Hitter : the life and turmoils of Ted Williams /

In 1991, the fiftieth anniversary of the year Ted Williams hit .406, a brace of books was published focusing on the man many consider the greatest hitter of all time. Each was well done; the mercurial Williams is a worthy subject. Linn, author of biographies of Bill Veeck and Leo Durocher, first saw Williams play in 1939. Williams was a Red Sox rookie then, and Linn was a 13-year-old fan. Their careers intersected many times over the years, starting with Linn's 1954 profile of Williams for Sport magazine. That Linn is an admirer of Williams is obvious, but his feeling for his subject never interferes in this painstaking account of the Splendid Splinter's career. Linn has great fun with Williams' early Red Sox years, when the fans adored their new hero and it was common for Williams to bring his latest pal--be he cabdriver, cop, or just plain fan--with him to the clubhouse. Things changed dramatically, of course, and Linn also supplies an evenhanded treatment of Williams' later controversies with the press and eventually fans. Though Linn focuses almost exclusively on Williams the ballplayer, revealing little of the man, it can be argued that in this case the ballplayer was the man. Make room for this one alongside all the other Williams books; it's a keeper. ~--Wes Lukowsky

Veteran baseball writer Linn ( Veeck--As in Wreck ) here looks at the life of ``Splendid Splinter'' Ted Williams, perhaps the greatest natural batter of the modern era. Son of a fanatically religious mother and an alcoholic father, the often neglected young Williams, who was born in 1918 and raised in San Diego, Calif., spent countless hours by himself compulsively learning the intricacies of hitting a baseball. Linn follows Williams from his start as a Boston Red Sox rookie in 1939; the .406 batting average of 1941; the 1946 championship team; his 39 combat flights during the Korean War; and the dramatic home run in his final at-bat in 1960. Much of the book deals with Williams's love-hate relationship with the Boston press and fans--virulent, surly and sometimes downright obscene. But we are also shown Williams the champion of the underdog and strong supporter of the Jimmy Fund children's cancer charity. The book gives us an in-depth look at the rich and colorful personality of Williams; its only fault is that it leaves us looking for more. Photos. (Apr.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

How does Ted Williams compare with today's stars of the game? One can only wonder what Williams's salary would be in today's market. The recent election of Reggie Jackson to baseball's Hall of Fame reminds this reviewer of one statistic: In his 20-year career, Williams had only one season in which he hit less than Jackson's career batting average. Linn's book is not a typical game-by-game baseball biography but a series of snapshots of Williams's career. The coauthor of Veeck--as in Wreck (1962) touches on the many high points but does not neglect Williams's warts, including his constant battle with Boston baseball writers. The product of an unhappy childhood, Williams formed close friendships with the ``underdog'' and gave unsparingly of himself to a charity for combating cancer in children. Recommended for all public libraries.-- William O. Scheeren, Hempfield Area H.S. Lib., Greensburg, Pa. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

An unusually thoughtful sports bio that puts the accomplishments and contentious nature of Ted Williams into clear perspective. As much a fan as a Boswell, Linn (Steinbrenner's Yankees, 1982, etc.) offers an essentially sympathetic, albeit unsparing, portrait of the last major leaguer to hit over .400 (.406 in 1941). Drawing on personal observations, plus archival sources and interviews with contemporaries, he provides a detailed account of Williams's Hall of Fame career with the Boston Red Sox, which (with time out for military service) ran from 1939 through 1960. Apart from an overview of the Splendid Splinter's lonely childhood in San Diego, however, the author has comparatively little to say about the thrice-married Williams's private life. Instead, Linn focuses on the batting feats and boorish behavior that brought his subject opprobrium as well as acclaim in his largely adversarial relationship with the press, which consistently damned him with faint praise. Covered as well are the disabling injuries and two tours of active duty as a Marine Corps flier (including one in combat during the Korean War) that kept Williams from scaling even greater heights in the record books. The author also discloses Williams's charitable activities, ranging from quiet visits to children's hospitals to painful public appearances on behalf of New England's Jimmy Fund. What Linn does best, though, is to analyze statistical data (e.g., on-base average) to document the genuinely productive value that Williams (now 74) added to his team season after season. An unsentimental appraisal that succeeds in giving human dimensions to a baseball legend and in putting fresh luster on his fabled achievements. (Photographs--not seen.)