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.

Troy Maxson

February is African American history month, and for that, one has to look at the black experience to see what baseball has been (the segregation of an entire race since Moses Fleetwood Walker), what it had to go through (the discrimination and resistance to Jackie Robinson), what it was possible that it could achieve (Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, and Bob Gibson, to name a few), and to what it is becoming (a shift to the NBA and NFL save some really great young talent like Jason Heyward, CC Sabathia, and Ryan Howard).
We have gone from the days of teams being worried about fielding an all black outfield to teams that can't field African American players (Houston's 2005 World Series team is a perfect example). And while there is color on the skin, it's from darker skinned players that hail from the countries that lie south of the American border. And while Martin Dihigo represents a somewhat similar and somewhat different experience, his Cuban heritage lacks resonance with the African American world of today.
For that, we go to the dramatic works of August Wilson to find Fences, the tale of Troy Maxson, a former Negro Leaguer who hit home runs like nobody other than Babe Ruth and Josh Gibson, but who was unable to play because of his skin color. Where Buck O' Neil felt that he was right on time, Maxson is spiteful for coming along way too early. He has gone so far as to push his son Cody out of a football scholarship so that sports can never do to him what they did to Troy, and for that and many other misguided things that he did, he's a larger than life idiot. He cheats on his wife and knocks up his mistress, who later dies in childbirth, leaving Troy's 2nd wife Rose to care for the baby and live in a loveless marriage. He fights for the right to drive a garbage truck despite not having a license and figures that nothing will ever become of it because it's so easy.
And for this, it's impossible to like him as a person. I felt the same way about Satchel Paige after reading the tales of his womanizing. The man could pitch like a machine, but I don't have to like the man off the field (in fact, his kids came to hate him as well). But alas, such is the biography that Mark Ribowsky wrote and that I came to sluggishly move my way through (Don't Look Back).
But with the August Wilson experience, the pain is all eventually gone and the mother makes the son go to the funeral, thus paying his last respects to his father and hopefully burying him instead of carrying him on his back forever.
And for that, perhaps there is meaning, but I can't say that it moved me the way that I hoped it would save a few lines such as:
She asked me when I met her if I had gotten all that foolishness out of my system. And I told her "Baby, it's you and baseball all what count with me." You hear me, Bono? I meant it too. She say, "Which one comes first?" I told her, "Baby, ain't no doubt it's baseball... but you stick and get old with me and we'll both outlive this baseball."
And with that, I think of my wife and how she "puts up with" my baseball infatuation and how lucky I am to have her, and it makes me realize that there are good things in life and they're more than just a game, but the game is nice.
I think about what it means to be a hero or a role model and I realize that if we don't have the ability to care for other people and treat them well, then we might be a good enterainer, but we're not much else.
It's just a shame that so many people, historically in reality and in fiction, can't do the same. Perhaps, it's time to focus more on the real than on the fake and get in the real game.