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6-4-3

By Ronald Brunsky

There never was any doubt in their minds — someday Billy and his older brother Sam would make it to the major leagues. This was the mid 1940’s, mind you, and hardly a kid in America didn’t have the same dream.

The Hedge brothers had started playing catch while still in diapers, and were practicing double plays before first grade. Sam was the shortstop and Billy played second base. It started that way, and believe me, it ended that way too.

Sam was always better than Billy. From little league right on through high school, it was always Sam who got the recognition and attention. The coaches continually praised him. His complete dominance of his peers made for constant speculation of a future major league career.

So, did being the unnoticed younger brother of an up and coming star cause any jealousy? No way, Billy idolized Sam. They were inseparable on and off the field. No one wanted Sam to make it to the majors more than Billy. Yet, Sam’s success only fueled Billy’s desire to become a better ballplayer.

Year after year, through dogged determination he would wind up playing beside his brother, and gradually people would not talk about Sam without mentioning Billy in the same breath.

Although, Sam was a great natural hitter with power, Billy had to work hard to become a solid contact hitter. Despite his average speed, his feistiness and savvy would often turn a single into an extra base hit, and once on, he was always a threat to steal.

Billy was the unselfish type of player, who knew how to do the little things a manager loved. At the plate, he could lay down a sacrifice bunt even with a two strike count, or hit to the right side to advance a runner; while in the field, he would line up the outfielder for the correct cut-off throw or back up a play to keep an opposing player from taking that extra base.

Despite all these assets, what the coaches liked best was his ability to execute the double play. Years of playing side by side, had given the brothers and uncanny sense of knowing exactly where the other one was, in any situation. This allowed them to throw the ball that split second sooner and turn a plain force out into a double play — often going Sam to Billy to first or in official scorer’s language 6-4-3.

Make no mistake about it; though Billy had turned himself into a darn good ballplayer, Sam was still the star. Every year, he would lead the league in batting and home runs, while dominating the defense with his range and strong arm.

Time and time again, he would go into the hole to make a back handed stop, and from short left field have enough on his throw to nail the runner at first, or make a diving stop behind second base, and while stretched out make the soft flip to his brother who would either relay to first or start a double play.

It was almost a sure thing, that someday he would be a major leaguer. Oh, maybe he’d play a year or two in the minors, but certainly no more than that.

Sam’s high school career was winding down to the playoffs. His big bat and the brothers’ fielding prowess earned them an appearance in the state final. His years of hard work and hope were to be both rewarded and destroyed on that single day.

Several big league scouts were in attendance for the game, and they weren’t disappointed. The Hedge brothers led their team past the previous year’s champs 11-3. Sam belted two long home runs with Billy aboard each time, and defensively the brothers turned in three double plays.

The scouts were all over the Hedge family when the game was over. They not only wanted to sign Sam to play for a double A team that summer, but were also interested in Billy for the following year. They wanted to keep them together.

Mom and dad thought this sure called for a celebration, and decided to take the boys to a fancy restaurant. Sam who had just got his driver’s license was surprised when dad flipped him the keys.

“It’s your day son.”

They decided to go to a steak house that the scouts had recommended.

After a wonderful meal, they were headed back to their hotel, when disaster struck. It had started raining, and the roads were becoming slick. Dad insisted on driving, and Sam moved to the back seat behind his mother.

As the rain became heavier and their vision reduced, a truck came at them left of center. The truck was so far left that Mr. Hedge’s only option was to bail out on the left side of the road. The entire impact was felt on Sam’s side. He never had a chance. Mr. Hedge’s quick reflexes had saved everyone else from a sure head-on collision, but Sam was gone — in a split second, a human life with such potential was no more.

The tragedy took a tremendous toll on the family, especially Billy. It was a long time before he would even think about baseball, but when his senior season came around dad convinced him to play. He assured him, Sam would want him to.

Billy had a great year and the scouts were still interested — signing him to a minor league contract right after graduation.

He had several good seasons before the majors gave him a call. They were a little hesitant because of his lack of power and speed, but his all around hustle finally won them over.

Billy lasted three seasons in the big time, before an injury ended his career. The final one made everything worthwhile.

Always great defensively, he had two so-so years at the plate. He finally put it all together that last year. Hitting over .300 and scoring 101 runs as he helped his team make a season ending pennant run that forced a playoff.

On that early October day Billy’s team held on to a one run lead going into the bottom of the ninth. The home team quickly filled the bases, and with one out their clean up man made his way to the plate.

Billy saw his manager signal to the bullpen. Their ace reliever was on his way in. He took his required warm ups, and the infield was brought into double play depth. Billy knew this hitter would see nothing but hard sinking sliders, as they would try to get the twin killing.

“Ball one,” the umpire indicated.

The batter then fouled off the next two offerings and after a couple low and away the count was full.

The pitcher stepped off the rubber and picked up the resin bag. He threw it down and reset himself, checked the runners and went into a full windup. Billy took a glance at the shortstop, for a split second he swore it was Sam standing there, and then the pitch was on its way. A hard sinker right at the knees was timed perfectly by the hitter, rifling a ground ball past the pitcher.

As the ball headed towards center field, Billy instinctively ran to second. This situation had occurred so many times with Sam, and he always made the play, but Sam wasn’t there.

The shortstop dove. His outstretched glove came up short, as the ball bounced past. Two runs would score easily, but suddenly the ball was coming back to Billy — that same soft toss Sam had flipped to him from a mid-air position, so many times before. Billy grabbed the ball for the force and relayed it to first nailing the runner by a step — DOUBLE PLAY!! They were out of the inning. They had won the pennant.

Sports writers were calling it the miracle bounce. The field was examined to find the rock that must have caused the weird ricochet, but nothing was found.

Although, it was officially scored a 4-3 double play, Billy knew better. In his mind there was no doubt — no doubt at all, that the pennant winning game ended, with a 6-4-3 double play started by his big brother Sam.