A September 28 Anniversary

September 28, 1941, was the last day of that year’s Major League Baseball season.  Before play began that day, Ted Williams, who played left field for the Boston Red Sox, was batting .39955.  Baseball’s rules would have rounded that up to .400.  The last player to hit .400 in the National League was Bill Terry, who hit .401 in 1930.  The last player in the American League to achieve that mark was Harry Heileman, who hit .403 in 1923.  It was a rare achievement.

Williams could have guaranteed himself a .400 season by sitting out that last day, when Boston was scheduled to play a doubleheader against Philadelphia (the Athletics, now the Oakland A’s).  His manager, Joe Cronin, gave him the option to sit for the express purpose of preserving a .400 season.

Williams had a difficult, complex personality.  He was not one to respect norms.  For example, many years later, he was in the Oval Office at some formal event during the Nixon presidency.  The person in charge of protocol introduced Williams to Nixon.  Supposedly, Ted said to Nixon, “How the f*** are you?”  Everyone in the room was stunned.  However, it turned out that Nixon already knew Williams.  Nixon, another individual not known for his social skills, supposedly said, “It’s OK. I’ve known this f***er for years.”

On that September day, Williams was neither difficult nor complex.  His attitude was “If I’m going to be a .400 hitter, I want more than my toenails on the line.”  He chose integrity over a sure thing and played in both games.  He had six hits in eight at-bats and finished the year with a.406 average.

He was the last player in either the National League or the American League to hit .400.  (The reason for referring to the two leagues that way instead of as “Major Leagues” is that three Negro League players hit better than .400 after 1941.  Major League Baseball counts Josh Gibson’s .466 in 1943 as the highest batting average achieved since 1941. That record was not set in the American League or the National League.)

Two players have come close.  Rod Carew hit .388 in 1977.  George Brett hit .390 in 1980.  Also, Tony Gwynn was averaging .394 in 1994 when a strike ended the season early.

It’s unlikely that anyone will hit .400 again.  Managers and statisticians know more than they did in 1941 about how to place their fielders against each batter their team will face.  Also, batters in our time face more fresh pitching arms.  Starting pitchers are not expected to pitch a complete game.  Middle relievers and closers ensure that batters face specialists whose skills have been honed to depress batting success.  Finally, the talent pool has grown much wider.  Baseball was racially segregated in 1941.  After racial integration, which began in 1947, came ethnic integration with the arrival of talent from Latin America, not to mention Japan.  (Just before the 1993 World Series – Toronto vs. Phillies – a Canadian visitor said to me, “Let’s see if our Dominicans are better than your Dominicans.”  They were, that year.)

Despite his decision to play and risk falling below .400 on the last day of the season, Williams’s achievement did not net him the MVP award that year.  That went to the more congenial Joe DiMaggio, whose record 56-game hitting streak in 1941 remains untouched after 85 years.

—Gerry Bresslour