ESPN College Sports

Driven to succeed, Tammy Williams is driving opponents to distraction this season.

Only a sophomore, Williams has made quick work of the labels we like to bestow on players. She's gone from unheralded freshman to pleasant surprise, right on through top newcomer and out the other side to underrated slugger and potential All-American.

One more label might be appropriate at this point.

With a .500 average and a .818 slugging percentage through Northwestern's first 20 games, Williams may just be the nation's best hitter.

It's not like she's piling up statistics against subpar competition. Although the Big Ten, which currently has as many top-10 teams as the Pac-10, is an increasingly competitive league, the toughest part of Northwestern's schedule comes before conference play begins. Consider the opponents Williams has faced this season that are either ranked or receiving votes in the polls: Arizona State, Arizona, UCLA, Oregon State (twice), Stanford (twice), Texas A&M, Fresno State and Cal State Fullerton.

That's half of the team's schedule against some of the best pitching college softball has to offer, and that's without the benefit of a single outdoor practice before the Wildcats touched down the night before their opener against Texas A&M at the Kajikawa Classic.

Early in that opening game against the Aggies, Williams got spiked on a close play at second base. She played on after the incident, first moving from shortstop to designated player before eventually leaving the game, and subsequently the complex that was hosting most of the tournament, to get her ankle checked out.

It turned out, despite Williams' inclination to keep playing, the opponent's spikes had opened a gash that required roughly 30 stitches to close.

So where was Williams when Northwestern's next game started little more than five hours later? Playing shortstop, of course, and picking up a single, two walks and a run scored against Fresno State ace Robin Mackin.

That's what Williams does; she plays softball. And nothing is going to stop her from doing what she's supposed to do on the field. That's the way Everett Williams taught his daughter to play the game.

"My dad definitely had the biggest influence on me," Williams said. "Growing up, because I was tiny, he would make me go out there and if I missed a ball, he would make me do another one. And any time I got frustrated, he would just make me do it every game. And I think that he really taught me how to play the game how it's supposed to be played, with fire and passion and to really want to be there every pitch."

It's a passion that's easy to spot as Williams crashes around the field, diving into bases, sprawling out for catches and generally ensuring that the team's laundry budget nearly matches the travel budget. And it's a passion that occasionally rubs opponents the wrong way, as it did when a short-circuited slide into home plate against Arizona sent both Williams and Arizona catcher Callista Balko tumbling.

It was Williams who took a tag in the face while sliding into third base against Arizona in last year's Women's College World Series, inspiring the purple bandages that players and fans alike wore on their noses during the next game. And perhaps it was that memory, as well as the heat of the moment in a budding rivalry, that led a couple of Arizona players to tell the Daily Wildcat newspaper that Williams crossed the line from playing hard to playing dirty after the collision with Balko this season.

But that's one label that won't stick. Williams plays the game as hard as she knows how, not to gain an unfair edge on an opponent, but because that's what her dad told her to do.

Everett Williams passed away in 2000. Cancer in his lungs eventually spread to his brain and killed him. Tammy was 13 years old.

Off the field these days, Williams is rarely without a smile. She seems to linger permanently on the edge of breaking out in laughter, her eyes seeking out the next source of amusement. But on the field, there is a seriousness in the way she goes about her business, slamming the bat off her back with an audible thud as she takes practice cuts or staring in stone-faced from shortstop.

"It's strictly softball," Williams said. "I try to just put everything else aside and really focus on our team and the opposing team that we're playing at that time."

It's a contrast that makes her undeniably compelling, but is it a mind-set that allows someone who seems so tangibly to enjoy life off the field to savor the intangible rewards of chasing perfection on the field?

"I think that there is a fine line, but I think many times, that the fun does come from [striving for perfection]," Williams said. "I think that you learn that even if I go 0-for-3 for a day, or our team's not doing so well, that there is still fun in softball. And we're just going to come and have fun every day and play our game."

So perhaps it's not surprising that Williams fell head over heels for the weight room at Northwestern, following the lead of teammate, mentor and friend Garland Cooper, the two-time reigning Big Ten Player of the Year, in maintaining a rigorous training regimen.

There are plaques in the athletic department's fitness center at Northwestern that bear the names of the athletes of both genders who best excel across a variety of strength and conditioning disciplines. The current record holder for female athletes is a former basketball player, but Williams has her eye on getting her name on top by the time she graduates.

"It would be great," Williams said, laughing at the idea much as she laughs at most things. "That's obviously a goal of mine. I really got into it last year, because I could tell how much it affected my game. Having that extra step on the ball at shortstop or hitting the ball farther. So I think that's definitely a goal of mine, just going in there and getting stronger and faster every day and taking advantage of that opportunity that's in front of me."

Williams has almost unlimited potential. But it's the link to the past, to her father's lessons, that pushes her to chase perfection in the present. Even if it's a chase with no end in sight.

"There is always room for improvement," Williams said. "I don't think anyone can ever be perfect; if you were, no one would ever pitch to you."

If you listen closely enough, that's the same thing pitchers are muttering to themselves as they wait for an outfielder to throw the ball back in after Williams reaches base again.

Graham Hays is a regular contributor to ESPN.com's softball coverage. E-mail him at Graham.Hays@espn3.com.