This column, by Chicago Defender sports writer A.S. “Doc” Young, first appeared in the Aug. 4, 1962, issue of The Sporting News, after Jackie Robinson had broken another color barrier, becoming the first Black player inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame on July 23, having been elected on the first ballot. “Today everything is complete,” Robinson said in his speech in Cooperstown, N.Y., according to TSN’s coverage. “I could not be here without the advice and guidance of three of the most wonderful people I know — my adviser, a wonderful friend and a man who has treated me as a father, Branch Rickey; my mother (Mrs. Mallie Robinson); and my wife (Rachel Robinson). I never thought I’d make it in my lifetime, especially the first time around.”
By A. S. (DOC) YOUNG
CHICAGO, III. — I am convinced that you have to be a Negro to understand fully, completely, what Jackie Robinson's Branch Rickey-engineered entry into Organized Ball has meant to the Negro race from 1945 to 1962
It is easy to calculate what Robinson's barrier-breaking advent and career has meant to Negro players who today are prominent throughout baseball.
All you have to do is take an adding machine, total up all the numerous Negroes now playing from the 20 major league clubs to the lowliest minors, then guess where they'd be if Rickey hadn't brought Robinson into the game via a highly-publicized contractual signing with the farm club Montreal Royals, at Montreal, on October 23, 1945.
Or … you can add up the salaries of the top ten Negro major leaguers of 1962 — which totals more than half-million dollars — and you have no difficulty figuring the financial advantages the Willie Mayses, Hank Aarons, Ernie Bankses, et al., hold over the Josh Gibsons, Oscar Charlestons and Smokey Joe Williamses of earlier days.
Jackie Symbol to Negro Fans
But the advent of Jackie Robinson, who now has been formally inducted as the first Negro member of the Hall of Fame at Cooperstown, goes much deeper than that ... with Negro fans, with Negroes of all classes, conditions and creeds.
For 19.3 million American Negroes, Jackie Robinson is a symbol.
He symbolizes their constant campaign for full-fledged, first-class relationship, their dreams of becoming more American than they were when he entered these higher echelons of baseball, than they are even today.
Jackie Robinson's playing career with the Brooklyn Dodgers ended in 1956, but he remains ... that all-important racial symbol. And, perhaps fittingly, he's still a vociferous man, a tough-minded, wanna-win guy, who battles just as hard on the civil rights front as he ever did on the diamond for the Dodgers, and he never back-tracked on either of them.
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As a Negro newspaper sports writer, I was privileged to be around when Jackie came into the major leagues. Personally, I felt the natural and normal racial elation.
I also felt that, at last, I was justified in my life-long love of the game, that I hadn't been stocking baseball lore — including detailed memorization of Georgia Ty Cobb's minutest records — into my head since age six for nothing. There had been a time, during my college days, when I suddenly began thinking seriously of America's racial situation and I said to myself, “Baseball is lily-white; Negroes have no chance to play; you're wasting your time, Doc, following this game and applauding Ted Williams."
Idolized Ted Williams
Ted Williams was then — before Jackie Robinson — my favorite player.
But, when I began maturing on the racial thing, I had to put Ted Williams down and pass him up as my hero.
I left him down until Jackie came to make baseball worthwhile to me, a Negro, again. Then I gladly brought Ted back, to stay. He, Ted, was the greatest hitter I ever saw.
I imagine it was this way for many Negro baseball fans. For Negroes have always loved baseball. They started playing the game shortly after slavery ended, if not before.
TSN ARCHIVES: If not for Jackie …
Bud Fowler, a fine infielder, is known to have played with the otherwise all-white Newcastle, Pa., team in 1872. Negroes began playing major league ball of that era in 1884 and remained four years, after which they were ejected by the bigots.
But for all of my personal feelings, I didn't really begin to understand what Jackie Robinson meant to Negroes until:
—I saw thousands of Negroes literally break down the Jim Crow section barriers and overflow among the whites to watch him play exhibition games in the South, cheering like mere mortals on seeing their classical hero close up.
—I saw one of every five of Cleveland's Negro population turn out for a 1948 charity exhibition game between the Dodgers and Indians, with Jackie Robinson the big attraction.
—I attended a sports banquet in Los Angeles and heard a conservative-minded accountant let his hair down and speak in glowing terms about this player.
"100 Per Cent Wrong Club”
This association of sports fans called itself the 100 Per Cent Wrong Club of Southern California. This was a gimmicked club-title which guaranteed lots of "ink" in the papers but, actually, the mostly Negro club accomplished many good things. On this night, the club was honoring outstanding athletes and coaches of all color.
As I recall, Jackie Robinson was present and L.I. (Brock) Brockenbury, a huge man whose vocation was accounting, whose avocation was sports, was delegated to introduce Jackie.
TSN ARCHIVES: Jackie Robinson makes his debut with the Dodgers (April 23, 1947, issue)
It was a light-hearted evening, plenty of jokes and non-malicious needles. Nobody knew what Brock was going to say.
But Brock made a dead-serious introductory speech in which he ranked Jackie with the biblical heroes.
Until that time, I had prided myself on being Jackie Robinson's No. 1 fan. After Brock finished, I realized that he was not kidding, and I quietly accepted my position as a runner-up.
What Jackie Means
Not all Negroes wax as eloquent over Jackie Robinson as Brock did, but this is what Jackie meant to most Negroes.
TSN Originals: How The Sporting News covered Jackie Robinson's first spring training
He was further proof that Negroes had a "chance" in America.
He was proof that the word “democracy” meant more than a politician's calculated spiel.
He was hope for the downtrodden.
He was justification of faith for the believers.
He was the opening door to better days, all around, in every phase of Negro life.
He was the opening door ...
Swinging!
Sidebar: Virginia Writer Foresaw Hero Role for Robinson
CHICAGO, Ill. — When Jackie Robinson's entry into Organized Ball was announced, October 23, 1945, most of the white players and executives who offered comment were either members of the opposition, or extremely cautious about it. But, surprising as it seemed, the most accurate appraisal was made by a Southern white sports writer — W.N. Cox of the Norfolk Virginian-Pilot, who said:
"I guarantee that if Jackie Robinson hits homers and plays a whale of a game for Montreal, the fans will lose sight of his color.”
Sidebar: Jackie’s Success Tolled Negro Loops' Death Knell
CHICAGO, Ill. —Jackie Robinson's advent into Organized Ball sounded the death knell for all-Negro leagues. In 1948, Mrs. Effa Manley, then operator of the Newark Eagles of the Negro National League, chided Negro fans for deserting her league's games to "watch a handful of their people in the majors."
Larry Doby, a former Eagle then playing his second season for the Cleveland Indians, did not agree with Mrs. Manley. Doby said: "I think Negro fans just have become acquainted with a better brand of ball and prefer to see it. Jackie Robinson, Satchel Paige, Roy Campanella and myself — we’re just part of the picture.”
Sidebar: Jethroe Wit Made Fans Overlook Race ‘Situations'
CHICAGO, III. - There was little humor connected with Jackie Robinson's and Larry Doby's entry into Organized Ball. But, after the initial racial "situation" was overcome and the Negro players began to feel more relaxed, their natural good humor was soon in evidence. Sam Jethroe, then playing for the Boston Braves, had suffered some difficulty with his eyes and had purchased glasses. Jim McCulley, a baseball writer traveling with the New York Giants, was sitting next to Jethroe on the Boston bench when this exchange of dialogue was recorded:
JIM-How come you're wearing glasses, Sam?
SAM--Got a bum eye.
JIM-Which one?
SAM-The one I hit right-handed with.