Salon.com News | Ted Williams, Bud Selig and baseball's very bad week Williams was intense, and he was all of a piece. Those who found him mysterious or inscrutable -- two words that littered many if not most of his obits -- were simply unwilling to take him at face value. He told us early on what he wanted: "All I want out of life is for when I walk down the street, people to say, 'There goes the greatest hitter who ever lived.'" I for one was happy to give him what he wanted. At a baseball-card show in Atlantic City several years ago, he limped by me in a hallway while I whispered out loud to my cousin's 12-year-old son, "Derek, there goes the greatest hitter who ever lived." Williams stopped in his tracks, turned his head, smiled, and winked at us. It was a wonderful moment, and cheap at the price.