For those of us in the church of baseball, April 15, 1947 is Easter. For on that day, the ground shook, the dark skies rumbled, and Jackie Robinson took first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers.
There is no finer day in the human experiment. The breaking of the color line in baseball broke generations of intolerance. It wasn’t a total victory. There is no such thing, especially in baseball.
But it began an inevitable march to the good. It’s goddamn ridiculous to think anyone would be unable to play this sensational game because of the color of their skin. This game drives everyone crazy. No exceptions.
Robinson was in an intense and heavy situation in 1947. He made a deal with Dodgers president Branch Rickey that he wouldn’t answer taunts from other players or fans for three seasons. He spent 1946 in the minors with Montreal so this was year two.
Robinson made that deal in his first meeting with Rickey. It was a meeting Rickey had been waiting years for.
The first thing Rickey asked Robinson was, “Have you got a girl?”
Jackie Robinson did and still does. Never forget to give Rachel Robinson her flowers on April 15. Jackie’s play on the field was made possible because of the love he shared with Rachel off the field.
Every day that man had to keep it in: the anger, the intolerance, the HATE. There’s no way one man could stand it all without the support of a partner.
This wasn’t a throwaway question by Rickey to start the meeting. Rickey had been scouting black players for years looking for the right one at the right time. He knew about Rachel Robinson. He wanted to hear Jackie tell him about her. He had to know the rock of their foundation was real.
In 1947, Jackie won rookie of the year, his team won the National League and went seven games into the world series before losing. This rock was real alright.
Too often fans forget that the people on the field are real. They shout, post, and yell onto the internet.
They want players benched, demoted, or DFA’d which is just a nice way of saying you want someone fired. Who the hell WANTS to fire people! You’re allowed to love your team but chill the fuck out.
These are just folks doing a job. Nothing wrong with that. Some drive buses, some are teachers, and some play ball. No one gave them the ability to be perfect about it. Only the ability to play.
Players are just men. I’m fine with that. I have no need for gods on earth. Just play ball.
Which brings us back to the Robinsons. All they wanted to do was make a living. Jackie, a four-star athlete at UCLA, was fond of baseball. Rachel had a bachelor’s degree in nursing from the same school. Good to go, right? Not so simple.
There were written and verbal threats. Jackie heard them from the field and Rachel from the stands. There were insults. They heard those too.
What it must have been like to be two young and accomplished people and have to listen to some shithead call you the n-word. How do you stay composed when that happens?
You stay composed because at the end of the day you know you have each other. Yeah, it’s corny but it’s true.
Love is a brutal, tough business. Not for the weak. And it shouldn’t be. It’s the thing that matters the most.
I don’t know what I’d do without Toots calling me handsome all the time. I mean, I know everyone is thinking it, but she actually says it!
But more than that, she does what every great partner does, she listens. And then she makes me better. Cause she’s an absolute badass.
So on this holiest of holy days, when you see the 42s all over the field and think about the man, take some time and think about the woman.
No one man matters more to the game of baseball than Jackie Robinson. And no woman matters more than Rachel.
Give your thanks to both.
Amen Brother!!