Brothers
Brothers don't shake hands. Brothers gotta hug!
With all due respect to my sister, I always wanted a brother when I was growing up. My cousin Scott was the closest I had, and he’s always fit the bill pretty well. He had an actual brother, but Philip was a few years older than us. Both of us looked up to him, at least until Phil entered high school and decided he wasn’t really all that interested in either of us. Over time, both Scott and I realized that snub was probably a bit of a blessing in disguise, and while all three of us had our issues as we pushed into adulthood, we were clearly better off taking our own path than following Phil down his.
Scott and I were born only four months apart (I’m older), but because of where our birthdays fall on the calendar, we were in different grades in school. This never kept us from being in the same friend group, and despite not being in the same classes, we were regularly around each other outside of school. I’ve written many times about our epic baseball matchups in our grandparents’ yard, and I recently touched on our shared love of Notre Dame football and our peculiar superstitions that still endure.
It's far from a perfectly matching overlay, but we have similar interests in movies, TV shows, music, and video games.* I’ve moved around more than him over the years, but we always keep in touch, and we go to the same family holiday gatherings throughout the year, in addition to simply hanging out on any given weekend. Outside of my immediate family, he’s my go-to accomplice for baseball games and other major sporting events.
*One of my earliest articles was about our ongoing Ken Griffey Jr. Presents Major League Baseball on SNES rivalry, and we recently brought back Tecmo Super Bowl for football season.
I think of Scott as my brother, and for all intents and purposes he is. In addition to all the reasons I’ve already listed, I know he has my back. I’m not saying we’re perfect or above the occasional argument, though they are generally pretty minor and few and far between these days, but even in the midst of a dust-up, I know I can count on him. If I ever need something important, I trust him to do whatever he can to help me out, like a brother should.
But the simple fact of the matter is we aren’t brothers. We might be really close, but we’re not, and I think it’s more than just a technicality. Nor am I especially sorry this is the case. Because true brothers have a strange dynamic, I’ve noticed. They have all the good stuff I’ve just described, ideally, but there’s also a kind of inherent rivalry between them, no matter how well they get along. I think it’s partly instinctual, and perhaps it’s also forced on them to some degree by the outside. I’ve observed it in my own sons, despite their very different personalities.
This dynamic can be problematic, which is why I’m glad Scott and I have largely avoided it as cousins, but I don’t want to imply it’s entirely bad. Baseball history is filled with examples of talented brothers who both reached the Show, and while most of them have been supportive of their siblings, I have to believe their skills were sharpened by the competitive drive between them. How could it not? To live with that rivalry, not only on the field, but in practically every aspect of your life, and never get a reprieve from in it, even in your own house, sounds incredibly stressful, if I’m being honest. But if properly channeled, it could also be very beneficial.
Nor does it need to be limited to only two siblings. Take the DiMaggios, for example. Joe DiMaggio is one of the greatest players in baseball history. He’s a Hall-of-Famer, a Yankee legend, a nine-time World Series champion whose 56-game hitting streak record will probably live forever, ensuring his name will be remembered by each successive generation of baseball fans until the end of time, and oh yeah, he was also married to Marilyn Monroe. The guy did pretty well for himself. But how much of it was due to being pushed by his brothers?
Of course, that’s an impossible question to answer. It couldn’t have hurt though. His older brother, Vince, also a centerfielder,* was probably the least talented of the trio, and he still went to two All-Star games. Vince bounced around to several teams, but spent most of his career with the Pirates. According to some accounts, he wasn’t close to his younger brothers, but I think that only adds some credence to my point. Love him or hate him, a younger brother always wants to be better than his older sibling, and Vince set the bar pretty high.
*They were all centerfielders.
To their credit, Joe and their youngest brother, Dom, did more than just top him. Joe is the legend, but Dom was really damn good too. Nicknamed “the Little Professor” due to his short stature and trademark glasses, he’s been inspiring nerds like me to play baseball for nearly three-quarters of a century. Dom was a seven-time All-Star, and he’s a certifiable Red Sox legend, which feels both appropriate and poetic, given his brother’s status with the Yankees, but he fell short of the Hall of Fame. In the words of one of my favorite writers, David Halberstam, Dom was “probably the most underrated player of his day.”
That’s another common theme for MLB brothers. All of them are immensely talented, or else they wouldn’t have made it to the majors, but it always seems like one of them is just a bit better. This holds true for the first pair of brothers I remember watching.
Phil and Joe Niekro were both knuckleball pitchers. The knuckleball is a rare thing these days, and it’s always been a bit of an oddity. Personally, I’ve been fascinated by it my whole life, and if I ever figure out how to properly throw one, you’ll be the first to hear about it. Seriously, that would be one of my crowning achievements, and I’d probably never stop bragging it up. So yeah, I like the knuckleball, and naturally, I liked the Niekro brothers.
Joe was a damn good pitcher, even if he is most remembered these days for the time a nail file fell out of his back pocket during a mound visit by the umpire. Not a great look, but don’t let that diminish your opinion of Joe. He won 221 games in his career, but he could never catch his older brother.* Phil won his three-hundredth game in 1985, the first year I started watching baseball, and was inducted into Cooperstown.
*The Niekros are an example of the older brother holding off his hard-driving junior sibling.
Only one pair of brothers has ever been elected to the Hall of Fame together.* They are Paul (Big Poison) and Lloyd (Little Poison) Waner. They were way before my time, both of them playing from the mid-1920’s to 1945, so everything I know about them is from the history books. They played most of their careers together in Pittsburgh, and I have to wonder if the dynamic I’ve been talking about continued to propel them each forward during the course of their major league careers.
*Although, according to Bill James, Lloyd Waner shouldn’t be in, for whatever that’s worth.
Perhaps by that point in their lives, they were able to set the rivalry aside and simply enjoy it. I have a hard time believing that entirely, but they were very different players— Paul was a power hitter, and Lloyd hit for average, was faster, and a much better defender— so maybe that helped diffuse any one-upmanship still at play. As far as I can tell, they seemed to like each other well enough, which had to help too. Rivalry is one thing, but brothers should have each other’s backs.
This was the case with the last pair I want to highlight. Ramon and Pedro are probably my favorite MLB brothers. Ramon was the older one, and he seemed like the surer bet. He debuted for the Dodgers in 1988 and put together his best season in 1990, going 20-6 with a 2.92. He was on track to becoming the next great pitcher in Dodgers blue, and I definitely took notice. But as Ramon, himself, would have pointed out, he wasn’t even the best pitcher in his family.
Pedro was three years younger, and he was a scrawny kid. In fact, because of his frame, most MLB scouts didn’t think he had much of a future. The Dodgers only signed him as a favor to his brother, who they viewed as the real star, and he debuted in their bullpen in 1992. Nothing about his intro to the Show stood out, but I saw something, even if the scouts didn’t.* Maybe it was his fiery demeanor, or Ramon talking him up in interviews, but I knew he was going to be something special.
*Remember when I said I would obnoxiously brag if I ever threw a proper knuckleball? Well, I don’t often get things right that MLB scouts miss, but Pedro was one of them, so you’re damn right I’m going to sing it from the rooftops!
The Dodgers didn’t agree though, and they traded him to the Expos, kickstarting the career of one of the greatest pitchers in MLB history. Peak Pedro was the best I’ve ever seen (along with Greg Maddux), and his career spanned eighteen seasons and five teams, though his prime was with the Expos and Red Sox. Among his many accomplishments, he went to eight All-Star games, won three Cy Young awards, and played a pivotal role in ending the Curse of the Bambino. His 1997, 1999, and 2000 seasons are masterpieces, and of course, he was a first ballot HOFer.
Ramon’s career, unfortunately, was sidetracked by injuries. He continued to play until 2001, and overall, he had a fine run. Whether he could have matched, or even topped his little brother if he’d stayed healthy is something we’ll never know, although he would probably be the first to say it’s extremely unlikely. As it is, he has nothing to hang his head about, and he’s always been his brother’s greatest advocate and number one fan, which is exactly how it should be.
So, I don’t feel robbed in that sense. I think I got the best of brotherhood with my cousin. All the good stuff without the petty hang-ups. But who knows? If we’d had that dynamic, would one, or both of us have made it to the Show? Would my newsletter be recapping my major league career instead of whatever it is I’m doing here?
By the way, you don’t have to answer that question. We all know the answer, but there’s no harm in indulging us. Just let me and Scott have this one. Deal?
Thanks for reading Powder Blue Nostalgia. Whether you have a brother or not, I hope you enjoyed this week’s post. If you do have a bro, why not sing their praises or bust their chops in the comments? Or, if you’re like me and don’t have one, did you have a stand-in? Who are your favorite MLB siblings?
Even as the oldest, it’s absolutely true that the mere fact of having brothers pushed me, especially athletically. I never wanted to lose and I never wanted them to be better than me. Selfish, I know, and for the most part I was the better athlete. They are better at other things tho!
For the younger brothers out there, your patron saint should be Robin Yount. See, Robin's older brother Larry made it to the majors, then hurt his arm warming up before his debut. Since he was announced as the new pitcher, he is credited with appearing in that game, but he never actually participated. He also never made it back to the majors. Meanwhile, Robin went on to a Hall of Fame career (inducted with George Brett, another guy with a major-league brother). Although Wikipedia says Larry Yount became a successful real estate developer and Robin's agent, so I suppose he still had a pretty good life.