In 1995, when the Red Sox Hall of Fame was inaugurated, the first two players to be inducted -- those already in Cooperstown were automatically included -- were Johnny Pesky and Dom DiMaggio, the table setters for Ted Williams in the '40s and early '50s.

The ballroom of the Sheraton Boston Hotel was packed to the rafters for the occasion and among those present was Ted Williams himself, who had flown up from Florida to honor his two old friends. I had been invited to speak as kind of an opening act for the all-star cast that was to follow.

Researching DiMaggio's and Pesky's productivity in the years they played together, 1942 and 1946-51 (they both missed '43, '44, and '45 while serving in World War II) I was stunned to discover how productive they had been. I thought I had known something about their careers, but, taken together, their accomplishments were prodigious.

Dom batted leadoff in those days and Johnny hit second in front of the great Williams, the number three hitter. Between them, DiMaggio and Pesky averaged being on base more than 500 times a year. In 1949, for example, between hits and walks, they reached base safely an astounding 569 times. Dom batted .307 and had 186 hits, and Johnny, who hit .306, had 185 hits; Johnny walked 100 times and Dom had 98 free passes. The night of the gala, I cited those numbers, then got a tremendous crowd reaction when I said, "In a few minutes, we'll get Ted get up here to explain why he only had 159 runs batted in that year." (The most in a season he ever had.)

What I didn't say was that the Red Sox cleanup hitter back then, Vern Stephens, also had 159 RBI in '49 to tie Ted for the league lead, and that Bobby Doerr, the number five hitter, chipped in for 109 more for a grand total of 427 runs batted in, not bad run production from just three hitters.

I also neglected to mention that, despite their almost superhuman run production, the Red Sox lost the pennant (again) that year to the Yankees, reproving the truth of the old adage that good pitching beats good hitting.

The key to the success of both Pesky and DiMaggio was their discerning batting eyes. Excellent hitters, both knew the strike zone very well. Pesky had a career on-base percentage of .394 and DiMaggio of .383, both well above that of many hall-of-fame hitters. Batting in front of Williams, they had to earn their walks because to put runners on base ahead of number nine was considered to be suicidal.

We are now in an age when many experts deem on-base percentage (OBP) to be a more accurate measure of offensive effectiveness than batting average. Using OBP as a measuring stick, Williams is ranked at the top all-time with an OBP of .482, followed by Babe Ruth at .474. Ty Cobb, who had the highest batting average at .366, slips to 11th on the OBP list with a mark of .433. Barry Bonds, who set single season records in the years he is accused of using performance enhancing drugs (PEDs), comes in seventh for his career with an OBP of .444. The currently active player with the highest OBP is Mike Trout of the Los Angeles Angels at .419, more than 60 points behind Williams.

Joe DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak is among the most iconic records in baseball, but it pales in comparison to Williams' record of 84 straight games of reaching base safely.

From July 1 through Sept. 27 in 1949, the same year in which Dom and Johnny reached base all those times, there was not a single game in which Williams did not get on base safely with either a walk or hit or being hit by a pitch. The only players to ever come close to that are Joe DiMaggio, who drew a walk the day his hitting streak ended, then went on another 16-game streak and ended up with an on-base streak of 76 games in 1941; and Williams himself, who compiled a streak of 75 games between the '41 and '42 seasons.

His reputation for knowledge of the strike zone and his discerning batting eye were such that a perhaps apocryphal story gained wide credence. Ted was at-bat one day when he took a close pitch that the umpire, Bill Summers, called a ball. When the catcher, Joe Ginsberg, complained that it should have been called a strike, Summers told him, "Young man, Mr. Williams will let you know when the pitch is a strike."

Williams won six batting championships during his career and was robbed of a seventh in 1954 when he didn't have enough official at-bats to qualify for the crown, despite the fact that he led the league in bases on balls that year. Baseball changed the rule for qualification from official at-bats to plate appearances as a result, but it was too late to help Ted.

There are many who believe that hitting for power should be factored into the determination of who the greatest hitter was. In slugging percentage (SLG), Ruth and Williams switched positions in their all-time rankings, with Ruth finishing first with a lifetime percentage of .690 and Williams coming in second at .634. With Williams ranked number one in OBP and Ruth second, it is clear that any discussion of who the greatest hitter of all-time was begins and ends with them. They dominated the eras in which they played, and their stars continue to shine brightly long after they have passed from the scene.

So who was the greatest hitter of all-time? Was it Teddy Ballgame? Or was it the Sultan of Swat? Your guess is as good as mine.

And who were the best table setters? Was any combo ever better than Dom DiMaggio and Johnny Pesky? I dunno.

- Dick Flavin is a New York Times bestselling author; the Boston Red Sox "Poet Laureate" and The Pilot's recently minted Sports' columnist.