prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08

2002-07-23 - 11:37 a.m.

Part 2

click here to read part 1

Convince him he did.

After flying all the way to Florida, and renting a car and driving to Key West, My papa, found his way to the little cove, where his brother Eddie was staying. He arrived just as dawn was streaking across the horizon. Eddie was both surprised and not at all surprised to find his big brother on his doorstep at 5 am. They thumped each other on the back and said " let's go fishing!"

and so they did.

and they somehow managed to align their boat with Ted's fishing party.

and my grandfather, also known as "he of the indisputable charm and Chutzpah" somehow talked his way into an invite onto Ted Williams boat.

and with his boyish charm and endearing ways, Papa won everyone over. Ted included. and they invited him to dinner.

and he went. and dined every night with them. telling them stories of his life and keeping them entertained, and in severe fits of laughter over his elaborate tales and amusing stories.

and then Papa invited everyone back to Rhode Island to Dinner at HIS restaurant.

and Ted laughed and promised that he would attend. and Papa spent every day fishing with Ted and his party. While everyone back in Rhode Island was convinced he had gone insane and left my grandmother.

" Did you hear what Joe did? left his wife in the middle of the night. I think he ran off with a woman ! snicker snicker. "She claims he went fishing with Ted Williams, poor dear"

The week wound to an end, and everyone had to return back to Boston. And my grandfather went home to Rhode Island the hero of his own folk tale.

and from then on, Papa had box seats to all of the Boston Red Sox home games. And my mother was forced into crinoline dresses and shiny mary jane shoes and threatened to be on her best behaviour or else. My mother remembers the games in a blur of sun filled misery and spent most of her time, watching the hot dog vendors. My grandfather, meanwhile was in his element of total glory, viewing his favourite game in the world, from the best seats in the house. His beautiful wife, wearing the latest in couture, white gloves and bright red lipstick, peering out from beneath cascading auburn ringlets. and the announcers mumbling in the background. PLAY BALL!

and years flew by. My grandfather had Ted to his restaurant often. They hosted the Jimmy Fund and raised alot of money, for a great charity and whenever Ted showed up at papa's restaurant, it would cause a HUGE sensation. Ted was so much bigger than life. The madonna of baseball, if you will. His reputation proceded him wherever he went. He literally entered a room, 15 mins before he got there, just because of who he was. To imagine what it was like for him, picture this. Unrelenting chanting of your name. news crews following your every step. People harassing you endlessly, for an autograph. Badgering you for photos, interupting your conversations, snapping pictures left and right, saving your silverware and framing your lobster bib like it is the Shroud of Turin.

how could any of us really understand what this life was like? We can not possibly comprehend how difficult, it must have been, to be a living legend. The public holds you within a measure of impossible standards. And Ted , like all human beings was flawed. He had quite a temper. He threw temper tantrums. He was impatient and loud and rude! he was also funny and generous and engaging. In some ways he was even child like. In he end, he could get away with anything. because he was, afterall, TED WILLIAMS!

but what does that mean?

I will tell you what it means, he was so much more than who he was. He had an extraordinary gift. for baseball and believe it or not, for fishing as well. and always it comes at a cost. His relationship with his children was extremely complex. I firsthand witnessed alot of it. And out of respect to all involved, do not wish to go into any detail here.

but I have my own memories of the man I called Uncle Ted. We have home movies of me chasing him around the back yard, when I was 2 yrs old and devilish. Wielding the garden hose as my weapon of choice, my laughter muted by the soundlessness of old 35 mm movies, you just see flickering pale images, one tall and lanky, one small and mischievous, one feigning horror and running away arms flailing and screaming, the small one laughing and squirting her victim with the cold spray of water. A two yr old chasing a living legend through a suburban florida back yard and both fall to the ground laughing.

and through the years, I enjoyed my brief encounters with Uncle Ted. When I was younger, I wondered if being with someone who commanded such attention made me important. But then, you begin to see through the facade. You see the person for who they are, not what they are. I never knew him as a baseball player, never knew him in his hey day. I knew him more as a fisherman. Someone who loved his dalmation dog Slugger, and could tell funny stories. His voice was loud and booming, his prescence filled every space. Sometimes I wondered how he and my grandfather could be friends , for both were commanding and liked to hold court. but there was a quiet reservoir of mutual respect that ran through them both. They would call each other names, and berate one another with the intimacy of great familiarity and comfort. When I lived in Citrus hills, with my grandparents, I would often bake my famous ~reeses pieces peanut butter chocolate chip cookies~ and bring them to Uncle Ted. He sometimes called me, to request swift delivery of another batch, pronouncing them the best cookies in the world.

He lived on the crest of the sweeping green Hills. Everyone who lived in Citrus Hills,Florida always referred to it, as " Ted's hill" with much reverie. It was both fitting and ominous for he lived up there, most of the time, alone. Seperate and higher than everyone else. and the best friend he ever had was his dog. and you would sometimes be summoned into Ted's life, called up to the hill, and find yourself standing in front of those mammoth double doors, ringing the doorbell and handing over a batch of still warm cookies. and invited inside, you would find, one of the world's greatest baseball players, in an open robe and slippers puttering around his big house because he can get no peace when he leaves the sanctuary of his hill. And so, the house with the big iron gates, with a huge number 9 on it, becomes the xanadu of the last great living emperor of baseball.

(Ted and Slugger)

Eventully, my grandfather and Ted had a falling out. Such big strong personalities for all their lives, it seemed ineveitable that one day they would clash. It seems they met at an impasse of stuborness and neither would negotiate. It involved money and honour and a gentleman's promise. and so my grandfather left this world, still loving the game of baseball but knowing the reality of dreams. human hearts beat inside living legends. Sometimes those hearts are lonely. Sometimes those hearts are afraid. Sometimes those hearts made mistakes. Sometimes those hearts drank to much and said the wrong things. Sometimes those hearts hurt people they never meant to hurt. Sometimes people cared more about who he was, than WHO he was. and everyone wanted a piece of the legendary pie and the reality of that can weigh heavily on a soul. It was not always easy being number 9.

I will miss you uncle ted. Not because you were a baseball legend. but because you let me chase you all around the back yard, and made me laugh. and that is, indeed some ( yet, not all ) of the truths about Uncle Ted~

and when I heard that Ted, had passed away, I closed my eyes, and saw this wonderful scene, for I imagine when Uncle Ted walked through the clouds, one of the first person's that was there to greet him, was my grandfather. And they hugged and shook hands and thumped each other on the back. and Ted's beloved dalmation came running to greet his master, and Ted bent down, and tossed his toy ball and slugger bounds joyfully after it and Papa tells Ted, you should See the fishing here! and Ted smiles, because afterall, fishing was always his idea of heaven.

Please make a wish and sign my Guestbook!

My star profile

	Enter your search terms Submit search form
�	Web wendchymes.diarylnd.com

(C) wendchymes 2008

Please make a wish and sign my Guestbook!