Almost fifty years ago, on October 3, 1951, in the third game of a three-game playoff against the Brooklyn Dodgers, New York Giant outfielder Robert Brown "Bobby" Thomson blasted the dramatic "shot heard 'round the world" when he homered off right-hander Ralph Branca. After all these years, Thomson's one-out, three-run clout remains among the most famous home runs in baseball history.

     "The Giants win the pen-nant, the Giants win the pen-nant, the Giants win the pen-nant," repeated an ecstatic Russ Hodges, the Giants' broadcaster, to a radio audience numbering millions, as Thomson circled the bases and trotted into baseball immortality.

     On the mound, Ralph Branca, after watching the drive clear the nearly 17-foot high wall above the 315-foot marker, stood stunned. Dodger left fielder Andy Pafko, near the wall, looked up in disbelief. Giant fans everywhere were thrilled, while Dodger fans were, like the players, shocked.

     The World Series began a day later with the Giants taking on the crosstown Yankees. Lacking the fierce rivalry they felt against the Dodgers, the National League pennant winners could not generate quite enough pitching, hitting, and heroics. Thomson, whom Giant fans expected to produce another miracle, batted .238 with one double, no home runs, two RBI, and five walks.

     The powerhouse Yankees won their third straight fall classic. Fueled by the stellar hurling of Eddie Lopat, Vic Raschi, and Allie Reynolds, and the clutch hitting of later Hall of Famers Phil Rizzuto, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, and Johnny Mize, the Yankees, after being down two games to one, won three straight and broke the hearts of the Giant legions.

     But Thomson, who hit .293 with 32 home runs and 101 RBI in 1951, produced several more good seasons. In the end, he batted a solid .270 lifetime with 264 home runs and 1,026 RBI. While his total circuit clouts no longer rank in the top 100 all-time, Bobby was a major run-producing clutch hitter during the postwar decade when only a handful of players in each league contributed more than 30 homers and 100 RBI per season.

     Born on October 25, 1923, in Glasgow, Scotland, Bobby came to America with his family at the age of three. A quiet, reserved, athletic youth with brown hair and brown eyes, he grew up and attended school on Staten Island, New York. Later, sportswriters often dubbed him the "Staten Island Scot."

     A standout athlete in high school and on city sandlots, Thomson signed with the Giants for $100 a month the day after he graduated from high school in June 1942. Sent to first-place Bristol in the class D Appalachian League, Bobby, a third baseman, played five games and hit .250.

     Deciding that their recruit was not getting enough playing time in Bristol, the Giants' front office moved him to Rocky Mount of the Bi-State League, another class D loop. For Rocky Mount, Bobby played 29 games at the "hot corner." At the plate he averaged .241 with three home runs and 18 RBI.

     But service in World War II interrupted the baseball careers of hundreds of minor and major league ballplayers in the early 1940s.

     "I went into the Air Corps from 1943 through 1945," Bobby explained in a 1996 interview. "There are no war stories. I ended up a bombardier, but I never got overseas. And it wasn't because I was playing baseball either. It was just a series of things that went on."

     Thomson won his Air Force wings at Victorville, California, although he was stationed at several bases. Tall and strong at 6'2" and 190, he was ready to pursue his baseball dream after he was mustered out in the fall of 1945.

     In February 1946 the Giants sent their returning servicemen to Jacksonville, Florida, the spring training base for their International League team, Jersey City. Thomson's play impressed the league club, and he was sent to Jersey City. That summer he hit with power. Defensively, he split time between third base and the outfield, a new experience. In 151 games he batted .280, including 12 doubles, seven triples, 26 homers, and 92 RBI.

     "The Giants brought me up at the end of 1946, and I hit two homers. Mel Ott was the manager, and he didn't play me against the pennant contenders. The Cardinals were fighting for the pennant. Ott didn't feel it was fair to the Cardinals to put a young kid like me out there, so he spotted me in games."

     The Giants, finishing last in the NL with a 61-93 record, had Bill Rigney, a .236 hitter, at third base. Thomson batted .315 in 18 games, contributing four doubles, a triple, and nine RBI. That auspicious start put the right-handed slugger in the Big Show to stay.

     Thomson became a regular in 1947. Improving under Mel Ott's leadership, the Giants climbed to fourth place with an 81-73 record. Thomson, who could run hard, throw well, and hit with power as well as in the clutch, produced seven first-rate seasons. Consider his numbers from 1947 through 1953:

     During those years Bobby averaged .279 with 25 home runs and 94 RBI per season. But from 1949, when he batted a career-best .309, through 1953, he performed even better. The slugger hit 25 or more homers each year, and he drove home over 100 runs in four of five seasons.

     Thomson takes a modest view of his performance:

     "You might say I was an 'in-and-out performer.' I wasn't very consistent. I had a terrible second year. I probably had my best year in the third year, 1949. In 1950 I seemed to slack off again until the end of the season, and then I came on strong. And we had the big 1951 season. Even in the '51 season, I started off very poorly."

     Defensively, he began learning to play second base in 1947.

     "I was a raw rookie in Arizona during spring training in 1947, but I could do three things. I could run. I had a good arm. And I could hit with power. Back then, Cleveland trained in Tucson, and the Giants trained in Phoenix. Then we'd break camp in early April, and we would get on a private train and travel back East with the Indians, barnstorming in all these little towns. One year we'd end up in Cleveland, and the next year we'd end up in New York, and we'd play a final weekend series.

     "One week we were heading to New York. A week before we got there, Mel Ott wasn't satisfied with Buddy Blattner playing second base. We were sitting on the side of the railroad tracks, and we were waiting for the train to get ready to take off.

     "We'd played an afternoon ball game, and Buddy Blattner didn't have a very good day. Mel Ott came up to me, and he said, 'Bobby, how would you like to try second?'

     "At that time I was going out for third base. I was fighting Sid Gordon and 'Lucky Jack' Lohrke. Mel Ott played us every third day to give us an equal chance.

     "When he asked if I would like to try second base, I thought, 'Hey, get me in the lineup.'"

     Bobby began working out at second, but he had difficulty adjusting to the new position. Less than a month into the season, Ott asked him to make another switch.

     Thomson recalled, "The first double play opportunity came in front of a full house. Geez, I think we were playing the Dodgers. Somebody hit a ball to the shortstop, and I'm busy playing right field. I can still remember me racing to second base, trying to beat the runner. So I flubbed up my first opportunity by a mile to make a double play.

     "It's funny. The days went on, and I played second base for about two weeks. It was early in the season, and I was starting to get the feel of the thing. I was beginning to realize that if you're going to make a double play, you can't play right field at the same time. I was getting the feel of it, and I was hitting the ball.

     "But we had young guys in the outfield. We had Lloyd Gearhart and Joe Lafata. We had a lot of young new guys that year. It seems like it was very windy at first, and these guys just weren't catching the ball out there.

     "Mel Ott came to me and asked me if I would play center field, and that was the end of second base. I think I could have made a good second baseman, even though I was unusually tall [6'2"] for the position. But that was the end of second base for me.

     "Whitey Lockman was a young kid who came up in 1948, and he was put in center field, and I was moved to left.

     "After a while, I felt center field was the ultimate place to play in the outfield. That was the guy that could do everything.

     "So I went to Mel Ott, and said, 'Why can't I play center field? I can run as well as Lockman.'

     "Mel Ott didn't realize I felt that way. By 1949 I was the regular in center, and Lockman played left. I played center until Willie Mays showed up in 1951."

     From 1947 through 1950, the Giants finished fourth, fifth, fifth, third, and, most famously, first in 1951. New York's great rival, the Dodgers, won the pennant in 1947. Then Brooklyn finished third in 1948, won another pennant in 1949, got nosed out by the Phillie "Whiz Kids" in 1950, and lost to the Giants in the 1951 playoff.

     Thomson commented, "The Dodgers had a great team, top to bottom, the whole decade [1947-1956]. The only position they were in-and-out was left field."

     On June 15, 1951, Brooklyn tried to shore up left field by trading four players (none were regulars) to the Cubs for Andy Pafko and three others. Unfortunately, Pafko injured his left knee, suffering a hematoma, in his second game. As a result, his defense and his running were hampered that summer.

     While the Dodgers slid into a late-season losing streak, Pafko, playing 84 games, batted .249 with 18 home runs and 58 RBI. Further, he slugged eight of those homers in September, and he hit two more in the playoff against the Giants.

     Many baseball fans know that the Giants won the pennant after trailing the Dodgers by 13½ games on August 11. Beginning the next day, New York won 16 straight games and 37 of the club's last 44 to tie Brooklyn on the last day of the regular season, thus forcing the three-game playoff.

     Asked about the rivalry, Bobby replied, "It was a pretty fierce rivalry. I'm just speaking for myself, but I think it was general through the clubs. We didn't like them, and they didn't like us.

     "At Ebbets Field our locker rooms were right next to each other, and we had a common runway between the respective locker rooms and dugouts, so we had a chance to walk back and forth and pass each other.

     "I can remember one day when I was walking back to the locker room, and I passed Duke Snider, Gil Hodges, Roy Campanella, and I think 'Pee Wee' Reese was there. Hell, they never even looked at me, except Snider. I looked at Snider, and he looked at me, and all we did was half a nod, that was it. We had nothing to do with each other."

     In February 1954, Bobby was traded to the Milwaukee Braves. After fracturing an ankle in spring training, he finally joined the ball club in August for a game at Ebbets Field.

     "I'll never forget it. I came walking up out of the dugout at Ebbets Field, and the Dodgers were taking batting practice, and I couldn't believe my eyes. There were Braves standing around the batting cage talking to Dodgers, and I was shocked. The Giants didn't do that. That's the way we were brought up with Leo Durocher.

     "But there wasn't that same intense feeling of rivalry between the Braves and the Dodgers."

     What happened in the 1951 playoff?

     "I hit a homer in the first game. We played at Ebbets Field, and we were behind 1-0, and I hit a two-run homer. Monte Irvin hit a homer, and that made it 3-1. Home runs accounted for all three runs.

     "The Dodgers killed us, 10-0, in the second game. We had moved over to the Polo Grounds for the last two."

     Asked what it was like to hit on the Giants' home turf, Bobby said, "It was kind of crazy to hit in the Polo Grounds. It was short down the lines, but the fences went out very fast.

     "I wasn't a Polo Grounds-type hitter. Many a day I'd go 0-for-4, and I might have hit three 400-foot fly balls that were caught. But those would have been home runs at Ebbets Field, or Wrigley Field. You had to be a pull hitter at the Polo Grounds, but I hit mostly straight-away.

     "I'd get 3-4 cheap home runs every year. You know, little 'wood shots' down either line. They would be pop flies in any other park."

     Laughing, the former slugger added, "But, goodness me, they didn't count the number of long outs!"

     In the climactic last game, Brooklyn led in the bottom of the ninth, 4-1. Facing right-hander Don Newcombe, Alvin Dark led off with a single to right. Don Mueller followed with another single, Monte Irvin popped out, and Whitey Lockman doubled to left-center. Mueller ended up at third, but he injured his leg in the slide.

     With one out and two runners waiting, a packed house at the Polo Grounds witnessed Thomson make baseball history. He came to the plate against Ralph Branca, the right-handed relief pitcher summoned from the bullpen by Dodger skipper Chuck Dressen.

     "Ralph threw me a fastball inside. He needed it in another two inches, probably. It was a 'waste' pitch, because he threw the first pitch right down the middle, and I took it.

     "The guys told me later, when I took that first pitch right down the middle, they literally wanted to kill me!

     "Then Ralph tried to waste the second pitch, to set me up, you know, for a breaking ball on the third pitch. Maybe I could hit it 430 feet, but Duke Snider would be out there waiting for it.

     "But I was quick with my hands. I had been hitting quite well, and I got around on it."

     Thus, Thomson blasted one of baseball's most famous home runs, Branca suffered his most devastating loss, and Giant right-hander Larry Jansen picked up the victory.

     The Giants won the pennant! On the down side, they lost the World Series. Still, there is more to Thomson's story — and we will return to his "shot heard 'round the world."

     After solid seasons in 1952, when he hit .270 with a league-best 14 triples, 24 home runs, and 108 RBI, and in 1953, when he averaged .288 with 26 round-trippers and 106 RBI, Thomson was traded to the Milwaukee Braves on February 1, 1954. The Giants swapped Thomson and Sammy Calderone mainly to get southpaw Johnny Antonelli.

     The deal was a pennant-winner for the Giants. Antonelli topped New York's hurlers with a 21-7 record and a league-best 2.30 ERA.

     Because of his ankle injury in Milwaukee's spring camp, Thomson played only 43 games in August and September. It was his most frustrating major league season. He batted a career-worst .232 with two homers and 15 RBI.

     Bobby was his worst critic: "I think I had potential to be a legitimate guy out there, but I think I was a disappointment to the Giants because I was inconsistent.

     "In New York, after that famous home run, they expected me to be up there every year. That homer raised me to a high level, with the top guys in the game.

     "Actually, I started off doing the same thing in 1952. We were playing St. Louis in the Polo Grounds early in the season, and we were losing by three runs. I'm up at bat with the bases loaded, and there were two outs in the ninth inning.

     "So it came right down to the final out, and I hit a grand slam home run! I was continuing with 'Bobby Thomson Heroics,' you might call it. But that didn't last."

     In 1955 and 1956 Thomson was platooned in Milwaukee. Hank Aaron in right and Billy Bruton in center anchored the outfield. In 1955 Bobby came back, hitting .257 with 12 homers and 56 RBI in 101 games. But in 1956 he dipped to .235, although producing 20 four-baggers and 75 RBI.

     Needing a second baseman to win the pennant in 1957, the Braves traded Thomson back to the Giants for "Red" Schoendienst. Milwaukee not only finished first, but they topped the Yankees in a seven-game World Series.

     Bobby, traded away from pennant-winners in 1954 and 1957, was swapped to the Cubs for Bob Speake and cash on April 3, 1958. He gave Chicago two good seasons, averaging .283 with 21 homers and 76 RBI in 1958. But his numbers slipped to .259, 11 homers, and 52 RBI in 1959.

     Bobby spent his final season in the American League, playing 40 games for the Boston Red Sox and three for the Baltimore Orioles. After batting .250 with five home runs and 20 RBI, he went home discouraged.

     What happened in 1960? "I'd had it. We had just bought a new home, and I remember that was my big interest.

     "I didn't look forward to leaving, because we were just into a new home, and getting it in shape. I had one daughter at the time, and I didn't look forward to leaving for spring training.

     "I realized in my own heart that that's wrong. That's taking money for nothing, you know, when you have to go. In my mind, I had had enough of baseball.

     "I didn't do well. I played at Boston, and they traded me to Baltimore after a while. My heart just wasn't in it. I remember I misjudged a fly ball playing for Baltimore.

     "We were playing in Comiskey Park, and somehow I misjudged a high fly ball, and I thought, 'What in the world is going on?'

     "So it was in my mind. My body wasn't through. But I had lost my confidence."

     After being released, Thomson went home, talked the situation over with his wife "Winky," took a battery of aptitude tests at Stevens Institute, and began working as a salesman for Westvaco. He handled industrial packaging and bags. Today he is retired. He still plays golf, and he still enjoys old-time baseball.

     When he reflects on it, Thomson believes that his most famous home run has lasted as a dramatic sports story because of three critical elements:

1. the tremendous Giant-Dodger intercity rivalry

2. the New York media

3. Russ Hodges calling the shot, 'The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!...'

     "If the Dodgers' Red Barber had been announcing it," Bobby remarked, "it would have been, 'A long fly ball to left field, it's a home run.'"

     Also, the circumstances of the game affected Thomson in an unpredictable way. For example, the injury suffered by Mueller when sliding into third briefly halted the game. Time was called as Leo Durocher, the trainer, and several Giant players, including Thomson, gathered around to help the fallen Mueller.

     Thomson explained that Mueller's injury broke the tension he felt as he waited on deck. In your mind, return to that October afternoon in 1951.

     Try visualizing the events as Thomson remembers them:

     "The way I looked at it, the way I rationalize it, I had the bat in my hand and I was down there at third, and Mueller was in real trouble, and that took my mind off the game.

     "Mueller had made a very poor slide into third base, and he really hurt his ankle. They had to carry him off the field. Frankly, my thoughts were with him. He was very uncomfortable lying there on the field.

     "It wasn't until they carried him off the field that I thought, 'Hey, it's time to get to work.' At that point they had made a pitching change, and I wasn't even aware of the pitching change until I got to home plate.

     "It was just a once-in-a-lifetime situation for me, where you know you're in a spot. You're not in a daze, but you're kind of in a mindset. Looking back on it, I just was totally concentrating on my next move.

     "People have asked me, 'What was the crowd like?' 'What was going on in the ballpark?'

     "Well, I was in the ballpark all by myself. I wasn't aware of the crowd. Rationalizing what took place, I think I got back to fundamentals.

     "I remember walking to home plate, psyching myself up, 'Give yourself a chance, wait and watch, do a good job.' I'm calling myself names all the way to home. I'd never done that before.

     "Wait and watch, wait and watch, give yourself a chance, do a good job, because, you know, that's all you can ask for yourself. The Good Lord does the rest. Sit back, wait for the ball, and have a good whack at it, versus getting overanxious and getting your weight out front.

     "So I take credit for sitting back and waiting for the ball. Of course, I took the first pitch, right down the middle. Whether that was a result of waiting and watching, I don't know. But that's the way it worked out.

     "All I know is that I had 90 feet to walk to home plate, and I had never in my life talked to myself that way, or had things like that run through my mind.

     "I mean, you're in the on-deck circle, you're up, you get up to bat. But I was just lost in the situation, wait and watch, calling myself names. That's all I wanted to do: to give myself a chance to hit, and let the Good Lord take it from there.

     "I was totally wrapped up in two words, concentration and determination, to do a good job."

     Thomson responded with a great job. Everyone in the ballpark, from the manager and players to the spectators and the park attendants, was focused on him. A radio audience of millions waited on the words from Russ Hodges.

     Branca fired the fateful pitch, Thomson swung smoothly, and the baseball world followed the line drive home run that made an unlikely hero out of the underrated 27-year-old slugger.

     All these years later, the former Giant is still a hero because he rose to the occasion when life presented him with his greatest opportunity. A true professional and a real gentleman who epitomizes the national pastime, Bobby still receives a large amount of fan mail. He says that replying to the fans is all part of the game.

     "People have asked me," Bobby Thomson reminisced, "'Do you resent the fact that the 1951 homer is all I'm remembered for?'

     "What I say is, 'I feel fortunate that I had my one moment in the sun. It's nice to be remembered.'"

Bobby Thomson, Giant Hero : A Famous Slugger from Baseball's Golden Era