Billy Wagner will be inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame this weekend — a moment more than 30 years in the making, but one that traces back to a small college in the hills of southwest Virginia.
The bright lights of Cooperstown feel worlds away from Ferrum, a Division III school in his home state. But the school offered Wagner exactly what he needed.
"I was undersized, so I wasn't a very sought-after commodity," Wagner said. "But Ferrum was the place I landed. It ended up being a really good fit for me."
That "fit" turned into three dominant seasons and a transformation that launched one of the most electric arms baseball has ever seen. That arm went on to produce 422 career saves in the majors, eighth most in MLB history and second among left-handed pitchers, across 16 seasons. Wagner played for the Houston Astros (1995-2003), Philadelphia Phillies (2004-05), New York Mets (2006-09), Boston Red Sox (2009) and Atlanta Braves (2010). He was a seven-time All-Star and one of only a handful of relievers to finish his career with more strikeouts (1,196) than innings pitched (903). He's the first left-handed relief pitcher to earn a Hall of Fame induction and the first baseball player from a Division III school to do so.
Billy Wagner's Hall of Fame journey began at Ferrum, where he developed into one of the most dominant pitchers in NCAA Division III history. (Photo by Kevin C. Cox / Getty Images)
"Going through this, it's just been a buildup — a celebration of sacrifices that so many people gave for me to get to where I wanted to be. It's more of a celebration of a lot of the guys, of Division III, of the state of Virginia. There was so much to be proud of because it took a village to get me to this point, and I'm just happy that there was so much support and people for me," Wagner said. "You start looking at all the things that you've had to go through and overcome and persevere. The word perseverance comes out every time I think about how far I've come and what it took to get to this point. It is a celebration of a lot of great things and a lot of people. I benefited from them all."
At Ferrum, Wagner set NCAA Division III records for strikeouts per nine innings (19.1 in 1992) and fewest hits allowed per nine innings (1.58 in 1992). He finished with a 17-3 record, a 1.63 ERA and 327 strikeouts in just 182.1 innings. By 1993, he was a first-team All-American — and a first-round MLB draft pick. He was inducted into the College Baseball Hall of Fame in 2019.
"I watched his entire journey. I watched all the ups and downs. He's a deserving person, and for the rest of his life, he'll be known as one of the greatest relief pitchers to ever play the game. That's not an opinion anymore. That's a fact," longtime Ferrum head coach Abe Naff, who retired in 2007, said to the Ferrum College student newspaper. "He's always been a Hall of Famer as a person. The thing that stands out about Billy is he was always considered a great teammate, and I think that's the highest honor you can give a baseball player."
Wagner is known for his flame-throwing left arm and 5-foot-10 stature. But it was what surrounded him that shaped him — the grit, the opportunities, the people and, at the start, a second sport.Wagner arrived at Ferrum as a dual-sport athlete, playing football and baseball. That football toughness, he said, gave him an edge on the mound.
"Football created grit," said Wagner, who was among several baseball players who also played football at Ferrum. "Everyone had that black cat mentality when they got on the field."
Wagner was still splitting time between football and baseball when one of his coaches stepped in to have a conversation that stuck. Dave Davis, his defensive backs coach at Ferrum, had been watching Wagner from the sidelines and saw something different when he picked up a baseball.
"I know you love football," Davis told him, "but your future is probably going to be in baseball."
It was one of those moments that didn't feel major in the moment. But it turned out to be pivotal.
Ferrum didn't just shape Wagner's baseball career; it shaped his life. It's also where he met his wife, Sarah Quesenberry, a standout basketball player who scored more than 1,200 points for the Panthers. The two started dating as sophomores — before, Wagner joked, she even knew he played baseball. More than 30 years later, she's been by his side through every pitch, move and milestone.
"She knew me when I had nothing," Wagner said. "She's ridden every emotional roller coaster with me — all the way to the Hall of Fame."
Along the way, he followed in the footsteps of several standout players and coaches who saw greatness in him and tapped into it in different ways.
Darren Hodges, a former Ferrum pitcher who was drafted by the New York Yankees in 1990, was among that group. Though he and Wagner didn't play together in college, Hodges dropped by during the offseason.
Wagner credits one bullpen session with Hodges as a turning point when Wagner was first starting at Ferrum. That lesson in subtle mechanics — a tweak in his delivery, a more deliberate rhythm — became the kind of development that can happen only when talent meets time and the right teacher.
"He worked with me right away and showed me how to actually be a pitcher. One bullpen session changed my life," he said. "A twitch here, a turn there — I threw harder, I got better. With reps and consistency, by junior year I was a completely different player."
Wagner credits the relationships and mentorship at Ferrum — including with legendary coach Abe Naff — as pivotal to his growth on and off the field. (Photo by Ronald Martinez / Getty Images)
By his junior year, the lights were on. Wagner finished that 1992 season with 109 strikeouts in just 51.1 innings, allowing only nine hits. He averaged over two strikeouts per inning, and his dominance on the mound drew serious attention.
Still, the MLB draft felt far off. And unrealistic.
"It felt far-fetched," Wagner said. "Scouts would talk, but they seem to talk about everything, and most of the time it's meaningless. I didn't even look at it. I didn't think about it."
Competing well in the Cape Cod Baseball League, a high-level summer league for college baseball players, shifted his self-belief in what his future in the sport might hold.
"What I found out was it wasn't that big of difference for me when I got to Cape Cod," Wagner said. "That was the first inkling that maybe something special was possible."
Wagner said his head coach at Ferrum believed in him from the beginning, even when his early arm strength did not always — or often — equal accuracy.
One particularly memorable game came during Wagner's freshman season. He had a perfect game going into the ninth inning, which he started by walking four straight batters to prompt a mound visit from Naff.
"Abe came out, had a few choice words, gave me a pat on the back and a boot in the butt and got me back on track, and I punched out the side," Wagner recalled with a laugh. "I finished it and chucked my glove at him. He laughed. There was a way he knew how to talk to me and put me where I need to be.
"To this day, I owe so much to him. He gave me, as a freshman, an opportunity. By no means was it an easy road. I'd strike out two, walk three; strikeout four, walk two. There was never an easy inning, so I think his ability to understand it doesn't matter how you did it, just get it done, allowed me to grow and develop."
Naff's impact on Wagner goes beyond the baseball field, too. It's also seeped into his coaching career, a plot twist in life that quickly followed his retirement from the mound in 2010. He's served as the head coach of the Miller School of Albemarle, a high school in Virginia, for the past 13 seasons, and won his fourth state baseball title with the team in May.
"Abe used to say, 'You get a hat and an opportunity.' That's what I tell my players," Wagner said. "(Naff) never let me take a moment off. He knew how to coach an individual, and he didn't coach every individual the same. That's what I've taken away from him is that everybody is different, so you can't coach everybody the same way."
Wagner has also served as a volunteer coach at Ferrum, where his former teammate Eric Owens is the head coach.
"I love being back involved with Ferrum and giving back as much as possible," Wagner said. "My playing career was great, but I love seeing other people succeed even more. I can't imagine not coaching."
Wagner's story as an undersized, underrecruited and raw athlete trying to prove people wrong is broadly relatable to many of the players he coaches. His advice to them mirrors what he learned at Ferrum and during his rise in the MLB.
"It's not going to be easy," he said. "You're going to have to deal with the naysayers, and you're going to have to sit here and understand that you have to be self-driven, self-motivated, and the nos have to be motivational blocks that you use to build and trust who you are."
One block Wagner recalled occurred after he was drafted.
"I remember a scout with the Astros after I got drafted, sitting in Salt Lake City, leaned over my shoulder and said, 'I didn't want to draft you because I think you're too little and I think you'll break down,'" Wagner recalled.
But he didn't break.
"You just have to turn each opportunity into a building block and a stepping stone," Wagner said. "That's really how I looked at it."
This weekend, that block becomes bronze — a Hall of Fame honor built on a foundation first laid at Ferrum, where belief and opportunity met a young man ready to run with both.
"The thing we talk about today with kids is finding a place that fits you," Wagner said. "Ferrum was a place that allowed me to be good, to develop, to understand what I was trying to do and to find, really, myself."
Now a National Baseball Hall of Famer, Wagner remains connected to Ferrum College as a volunteer coach, mentoring the next generation of student-athletes. (Photo by Michael Heiman / Getty Images)
