Born in San Diego in 1918 and named after Theodore Roosevelt, this legendary hitter reverse-engineered the physical act of hitting decades before sports analytics existed, opting for a lighter bat and an upward swing to maximize energy transfer. In 1941 he refused to sit on a .39955 average, played a season-ending doubleheader, and finished at .406, a mark no major leaguer has reached since.

His story spans two wars as a combat fighter pilot, a hidden Mexican heritage, a fierce feud with the press and fans, secret pediatric cancer fundraising through the Jimmy Fund, and a surreal ending in which his remains were placed in cryonic suspension against his original will.

• Hit 521 home runs despite losing nearly five prime seasons to World War II and the Korean War
• Flew 39 combat missions in Korea, once crash-landing a burning plane, serving as a wingman to John Glenn
• Deliberately obscured his Mexican heritage to avoid prejudice that could have blocked his path to the majors
• Refused to alter his swing against extreme defensive shifts, trusting his own biomechanics
• His will called for cremation and ashes at sea, but a handwritten family pact led to cryonic suspension