Quote of the Day | July 10, 2008: Younger Brothers

From The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, 2000:

Lee May had a younger brother, Carlos, who also played in the majors. Carlos got 80% of the talent in the family; he was as strong as Lee, which was very strong indeed, but he could also run, and he could throw a little bit. He was a natural hitter, a lefty, and he knew the strike zone. When he was 21 years old he looked like the second coming of Willie Mays.

Carlos blew his thumb off in a military training accident, which cost him a lot, but there was another problem. Whereas Lee May was a hard-working, hustling player within the limits of his ability, a respected clubhouse leader in the early days of the Big Red Machine, Carlos played baseball as if he really didn't give a shit, pardon my French. I have noticed this same syndrome other times, that when you have brothers who are baseball players, very often the youngest brother has or is credited with having the most talent in the family, but turns out to be the one who does the least with it.

The reason I notice this . . . in the town that I grew up in (Mayetta, Kansas), we had a family of brothers who were baseball players. Their father had played in the minors for years, and all the boys were good baseball players with strong arms. But the youngest brother, Danny, was by far the best athlete in the family, the only one who had real talent. When I was in the eighth grade I think Danny was in the third grade. We had a "field day" at school once a year, one event of which was the softball throw. Danny won the softball throw -- not the third/fourth grade softball throw, the school-wide softball throw. No joke; we were 12 and 13 years old, and this eight-year-old kid could throw a softball further than any of us. We were just astonished; we thought when he got bigger he would really be something.

But whereas all of the older boys in the family were well-liked, responsible, focused kids who did the best they could, Danny just didn't get it. He never did amount to anything, even as an amateur athlete, because he just didn't really care.

So anyway, I've noticed this same thing in baseball families. As the Alou brothers were emerging, Jesus Alou was the one who was always thought to have real, big-time talent, but he never did very much with it. I think that the reason this happens, perhaps, is that when a boy has several older brothers who play ball, he may play a lot of baseball at a very early age. Because the kid has played way more baseball than the other kids his age, he may be years ahead of them in the development of his skills -- and it will look, to those around him, like he has just worlds of talent.

But in reality, the younger sibling is being pulled along by his brothers' interest in the game, while his own interests and his own focus, once it develops, may be somewhere else. Of course, once in awhile you get the younger who does have the focus and the desire to excel, and then you get Joe DiMaggio or George Brett. But there aren't very many Joe DiMaggios or George Bretts. Most of the time, you get Hector Cruz or Jesus Martinez.

Tags: Bill James, baseball, Moneyball