THE WRITING ON (AND OFF) THE WALL JUST BEWARE OF FREEZER BURN.

Byline: TOM HOFFARTH

It's quite possible The Kid's kid just misunderstood. One of those classic family breakdowns in communication.

When Ted Williams was a cocky young baseball player coming up, he said it was his dream that people would see him on the street some day and say: ``There goes the greatest hitter who ever lived.''

Somehow, there's a creepy crawling suspicion that John Henry Williams, the troubled offspring and only son produced by Teddy Ballgame, thinks his pop can be, in fact, the greatest hitter who lived forever.

That image we all have of the Splendid Splinter's sweet swing might be frozen in time. But in time, so too might he be frozen in liquid nitrogen.

Cryonics, that dastardly branch of science which considers preservation after death to be as simple as wrapping people up in Reynolds Wrap and putting them in an ice chest until a cure is found, could be the method by which Williams' DNA someday shows up on eBay.com.

The Alcor Life Extension Foundation in Arizona, where Williams' body supposedly has been secretly shipped, states on its Web site that its state-of-the-art cryotransport opportunities offer ``specialized services today as an exciting and progressive alternative for you and your loved ones for tomorrow.''

Doesn't that just melt your heart?

John Henry's perpetual brain freeze has been well documented, so this idea that he has air mailed No. 9 out to a happily-ever-after retirement home comes as no surprise.

He took over his dad's business interests about 10 years ago when another meat head was arrested for bilking the legend out of $3 million. Since then, nothing John Henry has done makes much sense.

He's accused of signing his dad's name on bats for sale to collectors. He's responsible for putting a tacky cap for a since-folded dot-com Web site on his dad's head instead of a Boston Red Sox hat during the touching 1999 All-Star Game ceremony at Fenway.

Lately, JH used his father's Hall of Fame name to convince the Red Sox into reluctantly giving him a roster spot on a rookie-league team so that, at the ripe old age of 33, he could see if any talent genetically was transferred.

He's 0 for 6 and on the DL with a rib injury because he crashed into a fence chasing a foul ball.

Obviously, this idea of possibly cloning for dollars is the next logical step of self preservation.

How can anyone stop this ``Vanill Sky'' insanity? Isn't there a ``best-interest-oaseball'' clause to be invoked? How soon is Ted Williams part of the public domain?

So as we try to figure out who's next in line to have the title of ``the greatest living ballplayer'' - Willie Mays? Hank Aaron? Buddy Biancalana? - the debate must be momentarily suspended.

Ted's Excellent Adventure might just have a frost-bitten sequel. ...

--A U.S. vs. the World format, which really does work for the NHL All-Star Game, might have to be the next step for baseball's summer not-so-classic. ...

--Something we didn't need to know: Vin Scully, during Sunday's Dodgers-Cardinals telecast, said that on a sweltering day like it was in St. Louis, one of the questions he's always asked is whether the broadcast booth is air conditioned.

``It isn't,'' Scully said. ``And after the game, I'll get out of this (suit and tie) and slip back into my Speedo.'' ...

--Baron Davis will end up with the Clippers. Some way. Somehow. By some act of The Donald. ...

--Lance Armstrong, leading the Tour de France again. That's just nuts.