Bill Hall is heaven in the batter's box, hell on the basepaths and a purgatory for pitchers. He's Nirvana on the infield, Enlightenment in the outfield, and Wisdom from the bench. He subscribes to the philosophy of hard work, follows the Religion of the long ball, and defines the metaphysics for the intangible ingredients of victory. He has a silver tongue, turns opposing pitchers green, and makes his teammates golden. He's the "primus inter parus" with that "je ne sais quois" who most often delivers the "coup de maitre". He reads pitchers like fairy tales, speaks the language of batting intimidation, and writes his own destiny.