In the summer of 2006, as part of a “Meet the Legends” event at the Ballpark at Harbor Yard, Bobby Thomson and Ralph Branca came to Bridgeport. Since an October day in 1951, the two men had been forever linked through baseball. One was a hero, one wasn’t. But over that time, they became good friends.
Thomson passed away Monday at the age of 86. This is the column I wrote for the Connecticut Post the day before the two men came to town. Thought you might like to read it again.
BRIDGEPORT – If a picture is worth a thousand words, then there is one of Ralph Branca that must be worth a million.
There’s Branca, sitting on the steps leading down into the Brooklyn Dodgers clubhouse at the Polo Grounds. His head is bowed down low, his hands clasped together between his legs. He looks like a man who just had his heart broken.
And, of course, he had.
He could hear the celebration echoing in his ears from the other clubhouse next door. How could he not? It was loud and boisterous. For those lucky New York Giants fans who listened to the game on WMCA-AM radio that day, they could probably still hear Russ Hodges’ immortal call echoing in their ears. “There’s a long drive, it’s going to be, I believe … The Giants Win The Pennant! The Giants Win The Pennant! The Giants Win The Pennant! The Giants Win The Pennant! Bobby Thomson hits into the lower deck of the left-field stands. The Giants win the pennant and they’re going crazy, they’re going crazy!”
Branca had thrown a fastball and Thomson had hit it for a home run, a game-winning three-run homer that gave the Giants a 5-4 win and the 1951 National League pennant over the Dodgers in a game that is still talked about today.
They called the homer “The Shot Heard ‘Round the World.” It turned Thomson into an instant hero. It turned Branca into an instant bum.
A long time has passed since that fateful day, a day that forever linked two men to one of the most exciting plays in baseball history. During that time, a friendship grew. It grew and prospered into something much more than just two people becoming friends. These two men now have an unbreakable bond.
To Giants fans, Thomson is still a hero, and (hopefully) to Dodgers fans, Branca is no longer a bum. The pain from that day has long since gone away and both have come to accept their roles in this magical moment – one pitch that turned into a lasting friendship, now in its 55th year.
“Let’s face it, when that happened, it was like we married each other,” Thomson said during an interview in 2004. “They still talk about it. They still show it on TV. Without that moment, we would be here.”
The one pitch forever changed Thomson’s and Branca ‘s destinies, both men decided to embrace it. They have been doing card and autograph sessions like this since 1984. They have remained friends even when a 2001 story broke on how the Giants had a spy in the scoreboard with binoculars that day, allegedly stealing the catcher’s signs and relaying them to the dugout. Thomson denied ever knowing what pitch was coming and that was good enough for Branca.
That season, the Giants won an amazing 37 of their last 44 games finish with a 96-58 record, tying the Dodgers for the NL title and forcing a three-game playoff to determine the pennant. The Giants won the first game 3-1, but the Dodgers rallied back, taking the second game 10-0. The Giants sent 23-game winner Sal Maglie to the mound in the deciding game, opposed by Brooklyn’s Don Newcombe. Heading into the ninth inning, the Dodgers enjoyed a 4-1 lead.
But Newcombe was exhausted. Alvin Dark singled, as did Don Mueller. One out later, Whitey Lockman doubled and it was 4-2 with Thomson coming to the plate.
Giants manager called for Branca . His first pitch to Thomson was a strike. His second pitch … well, you know what happened.
“Ralph made the pitch he wanted to make,” Thomson said in 2004. “I’ve always said I was lucky to hit the damn thing. I didn’t get a good look at it.”
Another picture taken that day shows the Giants mobbing Thomson at home plate while the Dodgers’ Jackie Robinson stands dejectedly behind second base, hands on his hips in disbelief. Branca also is in the photo, walking slowly out to center field and toward the clubhouses at the Polo Grounds.
For months afterwards, Branca shouldered the blame for the loss. But that blame slowly ebbed away. In the off-season, Thomson would meet Branca at various dinners and functions and the two men became friends.
“We just got to know one another,” Branca said in 2004. “We pretty much have the same outlook on life, we have the same outlook on family and we have the same outlook on being patriots.”
And now, they have the same outlook as being part of one of baseball’s greatest moments.
