Farewell, Teddy Ballgame

"You know where you could put that hat," Williams said.

He asked me who my boss was. I said I had a lot of them. He asked who was the biggest boss, the boss of all the bosses. I said I guessed Ted Turner was the biggest boss. This was a CNN deal.

"Well, you tell Ted Turner that Ted Ball-game would like some remuneration, O.K.?" Williams said. "Tell Ted that Ted would like something he could fold and put in his pocket. You know?"

I said that since this was an interview to celebrate his 80th birthday, maybe we could work something out, come back for his 100th. He laughed. He said, Ha, if we were back for that, he would do that interview for free. Ha. For sure.

The good news was that he didn't die soon after that day. The interview was far from his last. Within a year he seemed to be everywhere. He was the lead character in all celebrations for the Team of the Century. He was at the 1999 All-Star Game at Fenway. He was at Cooperstown. He was at the Yogi Berra Museum in Montclair, N.J. He was with Ted Koppel late at night, with the Today show in the morning. He talked cooking with Molly O'Neill in the pages of The New York Times Sunday Magazine. He had a last triumphant tour.

I remember him going to his bedroom with the walker for his afternoon nap at the end of the interview. Final picture. The big event at night was going to be a Red Sox game on television, off the satellite. He wanted to rest. The cameramen were breaking down the equipment. Suddenly chimes rang out from the bedroom. They played the tune, Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here. They were a signal that Williams required assistance. The aide hurried to the room. A minute later he returned. He was laughing.

"Ted just wanted me to tell you one thing," he said. "Don't forget the part about the remuneration."

Not a disappointment. No. Never.