ATLANTA — Phillies center fielder Brandon Marsh grew up in Buford, Ga., about an hour north of Turner Field. He was raised on Andruw Jones and Chipper Jones and John Smoltz, and come October, he expected to see his team in the playoffs.
It’s an understandable expectation. From 1995, two years before Marsh was born, to 2006, the Braves played meaningful baseball every fall. He remembers watching it at home, from his living room couch in Buford with his father, Jake.
Brandon would share his aspirations. He didn’t just want to make it to the big leagues. He wanted to play in October, like the Braves did.
“You’ll get there someday,” Jake told his son.
This season, Brandon got there. After making his MLB debut in July 2021 with the Los Angeles Angels, he was acquired by the Phillies at the trade deadline, and is now playing meaningful baseball as temperatures start to drop. On Tuesday and Wednesday, Marsh will have the opportunity to play meaningful baseball in October in Atlanta, the place that shaped him, as the Phillies take on the Braves in the NL Division Series.
His father won’t be there, at least not in the traditional sense. Jake Marsh was diagnosed with tongue and throat cancer in 2017. After he beat it, about a year later, the cancer returned, this time in his kidneys. It spread up his body, all the way to his head.
At the very end, the elder Marsh was unable to walk, and was barely able to speak, but he watched every pitch of his son’s career as he ascended through the minor leagues. In March 2021, he took a flight from Atlanta to Phoenix to watch Brandon play in person for the last time. It wasn’t an easy ordeal. He was in a wheelchair, which made travel difficult.
But he was there, for the last game of spring training. He knew his time was short, so he made the most of it. They talked for hours about baseball and life and who Brandon wanted to be and what he wanted to accomplish. His father told him how he proud he was. And about a month later, in April, he died.
While this postseason journey has been a thrill for the Phillies center fielder, it has also been bittersweet.
“I’m not going to say he wanted it more than me, but he wanted it just as bad, if not more,” Marsh said of his father. “It would have been nice to have him here for it because I know he would have wanted to be here for moments like this. But in a way, he’s here. And he’s getting to see it from the best seat in the house.”
Sometimes, Marsh will be standing in center field, and he’ll see something that reminds him of his father. Often, it’s a butterfly. The day after his father died, Marsh was sitting on the hood of his friend’s car when a butterfly landed next to him. He tried to shoo it away, but it wouldn’t budge.
“If anything, it got closer,” he said. “I feel like I’ve seen a million butterflies since that day. And whenever I see one, I’m like, ‘I see you, buddy.’
“It’s a comforting feeling, having him there with me. It gives me confidence. It puts me in the right headspace to go up to the plate and try to get a knock, or have a productive at-bat, or run down a play. He’s definitely with me.”
Since his father died, Marsh has played the game in his honor. He wears a red bracelet around his left wrist that says “believe.” He wears his hair in a beard as a way of lovingly chirping at his father, who was clean-cut and got a haircut once a week. But above all, he honors his father in how he hustles. He’ll run hard to first base, stretch a single into a double, and track down a ball in the outfield, no matter how far it may be. Those were things his father harped on.
Now, Marsh will be able to show that hustle in October, when it matters most. It won’t be easy, but it’s not supposed to be. And his father has a funny way of showing up when his son needs him most. It seems like every time life gets difficult, a butterfly happens to float on by.
