[JimStinson]

More on Williams, I wrote this for SCD a while back

HOW I ALMOST BECAME BEST FRIENDS WITH THE GREATEST HITTER OF ALL TIME
It was 1969 and I was 13 years old. Islamorada Florida was part of a small cluster of islands that made up the Florida Keys. About a 45 minute drive from Miami across a series of narrow bridges and straight stretch of two lane highway, Islamorada was a sleepy fishing town, an oasis of marinas, restaurants and tourist hotels. A gas and soda stop for station wagons laden with wide eyed northeastern families on vacation and headed for Key West. To this kid from Rahway New Jersey on vacation with his family Islamorada was as far away from New Jersey as you could get and It was also home to the greatest hitter who ever lived, Ted Williams.

You had to know what you were looking for to find it, The house on Madeira. It was two blocks off of what could hardly be called the “main drag” in Islamorada. You made a right at “Lorilies” a small tavern and restaurant. There was a marina in the back and if you turned right and drove about 100 yards you could see the house . Behind a gate and tucked back from the road. Ted liked his privacy . It was on a large lush piece of property that sat smack on the water. You couldn’t see much of the house from the road but you could make out it was a house. In one of Mickey Mantle’s books he tells of passing through Islamorada with Billy Martin during spring training on their way to the “action” in Key West. Mantle was then a promising power hitting centerfielder with the Yankees and Williams was his idol. In his book the Mick said he entertained thoughts of dropping in for a visit at Ted’s house and got as far as the end of the driveway before even the great #7 chickened out and gunned the engine. Each year beginning in 1966 and continuing to 1972 for about 10 days each year. Ted Williams and I had one thing in common. We both lived in Islamorada.

Catching a sighting of the man himself in his native habitat would prove to be as elusive as a sighting of big foot. He had been here he had been there, rumors and small talk. His favorite restaurant was “Isa & Mannys” a small mom and pop place with about eight tables that served up Cuban food with an island flair. There was a picture on the wall of Ted Williams posed next to a giant tarpon. As a kid “Isa and Mannys” was my favorite restaurant too. Not for the food but for the possibility no matter how far fetched that Teddy Ballgame might stroll in and order a bowl of conch chowder. My plan was simple, if I could somehow get to meet him, shake his hand somehow get our paths to cross that I knew enough about baseball and fishing (I knew Ted loved to fish) that I’d be able to carry on an intelligent enough conversation that Ted and I would become buddies maybe even go fishing together. I guess as a teenager I was pretty damn naïve. On the last day of our vacation I’d convince my father to take one more spin past Ted Williams house on Madeira. Perhaps that would be the day Ted Williams would be raking leaves in the yard and we could have that long postponed chat. I guess Ted didn’t like to do yard work either.

Fast forward, 1985, I’m living in Ocala Florida, Ted still calls Islamorada home. I had discovered Jack Smalling’s “Baseball Address list” a few years earlier and amazingly you actually could write to many of the old time ballplayers and for the price of a SASE get an autograph through the mail. Joe DiMaggio would still sign for free then. It was like magic !. People looked at you a little funny if you told them you collected autographs but who cared, it was all about making that “connection” with these “Baseball Gods” from our youth. I found a great picture of Williams. An 8×10 of a young “Splinter” swinging a bat and looking skyward. I mailed it to Islamorada. A month had passed with no reply and I assumed that Mr. Williams had delegated my letter to the trash heap. Another pesky intrusion into his private life. Six months later an envelope arrived at my house with an Islamorada Florida postmark. Inside the photo was inscribed “To Jimmy, Your Pal, Ted Williams.” After these many years I was finally “Pals” with the “Splendid Splinter.”

Around that same time I had happened to be driving through Crystal River Florida and in a small shopping plaza spotted a sign for a baseball card shop “Talkin Baseball” . It seemed like everyone in those days was selling baseball cards. I’ve never had any interest in cards but an autograph collector which I certainly was could find occasional bargains in a card shop. Card shop owners had little or no interest or knowledge in autographs and the quicker they got rid of these unknown and foreign commodities the better. The owner of the card shop was a fellow named Vince Antonucci a name that would later be infamous in hobby circles and become by Ted Williams own admission the most despised man he’d ever met. Antonucci would one day become Ted William’s exclusive agent which is a lot like having 100 geese that lay golden eggs, he would also one day be featured on the TV show “America’s Most Wanted”.

In 1987 Ted Williams moved from Islamorada Florida to Citrus Hills which was a community being developed to lure retirees to the “good life” in Florida. And what better spokesman than the idol of their generation. The Florida Keys had grown too congested and Williams didn’t need much prodding by developer Sam Tamposi who had been a minority owner in the Red Sox after Tom Yawkey had died. Tamposi gave Williams a large tract of land and had a house built on the highest point in Citrus Hills. When I heard the news I couldn’t have been more elated as Citrus Hills was less than a 30 minute drive from my home in Ocala. In 1987 I was a full time autograph dealer and was finally starting to make a little money at it thanks in large part to something called a “Private autograph signing session”. Famous ballplayers had been appearing at card shows, shaking hands and signing autographs for a small fee. I figured I could cover more ground and provide greater accessability if I went to them paid their fee, had multiple items signed , documented the in-person encounter with a snapshot and then sold the autographed product nationwide. It doesn’t sound too innovative today but trust me in 1987 it was hot stuff. Now as if destiny had waved her wand Ted Williams and I who were already “Pals” (and I had the photo to prove it) were practically neighbors.

Flashback, 1937 San Diego California , 19 year old Ted Williams is playing for the San Diego Padres. One of the Pacific Coast League’s most popular teams. It was a stop off point for ball players at one end of their career or the other on their way out or on their way in. Ted was on his way in. In 1937 he was asked “Which pitch bothers you the most?”, “Can’t tell the difference” Williams replied “They all look like they are hanging out in front of the plate on a string”.

“Are you the fellow who buys old autographs?” “That’s me,” I said. “I saw your advertisement in Sports Collectors Digest, my father used to play ball in the PCL and I’ve got about a dozen signed baseballs, interested?” I bought the baseballs for $500.00, it was 1988 and five hundred dollars went a long way in 1988 if you were buying autographs. I can’t remember any of the balls today or who had signed them except for one. It caught my eye immediately. It was a PCL ball signed by the entire 1937 San Diego Padres team including the team’s young star Ted Williams. Wow! I finally had my letter of introduction. My “ticket” so to speak to meet the great Ted Williams in the flesh. Surely there was no one on earth that would treasure this ball more than the Splendid Splinter. What sentimental memories would this invoke? This was the last season playing ball in his hometown before moving on to Minneapolis and eventually to Fenway and greatness. I composed my letter to Williams thoughtfully and offered the baseball to him as a gift wanting to give it to him personally. Of course the thought did run through my mind that I would mention upon meeting him that since we lived so close together and since after all a “local” autograph dealer like myself who had done private signings with the likes of Bill Terry and Johnny Mize was only a natural to have as a contact. I had visons of Ted dropping by my house in Ocala and sharpie in hand signing a stack of photos & collecting his check. Heck we were almost business partners already. Or even better having an ice tea or lemonade on the porch (Ted wasn’t a drinker) or having my wife prepare his favorite a chocolate milk shake while we talked over how the Red Sox were doing or cussed about “Those Damn Yankees” (I had heard that Ted cussed a lot). It didn’t take long to get a letter back from Mr Williams, not nearly as long as it took for the signed photo to make its way through the mail back when he lived in Islamorada. I nervously opened the letter which had been written by a secretary but contained notes in shorthand to indicate that it had been dictated directly from Williams himself. He would be delighted to have the ball. The letter said. In fact a Ted Williams Museum was being built near his home and it would be a welcome addition to display there. He mentioned that he too would want to pick it up personally in Ocala or have me bring it by his house. He said he had a few things going on but as soon as his schedule would permit he would be in touch. I don’t know if he ever tried to call me and I wasn’t home or maybe even tried to stop by and I wasn’t there. This I do know, shortly after he wrote the letter to me Ted Williams happened to be going grocery shopping in a small shopping plaza near his home and spotted a sign for “Talkin Baseball.”

Vince Antonucci’s Crystal River Baseball card shop. He wandered in unannounced and Vince became his friend, confidant and business agent. In fact it was to come out later during the sizable legal quagmire that would surround the ill fated venture that Antonucci not content to simply be Ted’s business manager was able to persuade him to become a PARTNER!! Investing large sums of his own money in the company that was now called “Ted William’s Talkin Baseball.” Inventory and money tended to disappear until the day that Teddy Ballgame showed up in front of the store with a ladder and began tearing his name off of the storefront. In the legal battles that would follow there were no winners, Williams poured thousands upon thousands into legal representation. Antonucci was found guilty and sentenced to five and a half years in jail and ten years probation and was ordered to pay back the money he had taken from Williams. Paroled in 1993 after only a year and a half of actual jail time Antonucci skipped town. Reports surfaced from around the country of a man representing himself as Ted William’s former business manager, always with car loads of purported signed Ted Williams photos and balls for sale to finance his cross country travels. According to court files Antonucci had surrendered only about one and a half pages of items from a sixty-five page list of inventory that it was determined he still owed Williams. Furious Williams had his story presented on the popular TV show “America’s Most Wanted” Vince Antonucci’s picture was on every TV set in America and within 24 hours he was captured in Anacortes Washington and placed in custody. Williams appeared at the courthouse when Vince was sentenced again and led away in leg irons. Estimates of the cost to Williams from the con man’s scheme and capture and conviction were estimated to have ran from one to three MILLION dollars! As a result of this fiasco his son John Henry would take over the reins to “protect” his father from other “scam artists”. It was like going from the frying pan into the fire.

After two years I finally sold the 1937 San Diego Padres team signed baseball to a collector. I figured that from here on out that it wouldn’t be a good idea to talk to Ted Williams about signing any autographs and that my being an autograph dealer would preclude our sipping lemonade together on my front porch anytime soon. My hopes would be permanently dashed on July 5th, 2002 a day after my 46th birthday, When I saw reported on the news that Ted Williams had died he was 83 years old.

I never did meet Ted Williams, never got to be best friends as I had hoped, never got to talk about baseball or fishing or anything else for that matter. I saw him in person once. It was at a hotel in St Petersburg Florida about ten years before he died. The occasion was a Baseball alumni Old Timers weekend. I was staying at the hotel and was seated in the lobby. There was a crowd of about thirty people with photos and baseballs all near a side entrance where it was rumored Williams would be arriving shortly. I could hear the sound of paper rustling as baseballs were torn out of their boxes and saw the group pushing close together arms outstretched. A booming voice could be heard above the din “I’M NOT SIGNING ANY DAMN AUTOGRAPHS!” he went directly to the elevator door which someone had held open for him. I watched as the door slowly closed.

The fishing isn’t that great in Islamorada anymore, its been fished out. The old two lane has been replaced by a four lane highway and you have to run for your life just to cross the street. Large concrete bridges have replaced the small narrow rickety ones. “Isa and Manny’s” restaurant is still there. They moved up the street from the old site. Someone stole the picture off the wall of Ted Williams posed next to the giant Tarpon. The large lot on Madeira has been divided up and they were building another house next to Ted’s old house which you still can barely see from the road. I still have my autographed picture that I got through the mail from Ted Williams. The one that’s signed “To Jimmy, Your Pal”