°C at the Alcor Life Extension Foundation in Scottsdale, Arizona (free tours available). However recent developments suggest that Ted's head might have been sitting forgotten on an empty tuna fish can for the past several years. Reportedly a lab slacker, in an inspired pique of curiosity and boredom, at some point used the head for batting practice with a monkey wrench. Alcor denies this allegation.
There also exists the possibility that Williams' final chilly request was pure bunk. Claudia and John-Henry insisted that Ted signed an impromptu contract on a napkin requesting that his head be sawed off in the interest of cheating death. Upon closer inspection the signature is said to be genuine, with language added after the fact, forged Mr. Haney-style to resemble a legal document. Ted's eldest daughter Bobby-Jo from a previous marriage called bullshit on the whole deal but the Florida circuit court rubber-stamped the bizarre request anyway.
Perhaps one day the thawed sports legend can show us in person a thing or two about swinging in the zone or blasting one through the pitcher's box. Until then, let us praise this macabre hitting dynamo with a recording he made for the Sears record label: Tips On How To Become A Better Hitter.