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Bittersweet tale of tapes
By Dan Shaughnessy, Globe Columnist, 7/16/2002
Unfortunately, John Henry isn't talking to the media. John Henry's lawyer said he didn't think his client ever would explain this bizarre decision, which has been universally ridiculed and scorned. Having periodically witnessed the interaction between Ted Williams and his son over the last 10 years, I can say that I believe the son loved his father and the father loved his son. Ted wanted John Henry to control his affairs and gradually turned everything over to his son. Along the way, John Henry managed to anger and offend many who were close to Ted. But Ted Williams - the Splendid Splinter with the 20/10 vision in his prime - had a blind spot for his son and would not listen to critics of John Henry. In any family, this is not atypical. In August of 1998, Ted said this about his son: ''He's a great guy and he's doing pretty damn good. He's working hard and he has a damn good modern advanced Internet ... ''You know, I never was sure how smart John Henry was. If I'd realized how smart he is, I'd have got him set on maybe a couple other avenues of life. He's a smart guy. With his abilities as I see it now, the sky's the limit.'' That's the way the conversations would go. He often joked about dying. He'd say, ''I'm going to come up there and see you before I kick the bucket.'' Commenting on the demand for his autograph, he'd chuckle and say, ''They think you're going to die, I guess. `Let's get this before he dies.''' Ted liked me only because he liked my daughter. Kate Shaughnessy started battling leukemia in 1993 and Ted always wanted to make sure she was OK. That's the way he was. As a result, he always would return my phone calls and there's a drawer full of Ted tapes in my office. I listened to most of the tapes over the weekend. In these strange days, as the Williams children battle in court, these Ted outtakes provide a small window into his life as his health declined in the last eight years. From July 6, 1994, months after his second stroke: ''If there was ever a candidate for this thing [stroke], it was me. Because I was involved with 40 different things. That museum was a big project and I had some business things that were playing on me and I was just trying to do too much. It was harder as I got older because there was more demands on you. ''I certainly am improving all the time but my quality of life has changed. I can't move and I can't drive. But I can see and I can read, but not great. My appetite's good. They say I'm still all there in my brain, I'm not sure of that. ''Doc tells me, `We'll let you know when you can travel.' God, they want me to go here and there. And some of 'em I want to go to. But I just have to take it a little bit easy.'' On baseball memorabilia: ''That shows you the great interest in baseball in the country ... I think I've been lucky that way. I've made a little money with it and it's been a damn nice thing in a lot of ways. I get to meet a ton of people and it brings up old memories. ''I can sign, but I need more time to sign now, where I used to whip 'em out pretty good. Now I have to make sure I'm getting it in the right place.'' On John Henry's hitting: ''He showed some ability to hit, but he hit lefthanded and righthanded and he did it [switch hit] much better than I ever could have done. I told him, `Jeez, stay after that.' We sent him to Ted Williams Baseball Camp and one of the coaches got on his ass. So he tells his mother and his mother took him out of the camp. But he showed aptitude swinging lefthanded.'' From July 6, 1995: ''I'm feeling pretty good. I'm busy all the time, going to the doctor, going to another test, doing my exercises or getting treatment on my shoulder. Nothing serious, just on the go. I walked three quarters of a mile today. I'm tired when I get back. Then I take a nap if I can get to it. ''It [baseball] certainly is the greatest game. Nothing's ever going to destroy this game unless it's their own selves.'' From May 15, 1998: ''I get tired and my patience isn't as good. I'm not as happy as I'd like to be because, you get older, you can't do this, you can't do that. But the thing I value more and more and more in my life is that I have a ton of wonderful friends. That's the greatest thing in my life.'' Asked if he would make it to Boston for the 1999 All-Star Game, he said, ''Jeez, I may not even reach that.'' From Aug. 27, 1998, when Mark McGwire was en route to 70 home runs: ''We finally got an Irishman in the news. McGwire could do it. He's a powerful guy. Baseball's really on a surge, isn't it? ''I'm getting along pretty good, I think. I can't run, I can't fish, and I don't see that good. I can't drive, but I have wonderful help around me. And if they don't please me, I have to get rid of 'em. I want to have it kind of good while I'm around. Thank God there's a television. That's one thing that any person who can't do a lot of things can be thankful for. ''When I get through with you guys [interview], I'll lay down. I listen to the news ... My dog [Slugger] is getting to be an older dog and is as important to me as anything in my life. ''The tough part as you get older, sonofabitch, you lose a friend, some guy you've known for 50 years. That's the sad part of getting older. But the compensating factor is that I have really got a ton of friends. ''I've had a lot of real close calls in my life and here I am, still kicking ... I don't want to live to be a helluva lot older than I am.'' From October '98, when the Red Sox played the Indians in the playoffs: ''I sure am glued in on the TV and I'm pulling like hell for 'em.'' From July 9, 1999, after touring the Jimmy Fund Clinic: ''First of all, you got to let [young patients] know you're interested in 'em, and I was. It was easy for me to do that. If you get more experienced you ask, `Well, how do you feel? How are you getting along? How's your mother? How's your father?' Conversation. And then they start to warm up. All my life, my mother was at the Salvation Army and there were always poor people around and that reflected on me a little bit. And as a kid, growing up in the Depression. But I've been given a million times more credit for anything that I've done. ''I don't know why a lot of this [All-Star] weekend has been centered around me, I really don't. OK, sure I hit a couple of home runs ... ''I feel so good about how lucky I was in baseball. It was the thing I wanted to do, the thing that meant the most to me in my life, and that was my greatest accomplishment. ''I had a little hard time in civilian pilot training. Then I was sent to Amherst and I realized college could be fun in a place like this. I'm proud of the fact that I got through. How lucky I was to get as far without much education.'' There would be no more taped conversations with Ted Williams. He underwent 9 1/2 hours of open-heart surgery in January of 2001 and never gave another substantive interview. Last September, his great voice reduced to a whisper, he said, ''My whole life has been knocked out of joint ... I really have been through hell.'' Dan Shaughnessy is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is dshaughnessy@globe.com.
This story ran on page F1 of the Boston Globe on 7/16/2002.
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o armchair psychology today. I cannot explain why John Henry Williams is fighting to keep his dad's remains frozen in a tank in Scottsdale, Ariz. I'd like to think it's because he simply can't let go and wants his dad to be the first true immortal ballplayer. But it could be some sinister extension of the already mad world of memorabilia.