Posted by Os Davis in baseball, books, video | 2 Comments
Bobby Thomson, of the Shot Heard Round the World, dies at 86
Bobby Thomson, that unwitting creator of a million zillion what-if stories both published and unpublished, that subject of prose and poetry, that metaphorical slayer of poor Ralph Branca, died today at his home in Savannah, Georgia. He was 86.
Thomson played Major League Baseball for 15 years mostly with the New York Giants, going for a .270 lifetime batting average, three All-Star bids and 263 home runs plus one Shot Heard Round The World.
In its mundane three-dimensional existence on the baseball field, Thomson’s famous shot was “merely” the culmination of 154 games of war in a baseball for National League supremacy among New York City boroughs: Brooklyn vs. Manhattan. In an extra playoff game – actually, the third extra game in a best-of-three series, actually, and don’t remind Bud Selig or we’ll have another round of MLB playoffs – Thomson’s walk-off homer against the Dodgers’ Ralph Branca gave the Giants the pennant. Or, as the man said:
The Shot (for it is such a piece of lore not even the full title is necessary) was a momentous event that caused the multiverse to shatter into a million zillion parallel universes running in tandem with our own – particularly with that other locus of baseball greatness involved; as the famous trivia question reminds, Willie Mays was the man on deck when Thomson was batting.
In a sport based on the eternal moment, Thomson’s Shot may be The Eternal Moment. Sure, there have been such moments where a single play held time suspended in that way only baseball can: Joe Carter’s walk-off homer for the Toronto Blue Jays to end the 1993 World Series; Bucky Dent’s dagger for the New York Yankees against the Boston Red Sox in 1978; Dave Roberts’ stolen base in the 9th of game four 26 years later to finally turn the tide on their blood rivals; Barry Bonds’ weak-ass throw Francisco Cabrera’s bloop single for Atlanta against the Pittsburgh Pirates in ’92.
But none of them – not even Carter’s shot, the only homer ever to close an MLB season – had that je ne sais quoi of Thomson’s historical impact. And not even Dent is so inextricably linked with his lightning strike: They’ll surely recall Dent’s “shocking blast” when his obit is printed, but note his seventh-inning strike goes without an official nickname (unless you count “Bucky Bleeping Dent’s Homer,” as they call it in New England). And who served it up? Not remembered quite as quickly as Branca, is it?
As written before, the moment became the subject of many a tale. BuckBokai’s two favorites involving Thomson are surely Don DeLillo’s Underworld
Below runs a tiny portion of DeLillo’s amazing 816-page work with the verrrrrrrrrry interesting cover (published in 1997); all rights to him, etc. Do read this one if you haven’t already – or at least check out the 49-page introduction entitled “The Triumph of Death,” which was once published separately as the novella “Pafko at the Wall.”
He says, “The Giants win the pennant.”
Four times. Branca turns and picks up the rosin bag and throws it down, heading toward the clubhouse now, his shoulders aligned at a slant – he begins the long dead trudge. Paper falling everywhere. Russ knows he ought to settle down and let the mike pick up the sound of the swelling bedlam around him. But he can’t stop shouting, there’s nothing left of him but shout.
He says, “Bobby Thomson hits into the lower deck of the left-field stands.”
He says, “The Giants win the pennant and they’re going crazy.”
He says, “They’re going crazy.”
Then he raises a pure shout, wordless, a holler from the old days – it is fiddlin’ time, it is mountain music on WCKY at five-thirty in the morning. The thing comes jumping right out of him, a jubilation, it might be *heyyy-ho* or it might be oh-boyyy* shouted backwards or it might be something else entirely – hard to tell when they don’t use words. And Thomson’s teammates gathering at home plate and Thomson circling the bases in gamesome leaps, buckjumping – he is forever Bobby now, a romping boy lost to time, and his breath comes so fast he doesn’t know if he can handle all the air that’s pouring in…
•••••
Here’s Mr. Welsh, truly one of the greatest living (and productive) writers in the English language today, from the very dark but profound Crime:
•••••
– You like these cards, eh. Do ye collect them?
– Uh-uh. I jus keep these ones. They were my daddy’s. She regards him through the shield of her hair, waiting to see his reaction. – They ain’t worth nothin but he did have some valuable ones. Do y’all like baseball?
– Not really. To be honest, I’m not mad keen on American sports. I mean, baseball’s just rounders, a bairn’s game, he scoffs, before realising her age. – I mean tae say, there was never a Scotsman who played baseball!
– Oh yeah? Tianna challenges, handing him a card.
BOBBY THOMSON
(b: October 23, 1923, Glasgow, Scotland)
264 home runs in 14 seasons. Famous for the winning “shot heard around the world,” which won the National League pennant for the New York Giants against the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951.
The “Staten Island Scot” was the youngest in a family of six who immigrated to the USA in his childhood. He played for the Giants, Braves, Cubs, Red Sox and Orioles. Now retired, he lives in Savannah, Georgia.
Lennox steals glances as he holds it tight to the wheel. – That’s me telt!
Tianna laughs, talking the card back…
•••••
Rest in peace, Bobby (forever Bobby) Thomson. And rest assured we can still hear your Shot today.