September 28, 1960 and #9. Forever intertwined in history.

An article on the Red Sox web site (part of my daily reading) reminded me of the historic day in baseball history on tap tomorrow, the 50th anniversary of Ted WIlliams last at bat.

September 28, 1960 and #9. Forever intertwined in history.

Ted Williams.

'The Kid.'

'The splendid splinter.'

'The John Wayne of baseball.'

September 28, 1960 was the stage for WIlliams final at bat at Fenway Park and the inspiration for John Updike's famous story in the New Yorker on the event. Both are two of my favorite moments in baseball history. 

I still marvel at the statistics Williams put up in his final year playing for a dismal Sox team: .316 avg, 29 home runs, 72 RBI, .451 OBP with 75 walks. Better than many folks in their prime in less legendary careers. Williams overall statistical achievements are hard to fathom, especially in light that he lost three full seasons in his prime to military service (1943, 44 and 45).

As baseball folk go, Williams swing is… poetry in motion. The quick load. The approach to the ball. The balance. The follow through. Poetry.

Looking all this over again reminds me of the chills I felt watching Williams appearance at Fenway Park during the All-Star game in 1999, the swan song for a baseball legend.

Was Ted Williams the greatest hitter that ever lived? If I were writing thee lineup card… you bet he'd be on it.

Fall is in the air

Fall... It's a sensory load, no doubt.


Colors cascade across the landscape like a blanket being pulled slowly from the sky to the ground. It reveals the dark, stark landscape below, setting the stage for Winter. The colors while it works... The vibrancy... Every year... Are hard to believe. Living in the North Eastern United States the majority of my life, the beauty of the Fall season has never escaped me. Some years are more vibrant than others. So it goes with life.


The sounds shift. The breeze has a crisper tone to it from the stiffness of the leaves left on trees or swirling about the ground. Tractors, wood splitters, raking of leaves, the snap of a wood fire. The smell of a simmering crockpot that fills the house... like today.

Roasts, stews, ales and breads of a heartier sort start making their way around. The smells are savory. My palate in particular... I enjoy this time of year thoroughly. The apple harvest makes it's way into... Everything. To this day, the thought of seasonal caramel apples... You know that scene in the movie Ratatouille, where the food critic is transported back in time? Powerful emotion. A spice of life.


With all the sensory shifts... I always get reflective this time of year. I enjoy the seasonal show, the sensory shift... And spend time soaking it in.


I've followed a slew of bloggers over the years: Seth Godin, Yong Zhao, Chris Lehmann, Gary Stager, David Warlik to name just a few but somehow I've avoided writing my own blog for nearly a decade. Not sure why really. There is always another thing on 'the list' to pull me away from this sort of writing. Perhaps I've been concerned about voicing my opinions in a format like this. Don't know.



So it's time. Time to carve out a chunk of reflective time to do this. Perhaps I just need to do some reflecting in this format to... Clear out my mind.


I'll see where it goes, how often I do it and on what topics. Right now, I'm sure it'll be a mixture of things... And that suits me just fine.


Writing something like this... On a phone and posting it to a blog... Though I've done this numerous times, it still makes me smile every time I do it.


Engage.


-- Posted from batphone