Al Brancato, shortstop for Philadelphia Athletics in the late 1930’s and early 1940’s,
passed away Thursday June 14, 2012,
at the age of 93 at an assisted-living facility in Granite Run, Pennsylvania. In
2008, I visited Brancato at his home in Upper Darby, where he graciously
shared the details of his career over lunch at his dining room table.
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| Al Brancato |
Growing up in South Philadelphia, it was on the sandlots where he cut
his teeth playing against other professionals.
“I would play semi-pro
with all of the local players who would come back from playing pro ball
who couldn’t make any money there,” Brancato said. “I played for [a
team] at 58th and Elmwood. That’s how I honed my skills, playing with
the older guys and playing against the black teams in Chester. You
learned from being around those guys. The talk, how they played, you
watched all of this. The leagues around Philadelphia were very good.”
Bolstered by his experience against these veteran players, Brancato caught the attention of the legendary Connie Mack
and fulfilled every child’s dream of playing for their hometown team,
when he signed with the Philadelphia Athletics for a $1,000 bonus while
still a senior at Southern High School.
“I started in 1938 with Mr. Mack" he said. "He took me right out of high school
and to spring training before I finished high school.”
Eager to make an impression during spring training, Brancato’s career was quickly derailed after a battle with the foul line.
“I didn’t even have much of a spring training," he said. "In those days, the
white lines were made out of powder with lye. I got some powder in my
eyes after diving for a ball so I was out for a few weeks.”
After recovering from his injury, he was sent to Class A in
Williamsport, Pennsylvania, but the competition for the rookie proved too stiff. He only batted .160 in 25 at-bats and they sent him down to Class B
Greenville, where he finished the 1938 season with a respectable
.281 average.
Ready to tackle a full year of competition in A ball, Brancato
entered 1939 hoping to make good on last season’s failure. He stayed
with the team all season, and responded by hitting .279 as their
full-time third baseman. In an unexpected move, Brancato was called in
September by Mack to join the team in Philadelphia.
“He brought me up at the end of the season in 1939," he said. "I was just about
20. That was a big deal to be a hometown boy up that quick."
Brancato played third base for the month of September while Mack
tried out a variety of youngsters in the infield. He put up a .206 average which
included his first major league home run during the last game of
the season against Washington Senators pitcher Joe Haynes.
He stuck with the club the next two years and emerged as their
starting shortstop in 1941. Given the chance to play regularly, Brancato
had his best season at the plate, batting .234 in 530 at-bats. His
fielding, however, needed work, as he committed 61 errors at shortstop.
It is a single-season record that still stands today. Despite his
troubles in the field, Brancato felt that he could match up with any
other fielder in the majors.
“I thought as an infielder, I threw as well as anyone in the league. I had that kind of an arm.”
Nineteen-forty-one was also memorable for two other reasons, Joe DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak and Ted Williams’
batting record of .406. Williams entered the last day of the season
with a .3995 average, which would have rounded up to .400 if he
chose sit out the forthcoming doubleheader against Brancato’s Athletics.
Williams wanted the mark with no questions asked and played in both
games of the doubleheader. He responded by going six-for-eight in both
games. Brancato was the starting third baseman in the second contest.
“In 1941, I played the second game where he hit the .400 mark,” he said. "It was
the last day of the season. He swung the bat and hit
the scoreboard in Philadelphia. You didn’t need a third baseman when he
was hitting, he never bunted. They played half the field for him. Nobody
had the shift we did with Williams. Not that I remember. … Ted Williams
knew what ball was coming and how it was coming. If I was playing third
base against him, I was [really] playing short stop with him. He hit
that scoreboard like [it was] nothing.”
Just as the 22-year-old Brancato was getting a toe-hold in the major
leagues, his career was interrupted when he enlisted in the Navy shortly after the Pearl Harbor bombing. Rumors swirled
that Brancato had a special deal that he would be assigned to a Navy
supply store in Philadelphia so that he could continue to play for the
Athletics.
The Naval office in Philadelphia quickly refuted this idea, stating, "Brancato is going into the Navy to fight."
Brancato saw active duty in the Pacific and was later part of a Navy baseball team that included Hall of Famers Bill Dickey, Johnny Mize, Pee Wee Reese. and Phil Rizzuto. He spent almost four years in the military and returned in time to join the Athletics at the end of the 1945 season.
“I was broke coming out from the Navy for four years," he said. "I didn’t have
any money; I had no place to go, so I went back without even thinking.
They had a rule that they had to keep you a whole year, which he [Mack]
didn’t keep. I should have squawked, but I went back just to make a
paycheck for the last [few] weeks that the season was ending. I was up
the creek with that deal. During the winter he sold me to Toronto.”
Brancato walked right into another historical occurrence during the 1946 season. Just as he was at the intersection of Ted Williams' record setting efforts a few years prior, his 1946 campaign put him up close with the tribulations Jackie Robinson faced in the minor leagues.
“They shipped me to Toronto, and then to Louisville where we were in the Little World Series against Jackie Robinson,” he said. “When I was with Louisville and Montreal came into town for the Little
World Series, they wouldn’t let him stay at the hotel. That was a big
problem. They were going to go back to Canada because
he didn’t have a place to stay. That was a big ‘to do.’ The two hotels
we stayed at wouldn’t allow them in there. … He didn’t do much during
the series. He was a bit upset over the hotel situation, and he was a
big deal in Montreal.”
Ironically, Brancato was traded in 1947 to the Dodgers AAA team in
St. Paul. Robinson and his former teammate Reese would block
whatever shot he had at returning to the major leagues. Despite putting
up solid numbers, the call never came.
“I never got a good chance to get back up even though I had a few
good years at St. Paul,” Brancato lamented. “It was a case of too many young guys coming too
fast from all over the place. I was a good guy to
have around. That’s what it seemed like. If they needed someone to play,
I was there and could do a good job of playing. I don’t know why I got
that reputation, because I played well in St. Paul.”
He played eight more seasons in the minor leagues. His career
came to an abrupt end in 1953 while serving as a player-manager in
Elmira.
“That was a mistake," Brancato said. "I got hurt when one of the guys from
the Philadelphia teams banged into me while sliding. I had to try to
manage from the bench, hurt on crutches. I just faded out the next
year. That was my big mistake, trying to play and
manage. It didn’t go to well. You had to think too much. I was more of a
player. I liked to play and make the plays.” Looking back in 2008,
Brancato wondered if he had missed an opportunity. “That was a good
chance for me. That’s how the Dodgers got all of their managers, through
the system that way. I didn’t acclimate myself that well. I had 14
years of playing; I didn’t fall apart, I just gave it up. They wanted me
to go down and manage in the D league, which maybe I should have done. I
was married with three kids. I had a tough time deciding what to do.”
Returning to Philadelphia, Brancato couldn’t shake his love for
baseball. He worked at St. Josephs University as an assistant baseball
coach under Jack Ramsay, who later was inducted into the NBA Hall
of Fame for his basketball coaching exploits. After two seasons as an
assistant, he took over the program for six years as the head coach.
“I coached at St. Joe’s for six years, and then I gave it up," he said. "College
guys now are getting a lot of money coaching a team. When I was
coaching at St. Joe’s that was the last year they had their field on
City Line Avenue. They gave that up. We had to practice in the park; we
never had a field to play with. We had to go all over the place to play
games. And I was working too. I had to make a living. If
my company knew I was doing both and taking time out, I would have been
up the creek. It was a tough job trying to juggle both. You can’t work,
hold a family and run a ball club. I would have had to be a full-time
coach, but the money wasn’t there; you were making $2,000 for the
season. If we had to travel, I had to take a full day off from work. It
was tough after awhile.”
Brancato eventually settled into a quiet life in Delaware County and
was a favorite at card shows, especially with the Philadelphia Athletics
Historical Society. He remained a fan of the game, but acknowledged
there are clear differences in game he played 70 years after his debut.
“I still watch here and there," he
said. "It’s a different kind of a game. Look
at the size of them; they’re all 200-250. When I played, you had a few
6’2”- 6’3” guys, now everyone is. I was 180 when I played. I never saw so
many big guys. Little guys like me wouldn’t have a chance today."
While he acknowledged that some might dismiss his opinion as another disgruntled old timer, what he couldn't deny was the decline in fundamentals he saw on the field.
“When I played, you had all of the guys who knew how to
play," he said. "From the late 1930s and up, they came up the long way. If we
complain, they say, ‘You’re old-time, you don’t know what you are
talking about.’ Defensively, I’ve never saw so many one-handed catches.
How often do you see a two-handed outfield catch? They say
baseball is baseball, but it’s different; it’s changed. … They say, 'You’re an old-timer.' Well, it’s the truth. We are old-timers. They
can’t say it’s the same. There are more teams. How many of these guys
would be there if there were still 16 teams?”
Brancato’s passing represents a rapidly closing window of an era, as
now only four major leaguers remain that played in the 1930s. The time
spent with Brancato provided a peek into the major leagues prior to
World War II. With the absence of an abundance of video footage from
this era, only the stories remain to illustrate what baseball was like
at the time.
“You would really have to be back in my time to see the difference," he said.
