A Better Man Than Most

We, as Dodger fans, are all going through different levels of anger as we cope with the sign-stealing scandals of which the Dodgers were victims.  It is a travesty of justice that we lost that window of opportunity to see our team win the World Series after so many years of falling short.  Frankly, I’m pretty angry about it, but there isn’t much we can do except hope that this new core of young Dodgers is able to get them past this and on to a World Series Championship.

In 2013 I ordered the book, A Moment in Time, the Ralph Branca autobiography, and I read it from cover to cover.  It’s an amazing story told by a Dodger that was wronged in a cheating scandal, and he took the blame as a failure for decades without exposing the cheaters even though he knew he was a victim of their fraud.  If you think we as fans have it difficult dealing with the Astros and Red Sox sign-stealing scandals, imagine what Ralph Branca endured.  The parallels between what occurred in 1951 and 2017 are uncanny.  History repeated itself, with different types of technology, but essentially the same idea.

I met Ralph Branca very briefly in 1998 when I was on a work assignment teaching at the U.S. Customs Academy in South Coastal Georgia.  I had a day off, so I drove south several hundred miles to Vero Beach because I knew that the Dodger Adult Baseball Camp was going on.  I had never been to the historic site, so I was quite eager to see what it was like.  I sat in the Holman Stadium stands and watched a bunch of old guys having the time of their lives playing the grand old game while Carl Erskine and Ralph Branca interacted with the campers.

A few foul balls were hit into the stands, so I went to retrieve them.  I think Branca thought I was going to walk off with the balls because he quickly headed my way, but I tossed them back to him, and he pointed out where a few more balls were and asked if I’d be kind enough to fetch them too.  No problem, I obliged.  When I returned Ralph and  I struck up a conversation while he sat in the open-air dugout.  He was outgoing, friendly and kind.  I would guess we conversed for about 30 minutes.  He had no reason to talk to me, yet he made the effort to do so and as we departed and shook hands, he referenced my name and said it was a pleasure to meet me.

A few years later, I saw that the cheating scandal that the ’51 Giants were guilty of was exposed. I knew Ralph he had been through quite an ordeal, but I had no idea at the time that he knew that he had been cheated out of the pennant and that he had chosen to not expose the cheating Giants.    He kept the secret for almost 50 years.  This story needs to be re-told.   (Please note that any quotes referenced in this piece come from Branca’s book, published by Simon and Schuster, 2011 autobiography, A Moment in Time, by Ralph Branca and David Ritz)

This post is a repeat of a 2013 post that I wrote, my apologies if you have already seen it.

———————–

Imagine if you will that you were the victim of a colossal fraud.  It was something that happened to you in a public setting.  So public a setting that millions upon millions saw it.  To make matters worse, the world blamed you for what was perceived to be your mistake.  Your failure.  You are seen as a person that choked under pressure.  You are the poster boy for “goats.”  No matter how many successes you have in life, (and there are many), you are solely remembered for what everyone thinks was your screw up.

You shoulder the burden of your failure because you were unaware of the fraud that was perpetrated against you.  Years pass and the stigma of your failure hangs with you.  Your name is recognized by many, but not for your successes, but that one incident that everyone saw.  You come to realize that you will forever be remembered as a negative footnote in history and that when your obituary is written, that lowlight in your life will be the primary focus of nearly everyone.

And here’s the kicker.  You find out a few years later about the fraud.  You know that they cheated to wrong you.  You realize that the exposure of the hidden scandal will exonerate you and clear your name.  But you choose to remain silent.  You choose to bare the brunt of criticism for years because your pride and integrity will not speak out and make excuses.

That is the story of a real man.  One who swallowed his pride and took criticism as the biggest goat in baseball history because he knew the truth and that was all he needed to live with himself.  He knew what the real truth was.

Ralph Branca, in his 88th year on this earth, decided to finally open up and let the world know what was on his mind.  In a 2011 autobiography, A Moment in Time, he told his story.  As the hurler that served up Bobby Thomson’s “shot heard round the world” in the 1951 pennant-clinching playoff, Branca who was for over fifty years labeled as the despondent loser in that historic playoff loss was finally able to give the world his perspective, not only of that historic game at Coogan’s Bluff but of his entire life.

He had a self-professed photographic memory, which explains why he was the all-time winner on the NBC game show, Concentration (with 17 consecutive wins).  That memory proved valuable as he recounted his long and interesting life.

Branca was a good man.  A religious person that didn’t miss mass in years.  One of 17 children raised in Mt. Vernon, New York.  An honest person that learned to give an honest effort and not be judgmental of his fellow man at an early age in life.  The son of a first-generation Italian immigrant father and a Hungarian mother.  Branca’s home was open to friends of all religions, races and ethnic backgrounds.   “I cannot remember an incident of racial prejudice,” he says today.  “I was taught to love my neighbors, and because I knew no better, I did just that.”  With older brothers that taught him the ins and outs of football, basketball, and baseball.  Branca was a fine athlete and he was the largest Branca boy in stature, eventually sprouting to 6’3” and well over 200 lbs.  He naturally developed into a power armed right-handed pitcher with a blazing fastball.  After his sister reached out to the three New York teams regarding tryouts, the lone team that called him back was the Brooklyn Dodgers.

As a 17-year-old in 1944, Branca had his eyes set on joining the Army at the tail end of World War II, but an asthmatic condition and punctured eardrum made him ineligible for any of the branches of service.  Instead came a letter to him from Branch Rickey requesting that he report to the Dodgers Montague Street offices in Brooklyn and that he bring an adult guardian along with him to grant him permission to sign a contract.  Rickey cut to the chase and offered Ralph a $90/month contract to play with the Dodgers D league team in upstate Olean, New York.  Branca eagerly accepted the deal with his mother’s consent.

Ralph’s 1944 season as a 17-year-old was nothing really impressive.  He had a 5-5 record with a 4.63 ERA, but that offseason he physically grew.  Ralph arrived at Spring Training having added four inches in height and he estimates that his fastball velocity increased five or six MPH in speed, probably to the mid-’90s.  The major leagues were depleted of many stars due to the war effort.  In 1945 he was up with the big club as an18 year old.  He bounced between Triple-A Montreal and Brooklyn but he was around enough to start 15 games for the Dodgers going 5-6 with a 3.04 ERA over 109 innings.

Still a teenager.  Branca took a bus and two different subways to travel to Ebbets Field for games.  He continued to do so up until he was married following the 1951 season a full six years later.  With his increasing salary as the years passed, he bought his parents a larger home in Mt. Vernon and he continued residing there with them.  

Branca was a kid.  He was only a few months removed from being a fan.  He soaked in the special experience and enjoyed it from the word go.  He talked of how he’d jump on the subway on the way back home and kids would engage him in conversation on public transit almost all the way back to his home.  “They’d walk me to the subway and several would actually ride the train with me through Brooklyn, Manhattan and the Bronx.  They were young teenagers, 12, maybe 13 years old and of course, I was still a teenager myself.  They’d ask questions about the game.  How do you pitch to Stan Musial as opposed to Mel Ott?   How do you throw a slider? What’s it like to be on the same team as Dixie Walker?  I loved talking to those kids, I enjoyed their company.  It was only a few years before that I was their age, dreaming the same dreams dancing through their heads.  This was a time when players were approachable and actually moved and worked  among the fans.”   It’s hard to imagine a similar circumstance with players today.

He tells the story of Hilda Chester and her loud demeanor at games.  Branca claimed that he learned from veterans to ignore comments from fans, as it was taboo to acknowledge that they were heard and that they could affect the players in any way.  But Hilda was insistent with him one day.  “Ralph Branca, look at me when I’m talking to you!” She screamed at him incessantly.  He eventually relented and she gave him a note and instructed him to give it to his manager Leo Durocher.  “I walked over to the dugout and handed the note to Leo,” he said.  “He read it and made a pitching change.  The reliever bombed and we lost the game.  Back in the clubhouse, I heard Leo say, ‘From now on, any time I get a note from Rickey, I’m gonna tear it up.‘  ‘It didn’t come from Rickey,’  said Branca, ‘It came from Hilda.’  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he barked. ‘You didn’t ask.’”

As young as Branca was, he was immediately recognized for his leadership qualities.  You’d think that Pee Wee Reese would be the man that took the lead with regard to the Dodger players, but when he returned from the war, he approached the young Branca who was 20-21 years old and asked him to be the “team rep” they called it.  It wasn’t a position that carried a lot of weight in the pre-union days, but Branca took up causes on behalf of the players such as getting the Cubs to add a restroom adjacent to their dugout and representing the players in minor grievance issues.

This leadership role would follow Ralph throughout his career and later in life as he helped organize the Baseball Assistance Team (BAT) to aide retired players that were experiencing financial problems and were in need of medical/psychological assistance.  

What few seem to remember was the influence Branca had in assisting the acceptance of Jackie Robinson as he entered on to the scene.  Not only did he serve a leadership role and as an example in that aspect with the Dodgers in 1947, but it would coincide with his greatest season in the majors.

When Jackie Robinson emerged on the scene in 1947, it was Ralph Branca that argued with a handful of players who had ingrained racist sentiments that opposed his roster addition.  Yes, Leo Durocher challenged the whole team that dared submit a petition against the move and there was Pee Wee Reese who put his arm around his teammate before a crowd of racist hecklers in Cincinnati.  Each scenario played a pivotal role in Jackie’s acceptance with the team, but when death threats flowed into the Dodgers mail room claiming Jackie would be shot on the field on his first day in uniform, only one player made it a point to be by Jackie’s side when the players lined up and were introduced on opening day.  That was Ralph Branca.

A few days earlier, when it was announced that Jackie was on the opening day roster, Branca made it a point to be the first player to shake his hand.   Ralph felt he had to take a stand for the right and he took his team rep position seriously attempting to smooth over relationships from some of the players on the team with roots from the south.  Branca freely admits that it was Robinson’s play and integrity that cut down the barriers and gained him acceptance.  

All the while that Robinson was on his way to winning the first-ever Rookie of the Year award in ’47, Branca was having his best season ever.  He started the All-Star game and he finished 21-12 with a 2.67 ERA, (third-best in the league).  At age 21, he was the youngest pitcher to ever start Game 1 of the World Series.  It was a disappointing World Series for Ralph, as the Dodgers lost 4 games to 3, and he faltered in game one.  Burt Shotten failed to start him again after the game one loss.

It’s a decision that irritates him to this day.  He was the ace of the Dodger staff, a 21 game-winner, and after one bad outing against the Yanks, even though he was well-rested, the decision was made to not start him again in the series.  Ralph is convinced that the Dodger first World Series championship would have been in 1947 had he started another game in that series.

Seasons of 14-9 and 13-5 followed Branca’s 1947 season.  He was an all-star representative in each season, but arm problems plagued him due to overuse that occurred in his first years.  Branch Rickey believed that starting pitchers needed only two days rest and in Ralph’s second year in organized ball, he used him as a test case for his theory.  

When Branca was sent back to the minors in Montreal during the 1945 season, he started 11 games in less than a three week period.  What resulted was he threw 71 innings over a 21 day period.  The experiment most likely caused permanent damage to Ralph’s arm due to the overuse.  When Branca told Rickey that he needed more rest, the Mahatma’s response was “that’s what all pitchers say.”  Branca politely responded, “I don’t mean to be imprudent, Mr. Rickey, but those pitchers are right.”  

Now, a full six years later, after a 20 win season, three all-star appearances and numerous arm ailments, it was1951 and things were looking up for Ralph Branca.  He was pitching well and the ball club was way ahead in the pennant race.  His sore arm was feeling better during the year and he was engaged to Ann Mulvey, the daughter of one of the Dodger chief executives.

That ’51 Dodger team was loaded.  It had a starting staff of 20 game winners Preacher Roe and Don Newcombe.  Branca was the number three man on the staff and Clyde King and Carl Erskine started a number of games too.  Roy Campanella was the league MVP.  Jackie Robinson hit .338.  Gil Hodges hit 40 homers.  Duke Snider and Pee Wee had stellar years as well.   You had Carl Furillo with 24 outfield assists and Clem Labine posting a 2.20 ERA out of the bullpen.  That team should have been in the World Series.    They were 13 games ahead of the Giants on August 11th.  Chuck Dressen said the immortal phrase “the Giants is dead.”

And then the cheating happened.

Sal Yvars, a Giants reserve catcher on their ’51 ball club and boyhood friend of Branca was interviewed about the cheating tactics 50 years later when a Wall Street Journal article in 2001 by Joshua Prager exposed the entire fraud.  Yvars, who passed away in 2008, was interviewed with John Vorperian, Beyond the Game video segment in 2001 and he had this to say:

“You’re gonna hear the real story.  I’m going to give it to you from A to Z.  We were 13 1/2 games behind…Leo Durocher would try to beat you any way he could possibly do.  So we got a kid from the Chicago Cubs, Hank Schenz was his name.  A utility ballplayer and he goes to Leo and says ‘look, I was in the Navy and we had a telescope that could look 25 miles out to sea and pick a crystal out of that water.’  He says ‘why don’t you install this in Leo’s office, (which was 600 feet away), and you can get the signs and attach a buzzer to the bullpen and a buzzer to the dugout.’  

“So Leo Durocher, believe me John, he’s the biggest crook, thief, gambler, that ever existed… Anyway, they did it.  I said ‘I’ll be damned, they did it.’ They attached a telescope.  Herman Franks was taking the signs from the catcher.  After one inning he had the signs…we knew every pitch.  

“Bobby Thomson was in a slump.  The time up until he hit the home run (in the playoff game), he gained about 60 points (on his batting average).  He admits this himself….he says ‘I was taking the signs up until this time that I hit the home run, but, but, but‘ and he stutters a little bit,  ‘I could say yes, I could say no.‘  This is actually in print.  In the big papers in New York.  And he says, ‘I’d rather say no.‘  He should have said, ‘I know Ralph is a fastball pitcher and he has a little curve but to get me out he’s gonna throw his best pitch, I was looking for the fastball.‘  If he said that and stopped, that would have been fine.

(He continues, talking about the  famous home run) “So he took the first pitch, it was a fastball and he did nothing.  Right down the middle.  The next pitch it was a little higher, letter high…and he smacks it out of the ballpark. Now the thing is, we win, we get into the World Series.  We won the playoff 2 out of 3 against the Dodgers.  Now in the World Series, we didn’t use it because you had too many guys floating around in the clubhouse and all during the games…John, we had the signs, the guys used them, and there’s no way we should have won the pennant…We won 37 out of 43 and 16 in a row at home.”

So without going into the details of how they got there, I quote Ralph in his own words as he goes through the events on that fateful day, October 3, 1951.  Branca was called in to relieve Don Newcombe in the 9th.  The Dodgers led 4 to 2.  Two runners were on base, one out and Bobby Thomson was coming to the plate.  Dodger manager Charlie Dressen decided to remove a tiring Newcombe and bring in Branca.

“That walk from the Polo Grounds bullpen was the longest in the world, but my pace stayed steady.”

“I passed by Pafko, who said, ‘Go get ‘em Ralphie.’  I entered the infield and passed by Jackie, who said, ‘Let’s get ‘em, Ralph.’  I passed by Reese, who said, ‘No butterflies, Ralph. You’re gonna get ‘em.’  As Newk left the mound, I told him, ‘Don’t worry, big fella.  I’ll get ‘em for you.’”

“Dressen handed me the ball.  For a second I wondered if he was going to tell me to walk Bobby Thomson to get to Willie Mays,  I’d had good luck with Mays.  But all Charlie said was, ‘Get him out.’  That figured.  You don’t put the winning run on base.”

“Thomson represented the winning run at the plate.  I was facing Bobby Thomson, more determined than at any moment of his life, and I prepared to pitch.”

“I inhaled.  I exhaled.  I checked the runners, Lockman at second, Hartung at third.

I looked for a sign.  Fastball.”

“I delivered a fastball directly over the plate.  It couldn’t have been any more down the middle.  Thomson looked at it.  Strike one!”

“The Giants bench started screaming at Thomson for letting the pitch go by,  They rode him hard.  ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ I heard Leo screaming at Bobby.”

(Note: had the Giants not known that that first pitch was going to be a fastball, would they really have gone nuts after the first pitch?  It’s doubtful)

“I got away with one.  I couldn’t get away with another.  I inhaled.  I exhaled.  I checked the runners, Lockman at second, Hartung at thrid.  I looked for the sign. Fastball.”

“I threw it high and inside.  Thomson was waiting for it.  Thomson attacked it with an uppercut swing, connected and drove it to left field.”

“I turned and followed the ball’s trajectory.  I thought it was going to sink. It had to sink. 

‘Sink, sink, sink!’”

“I watched Andy Pafko running back to the wall…‘Sink, sink!’”

“But the ball stayed up and cleared the wall by about six inches, landing in the left-field seats…There was pandemonium.  There was hysteria.  There was Thomson rounding the bases.  There was Durocher jumping up and down from the third-base coach’s box like a crazy child.  There was confetti flying.”

“After the ball sailed into the seats, I’d inadvertently picked up the rosin bag and threw it down in disgust.  Head down, I headed for the centerfield clubhouse.  Jackie had the presence of mind to make sure Thomson touched every base.  He did.  We were defeated.  Undone.”

Earlier in the day, he had made a dinner commitment with his fiance Anne and Rube Walker and his wife for after the game.  He hated to go, he wanted to bury his head in the sand and disappear for a long while.  Having to show up in public after the worst moment in his life was an unbearable thought, but he went.  He kept his commitment.  He received a standing ovation at the restaurant when he walked in.  That was Brooklyn.

Vin Scully, who wasn’t calling that particular inning of the game remembered that Branca’s fiance, Anne Mulvey was seated right near the press box where he was situated.  He knew her well as the entire Dodger family was extremely close.  His immediate thoughts went to her as the shock of the homer occurred.    Sixty years later he remembered that moment as it was yesterday.  “I looked down and saw her.  I can still see her now.  With great dignity, she slowly opened her purse, reached in, and took out a white handkerchief.  Then she closed the purse and placed it on her lap.  She opened the handkerchief and placed it over her face for a very few seconds.  Those few seconds said everything.”

Branca was inconsolable.  Once in the clubhouse, he buried his face on the floor.  His teammates left him alone.  Jackie eventually approached him and said, “Ralph, if it weren’t for you, we would have never made it this far.”  Seeking out his intimate friend and parish priest, Ralph was told that “God chose you because He knew you’d be strong enough to bear this cross.”  He had to go on.  Life would have to go on.  He had to put on the good face.

Earlier in the day, he had made a dinner commitment with his fiance Anne and Rube Walker and his wife for after the game.  He hated to go, he wanted to bury his head in the sand and disappear for a long while.  Having to show up in public after the worst moment in his life was an unbearable thought, but he went.  He kept his commitment.  He received a standing ovation at the restaurant when he walked in.  That was Brooklyn.

This story would be even more amazing if it could be said that Branca came back strong and that his career recovered, but such was not the case.   He was never a successful pitcher in the big leagues again.  At the time of the Thomson homer, Ralph was 25 years old.   A freak accident in which he slipped on a coke bottle messed up his back during spring training in 1952.  By July, adjustments in his mechanics to compensate for the hurt back had injured his arm.  His season was limited to 61 innings.   Then seven games into the following season, Branch Rickey traded Ralph to the Tigers.

He was devastated.  The ’53 team may have been the best Brooklyn club ever, but Branca’s injuries were just too much.  He faltered in Detroit and by 1954, the Tigers released him.  He made a brief comeback attempt after Casey Stengel agreed to try him out and by September, he was a Yankee, where he pitched well during his one month stint with the club, but as dumb luck would have it, that happened to be the lone season that the Indians beat out the Yanks for the A.L. pennant.  It was during the previous year though, when Branca’s life took a turn due to a simple conversation with a teammate, affecting him the rest of his life. 

When the ever personable Branca languished in Detroit on a second division team that ended up 40 games out of first place, he struck up a very strong friendship with teammate Ted Gray.  Gray was his roommate and confidant while he played in the Motor City.  It was during one of those long road trips that Gray told him that he had received second-hand news from a former Giants player (Earl Rapp) that indicated that the Giants had stolen the pennant in ’51 by using a sophisticated method of sign stealing.  It involved using a high-powered telescope and electronic buzzer system.

Ralph was floored.  He asked a number of questions to Gray that only someone on the inside could answer.  It was also reported that the players on the Giants bench would say keywords such as  “sock it!” for a fastball, “be ready!” for curve and “watch it!” for change up.  Another fail-safe measure was backup catcher Sal Yvars in the bullpen that would provide visual signs (such as tossing a ball up and down,  or folding his arms while standing in the far off bullpen in order to indicate what pitch was coming).  Electronic signals, a telescope, verbal commands, visual signals.  There were so many mechanisms in place.  No wonder the Giant dugout went nuts when Thomson took a fastball right down the heart of the plate on the first pitch.

“I couldn’t sleep at night,” wrote Branca.  I couldn’t sleep the next night.  I kept tossing and turning.  After the initial shock, my first reaction was rage.  I was infuriated.”  So he called his boyhood pal, former Giants backup catcher Sal Yvars (quoted above).  Sal was now a Cardinal and Ralph knew he felt no loyalty to Durocher.

“Say it isn’t so, Sal,” said Branca.  “Who told you,” he responded.

“Earl Rapp told Ted Gray and Ted told me.”

After a pause, Yvars said, “Earl should have kept his friggin’ mouth shut.”  

“So it’s true.”

“Sure it’s true.”

“And you didn’t feel bad about it, Sal?”

“I felt bad for you, Ralph, when Bobby hit that homer.  You got a bad rap–that’s for sure.”

“But none of you objected to Leo?”

“Come on, Ralph/ There was no arguing with Leo.  Leo loved the whole thing–especially when it turned our season around.  But Leo also got worried we’d get found out.  So, if we were ahead by five or six runs, he’d tell Al Dark or Eddie Stanky to swing and miss real bad on a curve–even if they knew the curve was coming.  Then if we were ahead by seven or eight, we’d stop stealing them altogether.  But if it was a close game, you better believe we’d be in on every pitch.”

“And the big game in ’51.  The October 3 game, Sal.  You were stealing signs that game?”

“Are you kidding?  Why wouldn’t we be stealing signs in the biggest game of the year?… Look, Ralph, you’re a good guy and I wish it hadn’t been you who threw that pitch…Hope you don’t hold it against me, Ralph, but you gotta understand–I was just the messenger.  Besides, you know Leo.  If he thought it meant winning a game, he’d murder his mother.”

Branca came to find out from Yvars that the sign-stealing with the telescope was expanded to when they were on the road too.  It was more difficult to pull off, and they obviously didn’t have a buzzer system, but there would be signs relayed from the outfield telescope holder to the bullpen, then relayed by signs and verbal mechanisms in the dugout.  The whole thing was very sophisticated.

What would have happened had Branca reported the incident?  That’s tough to say.  A possible investigation, or maybe the commissioner’s office turning a blind eye to it and stating it was a case of sour grapes on Branca’s part.   It is now known that not only was the entire Giants team and coaching staff involved, but even Giants owner Horace Stoneham was in on it.  Electricians were used.  Cabling had to be run.  This was a job that required a lot of work and some skills.

Sanctions against the Giants?  Having a public disclosure that would have tarnished the game, in a similar vein as the Black Sox scandal.  Then there was Durocher, who already had been suspended for a year once.  He would probably face a lifetime banishment.  It’s important to remember that the Thomson home run was already known in the baseball world of probably the most famous homer ever hit.  How kindly would the baseball hierarchy have taken the news that their greatest moment was perpetrated through fraud?  It might destroy the sport.  Branca had to be looking at the big picture.  His complaints very likely would have fallen on deaf ears.

Ralph never even considered reporting the incident.  If someone else did, that would be their business.  But he wouldn’t do so.   His wife suggested he file a complaint with the commissioner’s office.  “I don’t want to be seen as a sore loser,” he replied.  Weeks later he told his brother, John, in confidence.  His brother was livid.

“This rap you’ve been getting, Ralph, this idea of you being the goat is all based on b.s…you were the victim of a calculated scheme.  You need to get the truth out there…”  But he refused.  He let the truth sit until someone else reported it.  He waited for 50 years.  50 years!  Kept it inside.  Incredible.

In ’55 when the Dodgers faced the Yankees again in the World Series.  Dodger coach Billy Herman called on Branca to provide a detailed scouting report on the Yankees since he played with them the year before.  Branca obliged and it was very detailed down to the lowliest hitter on the bench.  The Brooklyn Dodgers won their first and only World Series.  It was nice to know that Ralph played a small part in that, even if he didn’t play.  He sat in the stands and watched his friends celebrate.  It was bittersweet.

The next year, after a long lay-off, his arm felt a lot better.  He would come down to Ebbets Field and pitch batting practice for the club.  Buzzie Bavasi signed him to a September contract and he pitched twice.  Those were his final major league appearances, against the Giants.  He took the trip to Japan with the club after the series and proudly wore the Dodger uniform one last time, but his arm was killing him.  In Spring Training 1957, Ralph retired from the game for good.  He was happy that it was as a Dodger.

What followed was a very successful career in insurance sales.  Working in an office above Grand Central Station in New York City, Branca became a skilled salesman. It helped that he had a known baseball name and that fact would often give him an opening to a sales pitch.  Even if the potential buyer mentioned the Thomson homer, it didn’t matter.  Ralph had a connection and the ability to close a sale.

He raised his family with Ann and remained in New York.  Able to survive in the business world and become highly knowledgable in the insurance industry, the Brancas lived a comfortable life and also remained connected with baseball.  He participated in Mets activities and had some TV opportunities with the new club.  Gil Hodges and the Brooklyn connections kept him engaged in baseball.  The controversy of the Thomson homer lingered though.

In 1963 Howard Cosell interviewed him and brought up the possible cheating scandal that the Giants had engaged in during the ’51 pennant stretch.  He had done some research and received information about the telescope and buzzer system.  When interviewed, Ralph took the higher ground, saying he heard something about it, but wouldn’t talk.  As Cosell prodded further, Branca became more insistent.  “Howard, What part of I don’t want to talk about it don’t you understand?” he said.  Surprisingly, Cosell backed off.  When Durocher and Thomson were questioned about the cheating, they denied it occurred.  The press backed off too and the story went nowhere.  But it never completely went away and connections between Branca and Thomson would surface again and again.

Ralph was bitter about the whole thing.  When he’d run into Thomson, he became more distant with him.  It ached him that he was shaking the hand of a man that knew he had cheated him.  Bobby wasn’t too comfortable in those settings either.  At an Old Timer’s game at Shea Stadium, Branca faced Thomson and the crowd really lit into Ralph.  A lot of negative insults were shouted his way.  Durocher, who was present, wouldn’t look Branca in the eye and avoided him at all costs.  When Ralph’s granddaughter asked about it, Ann told her that people just don’t understand what the truth is.

It wasn’t until the 1980s that things between Ralph Branca and Bobby Thomson became less frigid.    A promoter asked Ralph to participate in a card show with Thomson.   Card shows were a new phenomenon and they were great money-making opportunities for ex-ball players.  Branca agreed to sign a bunch of pictures for an hour with Bobby for $1,000.   “Maybe it’s time to let bygones be bygones,” he thought.  He attended and the two men sat at a table together and sincerely talked for the first time at length.   The event was a tremendous success and fans loved it.   Before long, the two former rivals were friends.  They got to know each other’s families.  They joked.  They laughed.  They talked about everything almost, everything except the cheating scandal.

Branca negotiated their signing deals at Thomson’s behest as he was an extremely skilled negotiator.  They made hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years.  It was about twenty years later when the Prager WSJ article surfaced in 2001, they finally talked about it the topic that had nagged Ralph for 48 years.

“I think, Ralph, that you must feel exonerated,” said Thomson.

“I don’t feel exonerated, but my tongue is definitely loosened, “ he replied.

It was in that same year in 2001. The 50^th anniversary of the event that the San Francisco Giants called him and asked if he would agree to be present to commemorate the ½ century anniversary of the homer.  Branca politely declined the invitation, essentially letting them know they could take a hike.  In an interview with Larry King a few years later, Ralph didn’t back down stating that he blamed much of the episode on Giant owner Howard Stoneham, who gave the ok for electricians to install the buzzer system at the Polo Grounds.  In no way was he comfortable letting the current Giants organization commemorate their successful cheating scheme.

It’s accurate to say that Branca and Thomson’s relationship soured a little bit after the exposure of the cheating was made public.  Branca talked about how he had been robbed.  Thomson avoided the topic as much as he could and never publicly admitted that he knew the pitches Branca would throw.  There was a slight rift between the two because Ralph wasn’t about to back down.  He knew Thomson wasn’t being forthright and now he could finally speak out.  Eventually, things calmed again as the years passed and they resumed their friendship.  When Thomson died in 2010, they were back on good terms again.   Looking at the whole situation from Bobby Thomson’s angle, it is understandable that he wouldn’t be pleased about talking about the incident as his achievement was certainly diminished.  There is no doubt though, even if he knew the pitch was coming, he still had to hit it.  But Branca pointed out the indelible truth, “but it sure made it easier.”

****************************************************

One last story about Ralph Branca.

We all are aware of the movie “42” that chronicled the rookie year of Jackie Robinson’s career.  Branca was featured quite prominently in the motion picture.  They accurately portrayed the scene where Jackie’s successfully chased down the pop up near the dugout at full speed and was caught by Branca as he came barreling hard into the Dodger dugout. Saving him from potential injury.  It was a gesture that Jackie appreciated, as it was early in the year and there was still some tension with teammates.  Branca joked to Jackie that he was one of the few people on earth who could ever successfully tackled Robinson, referring to his days as a half back with UCLA.

In 1972, after Gil Hodges died suddenly of a heart attack during Spring Training while he was the manager of the Mets.  It was a shock to many and several of Gil’s old teammates attended the ceremony.  When Ralph drove to Brooklyn to attend the wake, he noticed as he approached the church that Jackie Robinson was driving in the lane next to him.  Ralph honked, but Jackie was focused on the road and took no notice of him.  He found out why when they both pulled into the parking lot.  Jackie’s diabetes had really affected his eyesight and it took total concentration for him to drive as he focused on the road.  He was really struggling as he got out of the car, having difficulty steadying himself as he walked, bracing himself against his parked vehicle.  Ralph approached and they embraced, and Ralph latched on to Jackie’s arm.  He was having trouble walking on the uneven sidewalk.

“It’s diabetes, Ralph, it’s affecting my vision.”  They entered the grounds of the church and Jackie stumbled on the uneven pavement, but Ralph was able to hold his arm tight and catch him before he fell.

“Just like ’47, Ralph,” he said, “When you tackled me before I crashed into the dugout.”

He had remembered that incident like it was yesterday.  Six months later, Ralph was a pallbearer at Jackie’s funeral.

Ralph Branca passed away at the age of 90 on November 23, 2016, the last surviving sibling of the Branca family.   Not surprisingly, the headline of his obituary in the New York Times unjustly mentioned the homer: “Ralph Branca, Who Gave Up ‘Shot Heard Round the World,” Dies at 90, ” it read.  “Sad, he deserved better than that.”

(Larry King interview from 2010)

https://youtu.be/9SLr8YP1uGg