Showing posts with label negro leagues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label negro leagues. Show all posts

2/8/08

A Game at War: Part IV

The major sentiment amongst blacks during World War Two was, "if they were good enough to fight in the war for the United States, they were good enough to play baseball for the United States." What would be better than a black athlete beating Hitler’s “Machine” as Jesse Owens did during the Berlin Olympics? Blacks figured that the war would be a stepping stone into major league baseball. Blacks were willing to flock to the industrial cities in the north to continue to run manufacturing plants that aided the war effort.

Since many players either were off fighting the Evil Axis or were injured during combat, there would be a need to fill out the rosters in the major leagues. According to Benjamin Rader, “Blacks hoped that the manifest shortage of good big league players resulting from the war might provide them with opportunities to break the color ban. ‘How do you think I felt when I saw a one-armed [white big league] outfielder?’ exclaimed star black pitcher Chet Brewer.” (Rader; 164). Blacks often picketed outside of stadiums and carried signs that read “I can play in Mexico, but I have to fight in America where I can’t play!” or “If we are able to stop bullets, why not balls?” (Rader;164).

There were various attempts to force teams into filling their rosters with black ballplayers. On April 6, 1945 just six days before President Roosevelt died, “People’s Voice sportswriter Joe Bostic infuriated Branch Rickey by appearing at the Brooklyn Dodgers’ training camp with two black players in tow, for whom he demanded a tryout.” (Rader; 165). Apparently Rickey (who would eventually sign Jackie Robinson to the Dodgers, the first African American ballplayer) had no intention of considering the two player, but put them through infield and batting drills. The players were released shortly afterwards, but it was a small step for blacks.

After being approached by a city councilman, the Red Sox agreed to offer a tryout to Sam Jethro (Negro League batting champ in 1944), Marvin Williams, and Jackie Robinson. Unfortunately for the players, the Red Sox never contacted them after the tryouts. As long as Judge Landis was the commissioner of baseball, the unwritten rule concerning the color ban of baseball was to be kept intact. Despite continuous attempts to break into the league, blacks were rejected and Landis continued to deny the fact that there was a color ban. This eventually would change with Landis’ passing.

The next commissioner of baseball was a former governor of Kentucky; A.B. “Happy” Chandler. Chandler was quoted as saying, “If a black boy can make it in Okinawa and Guadicanal, hell, he can make it in baseball.” (Rader;165). This was good news for African Americans who wanted to break into the big leagues. The color barrier would not be broken by Jackie Robinson until three years after the war ended. Despite this fact, blacks made significant steps to break into the big leagues during the war years.

Baseball and America both matured dramatically during World War Two. Each institution was forced to make drastic changes to keep up with the growing world. Each also had to make sacrifices, as both lost men to the war. However, baseball and America both benefited from the war; America was able to lift itself from the Depression while baseball was able to lift itself from Judge Landis’ racist practices. Throughout World War Two, baseball gave birth to heroes on and off the field. Names such as Feller, Spahn, Williams, and DiMaggio were no longer found on lineup cards, but could be heard on morning roll calls in army camps throughout the world. Women in America answered the call for labor in American factories as well as on the baseball field. The All-American Girls Professional Baseball League was intended to raise the spirits of the country. It accomplished that goal and more. Many of the women became famous for their play on the diamond and would eventually inspire movies to be made about their contributions to the war effort. African Americans improved their standings in American as well as in baseball. Although the gains were small, fighting for the country and attempting to break through baseball’s impassable color barrier were steps taken towards a better nation.

1/21/08

Baseball's Great Experiment, Jackie Robinson: Part II

Continued from Part I of 108 Red Stitches tribute to African American Ballplayers, part of a week long series honoring Dr. Marting Luther King, Jr.

After his discharge from the Army, Robinson soon found himself in a new uniform; the uniform of the Kansas City Monarchs, a baseball team in the Negro League. At the time Robinson began playing for the Monarchs, the Negro League had just suffered a setback in attempts to break down the color barrier in baseball. Major League baseball was looking for excuses to keep black players out of the league and eventually struck gold in the form of the black press. In his novel Baseball’s Great Experiment, Jules Tygiel discusses the actions of a prominent member of the black press, Sam Lacy.

“Lacy and other black writers frequently criticized the absence
of fundamentals in the Negro Leagues. Some black athletes
excelled in hitting or fielding or base running, Lacy contended,
but few demonstrated the all-around talent necessary for
success in the majors” (Tygiel; 84).

In attempts to jump start or motivate the players in the Negro Leagues, Lacy wrote “I am reluctant to say that we haven’t a single man in the ranks of colored baseball who could step into the major league uniform and disport himself after the fashion of a big leaguer” (Tygiel; 84). This comment gave the authorities of “white baseball” something to build off of. If their own press didn’t believe that blacks could play in the majors, why should we give them a chance to prove themselves?
Robinson would continue to play for the Monarchs as the racially driven debate continued. Robinson wasn’t the best player in the Negro Leagues, so it was a surprise to him when the general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers approached him with an offer to play for his franchise. In an essay written by Peter Dreier titled “Jackie Robinson’s Legacy; Baseball, Race and Politics” the topic of “baseball’s great experiment” is discussed. Dreier writes;

“He (Branch Rickey) knew that if the Robinson ‘experiment’
failed, the cause of baseball integration would be set back for
many years thereafter. He could have chosen other Negro
League players greater talent or name recognition, but he
wanted someone who could be what today we call a ‘role-model’.
Robinson was articulate and well educated. Although born in the
segregated Deep South, he lived among whites in his Pasadena
neighborhood, at school, and in college, and he played on
integrated sports teams.” (44).

Branch Rickey invited members of the press to attend the signing of Robinson to a major league contract. Once the press realized why they had been invited, the room fell eerily quiet. The writers realized this was the beginning of a new era in baseball, and frankly, they did not know how to handle the situation. In a sign of the times Al Parsley, of the Montreal Herald, wrote in his article of Robinson “His color is the hue of ebony. By no means can he be called a brown bomber or a chocolate soldier” (Tygiel; 72). This was a chance for the members of the press to introduce a new ballplayer to the world, but all they could concentrate on was the color of his skin.
Members of the white press began to doubt Rickey’s selection of Robinson to break the barrier. Will Connally, a sportswriter from San Francisco, spearheaded that belief. Connally considered one of Robinson’s U.C.L.A. teammates, Kenny Washington, to be a better pioneer. Connally wrote “Kenny is a ‘white man’, a nice guy. [He] quoted Californians as saying, “Robinson, he’s a troublemaker” (Tygiel; 75-6).
The black press (or members within the black press) treated this situation far more differently than the white press did. Jules Tygiel writes “black newspapers placed the Robinson story on the front page, hailed the breakthrough in their editorials, and devoted a substantial proportion of their papers to the event” (Tygiel; 78-9). Robinson was quickly elevated to the same platform that held the likes of Joe Louis and Branch Rickey quickly became popular in many black communities.
Once Robinson signed on with the Dodgers, he was assigned to their farm team located in Montreal. The Dodgers hoped this would give him some shelter from the American media that would eventually try to break him. A year before Robinson would make his debut with the Dodgers, New York Times columnist Roscoe McGowen wrote in one of his articles “A bit of tradition was shattered today when Negroes were seated throughout the stands. Heretofore they have sat only in the small bleachers back of first base reserved for them. Possibly the Jackie Robinson influence...” (McGowen). In his essay “The Greatest Season, From Jackie Robinson to Sammy Sosa”, Roger Kahn writes about the task Robinson was about to undertake;

“With precious little help from the press, the umpires, and the
other ball players, Jackie Robinson integrated major league
baseball in 1947. [...] The policy of segregation that began in
1885 was unofficial and absolute. No documents attest to
baseball’s apartheid. There was simply an understanding among
every major league club owner and every minor league club owner
for more than sixty years that no blacks could play in so-called
organized ball.” (Kahn; 38).

Robinson’s entry into the league caused quite a stir amongst baseball officials. An article ran in the New York Times with different officials perspectives on Branch Rickey’s newest signing. Frank Shaughnessy, the president of the International League (where Robinson would play in the minors) confirmed what Kahn had written in his article on race relations in baseball;

“There’s no rule in baseball that says a Negro can’t play with a
club in organized ball. As long as any fellow’s the right type and
can make good and can get along with other players, he can play
ball” (Club Heads Give Views; 17).

Clark Griffith, the President of the Senators believed that baseball had no right “stealing” players from the Negro Leagues when he stated “The only question that occurs to me is whether organized ball has the right to sign a player from the Negro League. That is a well-established league and organized baseball shouldn’t take their players. The Negro league is entitled to full recognition as a full-fledged baseball organization” (Club Heads Give Views; 17). In short, Griffith was stating that blacks should stay where they belong, in the Negro Leagues. Horace Stoneham’s response to the signing of Robinson wasn’t much brighter; “the primary responsibility we have is finding places for our returning Service men, numbering into the hundreds, and only if they prove incapable will new players (blacks) be placed on our clubs.” (Club Heads Give Views; 17).

To be continued.

1/20/08

Baseball's Great Experiment: Jackie Robinson, Part I

In honor of Martin Luther King Day, the staff here at 108 Red Stitches decided honor King's Legacy by writing about African American Pioneers in the game of baseball. First up, is "Hall of Famer" Jackie Robinson. Robinson is most famous for breaking baseball's color barrier while playing for the Dodgers. Often overlooked is the way the media and others treated him at the time. Here is the first installment of "Baseball's Great Experiment; Jackie Robinson".

The Constitution says that “all men are created equal”. African Americans served with honor throughout World War One and World War Two. In the North, many African Americans were beginning to realize the dreams their ancestors laid out before them. America, during the middle of the 1940’s and the early 1950’s was undergoing a period of change. Change (although slow at first) effected everything except for the heart of America; baseball. Baseball has been given the title “America’s Pastime”, and up until the end of the second World War, baseball had refused to break down the color barrier that had clouded the game. All that would change with the help of “the founder of the farm system” and a no-name from the Negro Leagues.

In the film “Field of Dreams” Terrance Mann (played by James Earl Jones) says;

“The one constant through all the years has been baseball.
America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been
erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball
has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good, and what could be again.”(baseball-almanac.com)


There has never been a greater quote used to describe baseball, and never has their been a quote like this that so accurately depicts what Branch Rickey and Jackie Robinson were trying to accomplish during the Summer of 1947; erase America’s blackboard and rebuild it.

Born Jack Roosevelt Robinson on January 31, 1919, the son of a farmer from Cairo, Georgia would soon face one of life's many hardships that would shadow his life. His father, Jerry Robinson, (owner of a small farm) eventually grew weary of the monotonous motion of his life, and ran away to Florida with another woman. Jackie’s mother decided that Cairo was no place to raise her family, so they moved to Pasadena, California. In his book, Jackie Robinson, A Life Remembered, Maury Allen interviewed Mack Robinson, one of Jackie’s older brothers. Mac said “What my mother didn’t know, when she brought us here, what none of us knew, was that Pasadena was as prejudiced as any town in the South. They let us in alright, but they wouldn’t let us live” (Allen; 19).

Robinson would eventually attend UCLA because of the college’s proximity to his mother. There, Robinson excelled in football, basketball, and most importantly baseball. It was after his college days that Jackie Robinson began to show a glimpse of what was to come.

Just before being deployed oversees to fight in World War Two, Robinson engaged in a dispute that almost ended his military career in disgrace. Robinson got on a bus at Camp Hood (his military base located in Texas) to go to a hospital in Temple. Robinson decided to sit in one of the seats located in the middle of the bus and, eventually, an argument between Milton Renegar (the driver) and Robinson ensued. Renegar commanded Robinson to move to the back and threatened to cause trouble with his officers once they reached the hospital. Robinson refused. “Robinson had obeyed Texas law requiring Jim Crow seating on the bus. But he also knew that the Army now forbade segregation on its military bases” (Rampersad; 102). Things began to spiral out of control, and soon enough, Robinson found himself in front of a court martial panel. In one of Robinson’s biographies, Arnold Rampersad writes about the trail:

“Clearly, almost all of the whites involved were genuinely
mystified that Robinson disliked being badly treated. The white
private, Ben Mucklerath, denied that he had called Robinson a
nigger, as Robinson charged; but Corporal Elwood, the first MP
on the scene, testified the Mucklerath ‘came over to the pickup
and asked me if I got that nigger Lieutenant. Right then the
Lieutenant said, ‘ Look here, you s son-of-a-bitch, don’t you call
me no nigger’. (Rampersad; 107)

Robinson’s testimony to those hearing the court martial open a portal that reveals the strength and intestinal fortitude that he latter called upon when dealing with the media during his baseball career. Robinson took the stand, on his own free will, and delivered a speech that would effect the outcome of his trial;

“ To the question ‘Do you know what a nigger is?’ Robinson
replied: “I looked it up once, but my grandmother gave me a good
definition, she was a slave, and she said the definition of the word
was a low, uncouth person, and pertains to no one in particular; but I
don’t consider that I am low and uncouth. I looked it up in the
dictionary afterwards and it says the word nigger pertains to the
negroid or negro, but it is also a machine used in a saw mill for pushing
logs into the saws. I objected to being called a nigger by this private
or by anybody else. When I made this statement that I did not like
to be called a nigger, I told the Captain, I said, ‘If you call me a nigger,
I might have to say the same thing to you...I don't not consider
myself a nigger at all,I am a negro, but not a nigger.’ (Rampersad; 108).

Robinson was soon after acquitted of all charges against him, but the trail lasted long enough where Robinson wasn’t able to meet up with the rest of his battalion, who had just left for Omaha Beach. “On November 28, 1944, Robinson was ‘honorably relieved from active duty’ in the U.S. Army ‘by reason of physical disqualification’ (Rampersad; 111).

After his discharge, Robinson soon found himself in a new uniform.

To be continued.