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It seems like baseball swings are taught these days and there is very little personal variation with the swing itself. It’s all pretty formulaic. I would point to Charlie Lau when he was hitting guru for the KC Royals during the George Brett era as the man that standardized hitting.

How many players do we see now with a slightly opened stance; short, or non-existent stride; compact swing; and a top-hand release? Just about everybody does it that way now.

Junior just generated so much bat speed that if he got square on the ball it was going to go a long way. Different kind of power since he was a long skinny kid. And yet you couldn’t really tie him up by pitching inside.

I almost don't want to think of what would have happened if Charlie Lau or Walt Hriniak had ever caught hold of people like Mel Ott, Stan Musial, Ty Cobb (you think that split-handed grip would have flown with Churlish Charlie or Uncle Walt?), Hank Aaron (the reverse-handed grip he started his career using), Mike Schmidt (I can just hear Churlish Charlie now: Sit on it, Swivelhips!), Jack Clark (The Ripper used to pump his back leg as he launched into his swing, a kind of secondary power generator and a lot of his bombs weren't mere homers, they were conversation pieces), or Darryl Strawberry (who had an almost Ott-like front leg kick when he swung) . . .

Junior just generated so much bat speed that if he got square on the ball it was going to go a long way. Different kind of power since he was a long skinny kid. And yet you couldn’t really tie him up by pitching inside.

His kind of bat speed wasn't just good for hitting for distance---he was quick enough to hit one down the lines if need be, hard enough to elude an oncoming outfielder. He was also pretty good at dumping balls into the gaps if he took a pitcher's measure and figured he wasn't going to get much of anything to try driving the distance.

As for pitching him inside, the only way to get him out inside was to pitch him above the belt. You pitch him inside between his belt and his knees and, when his swing was right, one of two things would happen: a) He'd rip one right down the right field line; or, b) he'd fist it the other way and usually find himself a hole for a hit. And not necessarily a single base, considering his speed . . .

Prettiest swing I ever saw: A dead heat between Junior and the Straw. Ugliest swing I ever saw: Rich Gedman, for a time the Red Sox's catcher.

Most monstrous home run I ever saw: Dave Kingman, in spring training 1975, watching a contest between the Mets and the Yankees---whose pitcher was the freshly-made-millionaire Catfish Hunter. Kingman caught hold of a Hunter slider and drove it over the wall, out of the yard, higher than the six tall palm trees behind left field, and the ball didn't land until it reached second base on the practise field behind the field on which the game was played. Not even the blast Jack Clark hit to break Los Angeles's heart when Tommy Lasorda decided it was smart to pitch to him with first base open and the Dodgers an out away from the 1985 World Series---and they still don't know whether that one landed in Pasadena or in Casey Stengel's old back yard in Glendale---was that monstrous. Not even the punt Darryl Strawberry hit in Shea Stadium to lead off the bottom of the eighth in Game Seven, 1986 Series, to give the Mets a very badly-needed first insurance run (Jesse Orosco's shocking fake-bunt RBI single provided the other insurance later in the inning) was that monstrous.

Best line I ever saw about such a bomb: Roger Angell, about the Kingman shot: It occurred to me that the real impact of Kingman's blow was to speed Hunter's acceptance by his new teammates. There is nothing like a little public humiliation to make a three-million-dollar executive seem loveable.