Jackie Robinson

64 years ago today, Jackie began to make all of the bad stuff go away. It didn't vanish over night, and he didn't do it alone, but on his shoulders, a huge weight was dumped, and with the help of Branch Rickey being willing to take a chance where no other man before him ever could, he made it count. For 3 years, he held his tongue. The biting killed this strong, but proud man within 25 years, but had it not been for his sacrifice, where would any of us be today?
Jackie did it before MLK Jr. and Malcolm X. He did it with non-violence like King, and he did it with the sense that all he wanted was a chance, pass or fail, and he did it without responding in racist kind like Malcolm X.
Jackie did it before the Civil Rights laws of the mid 1960s. He did it before America got all giddy about Obama saying yes we can because if it wasn't for Jackie, there would be nothing to do.
There would have been no Michael Jordan without Jackie Robinson. Instead, we'd still be in the era of tiny basketball shorts and a very sedate game - nothing like the era that would create Jordan - the outstretched arm of Julius Erving slamming one home with afro extended in a new style for a new time.
There wouldn't be Muhammad Ali trash talking his opponents while having the guts to lose his whole sports participation for his stand on Vietnam.
There wouldn't have been Jim Brown or Arthur Ashe. There wouldn't have been the Williams sisters or Tiger Woods.
Tommie Smith and John Carlos wouldn't have raised their fists skyward in the Olympics if not for the work of guys like Robinson (and Joe Louis and Jesse Owens). Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, and Frank Robinson wouldn't be in ourhallowed halls of all time great baseball players if not for Jackie Robinson's trailblazing suffering. In fact, Aaron might have finished his life as a caricature of himself while playing an Indianapolis Clown his whole life. Whatever we would and wouldn't have, we certainly wouldn't remember Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson the same way if Jackie Robinson hadn't made it to the major leagues instead of both of them. Walter Payton wouldn't have set rushing records and Wilt Chamberlain wouldn't have scored more points in a game than some teams do in the modern NBA. Had Jackie Robinson not suffered the onslaught of endless hordes of racist players, owners, and fans, Curt Flood would have never been able to be "well paid" in his time of segregation and mistreatment at the hands of Major League Baseball.
We'd be missing a lot of great athletes, entertainers, and politicians that have added to the accomplishments of the world, for better and for worse, but who were who they were because they had a chance - instead of being excluded in racist bullshit.
And last night, we wouldn't have had a celebration for Ryan Howard, a man who in spite of his many swings and misses (less this season so far) is a pillar of class and respect and love for the game. And while the Reading Phillies might have lost their home opener 5-0 after 7 really good 0-0 innings, it was the little figures and the 500-pound life size garden gnome that brought the fans out and kept them there for 7 innings of defensive and pitching greatness - 13 strikeouts by Akron and 12 more by Reading.
We might diss on him for the money he makes and what he doesn't do, but the fans love him. They love him a whole lot - at the time of writing this, there are several bids for his garden gnome that was given away (3500 of them in total) that are almost $50 after less than 1 full day.
And maybe it's because we're making bank on the figure, but frankly, it's amazing to see the love and desire that the figure is commanding. Last year, it was considered the best Minor League promotion of the year, and it went for over $100 in some cases on Ebay. This year, it stands to do just as well.
And for that, we have nothing but kudos to Mr. Howard for being who he is, but frankly, he owes a great debt to Jackie Robinson - especially on this day.
And for that, we feel a little tinge of soul with the greatest hits of Stax Records playing behind us... contemplating the legacy of all of those great people of color who got to be because Jackie hit a ball and scared the hell out of opposing pitchers while taking long leads off of bases.
Like James Brown said, "I've got soul... I'm superbad."
And so was Jackie.
In his words:
"A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives."
Look at all those people who Jackie inspired.
"The right of every American to first-class citizenship is the most important issue of our time."
Look at all those people who owe our eternal respects to this man.
"The way I figured it, I was even with baseball and baseball with me. The game had done much for me, and I had done much for it."
In the words of Buck O' Neil and Hank Aaron... much better than I could say it.
Rest in peace, Jackie Robinson - my hero, numero uno.

Howard Cosell

In life, there are 3 legitimate arguments to the Jackie Robinson story (and by legitimate, we mean that there were issues regarding what it meant in the historical context to all those who surrounded him), and they are:
1) Branch Rickey was all about making money. Sure, there was altruism, but he knew there was money to be made with blacks in baseball in the same way he knew that minor leagues would bring money (and a winning team). That said, when every owner and player of his day went out of their way to keep things segregated, Rickey fought for integration.
2) Jackie Robinson wasn't the best African American player in his day. Had he not died of alcholism and drug addiction related issues, Josh Gibson could have been first (or Satch or Monte or Judy or Cool Papa or Rube or Buck (Leonard or O' Neil) or Martin or (this list could go on and on)...), but none of these men had Jackie's ability to be cool under pressure and take one for the team (with beautiful wife sitting there with her back to the wall of abuse to make sure that all the things that she could keep from getting to her husband stopped short of his ears).
That being said, if U2's "Pride in the Name of Love" was the anthem for King, then this song by Woodrow Buddy Johnson and Count Basie is the anthem for Jackie.
3) The arrival of Jackie meant unemployment and devastation to African Americans employed in the Negro Leagues. To this, the integration and movement towards civil rights was seen as more important than baseball teams, and perhaps it was - except when it puts money in pockets to put food on the table.

If you look closely, you see there is no mention of Malcolm X's feelings about Jackie not being angry enough. Frankly, Mr. Little can stay toasty in Hell with his divisive feelings that filled his life for years and years while campaigning with the Nation of Islam.

What is important is the meaning and celebration of my hero numero uno - Jackie Roosevelt Robinson.
The anthem and pride for Mr. Robinson is surely not Arts and Entertainment's Biography on Jackie. The anthem could very easily be Ken Burns original 9 innings of Baseball and what is said throughout the course of Branch Rickey's beginnings to Jackie's death. The beauty and the evil are both there. The tears and the cheers are there. On A+E, it's "whited" out. For instance, throwing stones at the racist kids who threw them first is seen as Jackie being a trouble maker. Images and descriptions of racism are watered down with scenes from the movie of Jackie's life where he plays himself. Sadly, the second rate acting and the weak script kill much feeling for all of the great things Jackie did. While there is footage of the man in his day and the things he accomplished (stealing home in the World Series, winning the trophy for Brooklyn), it's too little, too late.
Perhaps the only redeeming part was Howard Cosell getting teared up thinking about Jackie Jr. having died in a car crash after drugs rattled his life until he got clean. There was a mention made to Cosell not wanting to say anything from Jackie and Rachel's conversation at the funeral regarding the need for privacy, but in eluding to the pressure of being a junior... and the pressure of being Jackie Jr... we can only imagine the scars of Vietnam, Civil Rights, and what baseball did to his father that took their toll on the son. To this, I never knew Cosell, but in watching, I wonder just what I would think of the man who campaigned with so many great African American sports stars in an effort to bring them closer to the lives of white America (and I wonder what I would have thought after he made his "monkey run" comment)?
And so we learn many things, but if we watch this video - especially before seeing Mr. Burns' masterpiece, we'll never know the true Jackie.
And for that, A&E would have blood on its hands.

Jim Thorpe

There's something about the spectacle that is the Superbowl. The pomp, the circumstance, the hype, and the hope that 2 teams can come together in an epic clash and make it all the way to the end of the 4th quarter and still be going strong enough that they both have a chance to win because that's what it's all about.
Somewhere in the game is a minor league carnival of whatever. While there aren't T-shirt cannons and crazy ostrich riders / hot dog vendors, there is still enough "other stuff" that people who don't care about football can enjoy the jubilation of Rah Rah America Kicks Ass Day (if Obama really wants to impress me, he'll rename Superbowl Sunday as such and make the next day an official half day like they did when I was in the Air Force (at least in the early 1990s at the European clinic I worked at with regards to all un-necessary personell since the game was televised VERY late at night on AFN)).
But the Superbowl is the epitome of America. Baseball really can't compete with the "general public" though George Carlin was right about it. Baseball's spectacles just aren't the same since the death of Bill Veeck. The World Series is 7 games and it's not do or die. The All-Star Game (in baseball as in all sports) is a series of spectacles and some applause for who was announced with no Pete Rose / Ray Fosse moment since it's all about being owned by the team and to play one's heart out in a game that doesn't count towards the standings... anathema! Well, at least it is for modern players.
Back in the day, athletes could be great and play 2 sports. Danny Ainge was a Blue Jay, but he chose the Celtics instead, which was a good choice because the Celtics were dominant in the Larry Bird era. Bo Jackson bled his heart out on two fields and made Buck O' Neil salivate over the sound of his bat (unfortunately, I never heard this because I was young and in England and totally un-concerned with the sports whose trading cards I grew up with).
Jim Thorpe who became the new namesake for the town of Mauch Chunk (the best place to spend a weekend in eastern PA HANDS DOWN as it offers fine dining, cultural entertainment, river adventure, waterfalls, ghosts, and antiques all in one cozy 19th century Swiss styled town) was also a 2-sport athlete after getting hosed out of his gold medals in the 1912 Olympics because he played baseball. Nevertheless, this half Native American went on to be gushed over by the Associated Press as the greatest male athlete of the first part of the 20th century (1950) in much the same way King Gustav drooled over him way back when he was still getting ready to dominate in the Olympics. ABC did them all one better by declaring him the greatest athlete of the 20th century.
Johnny Come Latelies aside, the rectifying of his gold medals in 1982 restored the memory of this great athlete to where it should have always been.
However, more people remember 2-sport athletes like Deion Sanders and his flashy personality than do Jim Thorpe, which is a shame as it shows our tunnel vision for the now instead of the past. It's kind of like looking at the Black Eyed Peas halftime show as an example of great music. Sure, Will I Am and Usher's "OMG" is a great pop song. So is "Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night." However, their live show... nicht so gut. Seeing Slash playing with Fergie, who is perhaps the WORST performer in the history of performances (she's not attractive, she can't sing, she can't dance - it's the trifecta of uselessness) was a sad state of mainstream music in 2011. I know that the last couple of performances were largely white rock since the Wardrobe Malfunction, but c'mon...
It's bad enough that the Superbowl didn't even try to get glitzy until they used George Burns and Mickey Rooney in 1987. In 1991, they switched it up with New Kids on the Block, and in 1993, the self-proclaimed King of Pop, who we just look at as a permanent scumbag, but alas, I digress... and half time shows were now even more important than the game (just not the commericals that now cost around $3million for 30 seconds). But one again, c'mon. Can we not do better than Fergie? Can Will I Am not kick her to curb once and for all?
One can only hope (not that baseball's choice of musicians to raise the roof is that great since they used Counting Crows who despite having one of the greatest CDs ever (August and Everything After) were 12 years removed from being good, and even then, they weren't in their element, which is whiney introspective pop.
But yes... here's to the joy of the Superbowl- even if it's a spectacle where we get sucked into rooting for Thug Ben because we draw a $25 chance to win if the Steelers win (and we end up hating him EVEN more).
And here's to minor league baseball - because it's still baseball - the greatest sport in the world.