$Unique_ID{BAS00167}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{Black Ball}
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$Author{
Tygiel, Jules}
$Subject{Black Blacks Negro Leagues Robinson Pythians}
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Aaron, Hank (with audio:  Aaron's 715th home run)*0003501.scf,44000020.aud}

Total Baseball:  Other Leagues


Black Ball

Jules Tygiel


     In 1987, Major League Baseball, amidst much fanfare and publicity,
celebrated the 40th anniversary of the finest moment in the history of the
national pastime--Jackie Robinson's heroic shattering of the color barrier.
But baseball might also have commemorated the centennial of a related, but far
less auspicious event--the banishment of blacks from the International League
in 1887 which ushered in six disgraceful decades of Jim Crow baseball. During
this era, some of America's greatest ballplayers plied their trade on
all-black teams, in Negro Leagues, on the playing fields of Latin America, and
along the barnstorming frontier of the cities and towns of the United States,
but never within the major and minor league realm of "organized baseball."
When slowly and grudgingly given their chance in the years after 1947, blacks
conclusively proved their competitive abilities on the diamond, but
discrimination persisted as baseball executives continued to deny them the
opportunity to display their talents in managerial and front office positions.
     Scattered evidence exists of blacks playing baseball in the antebellum
period, but the first recorded black teams surfaced in Northern cities in the
aftermath of the Civil War. In October 1867, the Uniques of Brooklyn hosted
the Excelsiors of Philadelphia in a contest billed as the "championship of
colored clubs."  Before a large crowd of black and white spectators, the
Excelsiors marched around the field behind a fife and drum corps before
defeating the Uniques, 37-24. Two months later, a second Philadelphia squad,
the Pythians, dispatched a representative to the inaugural meetings of the
National Association of Base Ball Players, the first organized league. The
nominating committee unanimously rejected the Pythian's application, barring
"any club which may be composed of one or more colored persons."  Using the
impeccable logic of a racist society, the committee proclaimed, "If colored
clubs were admitted there would be in all probability some division of
feeling, whereas, by excluding them no injury could result to anyone."  The
Philadelphia Pythians, however, continued their quest for interracial
competition. In 1869, they became the first black team to face an all-white
squad, defeating the crosstown City Items, 27-17.
     In 1876, athletic entrepreneurs in the nation's metropolitan centers
established the National League which quickly came to represent the pinnacle
of the sport. The new entity had no written policy regarding blacks, but
precluded them nonetheless through a "gentleman's agreement" among the owners.
In the smaller cities and towns of America, however, where under-funded teams
and fragile minor league coalitions quickly appeared and faded, individual
blacks found scattered opportunities to pursue baseball careers. During the
next decade, at least two dozen black ballplayers sought to earn a living in
this erratic professional baseball world.
     Bud Fowler ranked among the best and most persistent of these
trailblazers. Born John Jackson in upstate New York in 1858 and raised,
ironically, in Cooperstown, Fowler first achieved recognition as a 20-year-old
pitcher for a local team in Chelsea, Massachusetts. In April 1878, Fowler
defeated the National League's Boston club, which included future Hall of
Famers George Wright and Jim O' Rourke, 2-1, in an exhibition game, besting
40-game winner Tommy Bond. Later that season, Fowler hurled three games for
the Lynn Live Oaks of the International Association, the nation's first minor
league, and another for Worcester in the New England League. For the next six
years, he toiled for a variety of independent and semi-professional teams in
the United States and Canada. Despite a reputation as "one of the best
pitchers on the continent", he failed to catch on with any major or minor
league squads. In 1884, now appearing regularly as a second baseman, as well
as a pitcher, Fowler joined Stillwater, Minnesota, in the Northwestern League.
Over the next seven seasons, Fowler played for fourteen teams in nine leagues,
seldom batting less than .300 for a season. In 1886, he led the Western
League in triples. "He is one of the best general players in the country,"
reported Sporting Life in 1885, "and if he had a white face he would be
playing with the best of them. . . Those who know, say there is no better
second baseman in the country."
     In 1886, however, a better second baseman did appear in the form of Frank
Grant, perhaps the greatest black player of the nineteenth century. The
light-skinned Grant, described as a "Spaniard" in the Buffalo Express, batted
.325 for Meridien in the Eastern League. When that squad folded he joined
Buffalo in the prestigious International Association and improved his average
to .340, third best in the league.
     Although not as talented as Fowler and Grant, barehand-catcher Moses
Fleetwood Walker achieved the highest level of play of blacks of this era.
The son of an Ohio physician, Fleet Walker had studied at Oberlin College,
where in 1881 he and his younger brother Welday helped launch a varsity
baseball team. For the next two years, the elder Walker played for the
University of Michigan and in 1883 he appeared in 60 games for the
pennant-winning Toledo squad in the Northwestern League. In 1884, Toledo
entered the American Association, the National League's primary rival, and
Walker became the first black major leaguer. In an age when many catchers
caught barehanded and lacked chest protectors, Walker suffered frequent
injuries and played little after a foul tip broke his rib in mid-July.
Nonetheless, he batted .263 and pitcher Tony Mullane later called him "the
best catcher I ever worked with."  In July, Toledo briefly signed Walker's
brother, Welday, who appeared in six games batting .182. The following year,
Toledo dropped from the league, ending the Walkers' major league careers.
     These early black players found limited acceptance among teammates, fans,
and opponents. In Ontario, in 1881, Fowler's teammates forced him off the
club. Walker found that Mullane and other pitchers preferred not to pitch to
him. Although he acknowledged Walker's skills, Mullane confessed, "I disliked
a Negro and whenever I had to pitch to him I used anything I wanted without
looking at his signals."  At Louisville in 1884, insults from Kentucky fans so
rattled Walker that he made five errors in a game. In Richmond, after Walker
had actually left the team due to injuries, the Toledo manager received a
letter from "75 determined men" threatening "to mob Walker" and cause "much
bloodshed" if the black catcher appeared. On August 10, 1883, Chicago White
Stockings star and manager Cap Anson had threatened to cancel an exhibition
game with Toledo if Walker played. The injured catcher had not been slated to
start, but Toledo manager Charlie Morton defied Anson and inserted Walker into
the lineup. The game proceeded without incident.
     In 1887, Walker, Fowler, Grant, Higgins, Stovey, and three other blacks
converged on the International League, a newly reorganized circuit in Canada
and upstate New York, one notch below the major league level. At the same
time, a new six-team entity, the League of Colored Baseball Clubs, won
recognition under baseball's National Agreement, a mutual pact to honor player
contracts among team owners. Thus, an air of optimism pervaded the start of
the season. But 1887 would prove a fateful year for the future of blacks in
baseball.
     On May 6, the Colored League made its debut in Pittsburgh with "a grand
street parade and a brass band concert."  Twelve hundred spectators watched
the hometown Keystones lose to the Gorhams of New York, 11-8. Within days,
however, the new league began to flounder. The Boston franchise disbanded in
Louisville on May 8, stranding its players in the Southern city. Three weeks
later, league-founder Walter Brown formally announced the demise of the infant
circuit.
     Meanwhile, in the International League, black players found their numbers
growing, but their status increasingly uncertain. Six of the 10 teams fielded
blacks, prompting Sporting Life to wonder, "How far will this mania for
engaging colored players go?"  In Newark, fans marveled at the "colored
battery" of Fleet Walker, dubbed the "coon catcher" by one Canadian newspaper,
and "headstrong" pitcher George Stovey. Stovey, one of the greatest black
pitchers of the nineteenth century, won 35 games, still an International
League record. Frank Grant, in his second season as the Buffalo second
baseman, led the league in both batting average and home runs. Bud Fowler,
one of two blacks on the Binghamton squad, compiled a .350 average through
early July and stole 23 bases.
     These athletes compiled their impressive statistics under the most
adverse conditions. "I could not help pitying some of the poor black fellows
that played in the International League," reported a white player. "Fowler
used to play second base with the lower part of his legs encased in wooden
guards. He knew that about every player that came down to second base on a
steal had it in for him."  Both Fowler and Grant, "would muff balls
intentionally, so that [they] would not have to touch runners, fearing that
they might injure [them]."  In addition, "About half the pitchers try their
best to hit these colored players when [they are] at bat."  Grant, whose
Buffalo teammates had refused to sit with him for a team portrait in 1886,
reportedly saved himself from a "drubbing" at their hands in 1887, only by
"the effective use of a club."  In Toronto, fans chanted, "Kill the Nigger,"
at Grant, and a local newspaper headline declared, "THE COLORED PLAYERS
DISTASTEFUL."  In late June, Bud Fowler's Binghamton teammates refused to take
the field unless the club removed him from the lineup. Soon after, on July 7,
the Binghamton club submitted to these demands, releasing Fowler and a black
teammate, a pitcher named Renfroe.
     The most dramatic confrontations between black and white players occurred
on the Syracuse squad, where a clique of refugees from the Southern League
exacerbated racial tensions. In spring training, the club included a catcher
named Dick Male, who, rumors had it, was a light-skinned black named Richard
Johnson. Male charged "that the man calling him a Negro is himself a black
liar," but when released after a poor preseason performance, he returned to
his old club, Zanesville in the Ohio State League, and resumed his true
identity as Richard Johnson. In May, Syracuse signed 19-year-old black
pitcher Robert Higgins, angering the Southern clique. On May 25, Higgins
appeared in his first International League game in Toronto. "THE SYRACUSE
PLOTTERS", as a Sporting News headline called his teammates, undermined his
debut. According to one account, they "seemed to want the Toronto team to
knock Higgins out of the box, and time and again they fielded so badly that
the home team were enabled to secure many hits after the side had been
retired."  "A disgusting exhibition", admonished The Toronto World. "They
succeeded in running Male out of the club", reported a Newark paper, "and they
will do the same with Higgins."  One week later, two Syracuse players refused
to pose for a team picture with Higgins. When manager "Ice Water" Joe Simmons
suspended pitcher Doug Crothers for this incident, Crothers slugged the
manager. Higgins miraculously recovered from his early travails and lack of
support to post a 20-7 record.
     On July 14, as the directors of the International League discussed the
racial situation in Buffalo, the Newark Little Giants planned to send Stovey,
their ace, to the mound in an exhibition game against the National League
Chicago White Stockings. Once again manager Anson refused to field his squad
if either Stovey or Walker appeared. Unlike 1883, Anson's will prevailed. On
the same day, team owners, stating that "Many of the best players in the
league are anxious to leave on account of the colored element", allowed
current black players to remain, but voted by a six-to-four margin to reject
all future contracts with blacks. The teams with black players all voted
against the measure, but Binghamton, which had just released Fowler and
Renfroe, swung the vote in favor of exclusion.
     Events in 1887 continued to conspire against black players. On September
11, the St. Louis Browns of the American Association refused to play a
scheduled contest against the all-black Cuban Giants. "We are only doing what
is right," they proclaimed. In November, the Buffalo and Syracuse teams
unsuccessfully attempted to lift the International League ban on blacks. The
Ohio State League, which had fielded three black players, also adopted a rule
barring additional contracts with blacks, prompting Welday Walker, who had
appeared in the league, to protest, "The law is a disgrace to the present
age. . . There should be some broader cause--such as lack of ability, behavior
and intelligence--for barring a player, rather than his color."
     After 1887, only a handful of blacks appeared on integrated squads.
Grant and Higgins returned to their original teams in 1888. Walker jumped
from Newark to Syracuse. The following year, only Walker remained for one
final season, the last black in the International League until 1946. Richard
Johnson, the erstwhile Dick Male, reappeared in the Ohio State League in 1888
and in 1889 joined Springfield in the Central Interstate League, where he hit
14 triples, stole 45 bases, and scored 100 runs in 100 games. In 1890,
Harrisburg in the Eastern Interstate League fielded two blacks, while
Jamestown in the New York Penn League featured another. Bud Fowler and
several other black players appeared in the Nebraska State League in 1892.
Three years later, Adrian in the Michigan State League signed five blacks,
including Fowler and pitcher George Wilson who posted a 29-4 record.
Meanwhile Sol White, who later chronicled these events in his 1906 book, The
History of Colored Baseball, played for Fort Wayne in the Western State
League. In 1896, pitcher-outfielder Bert Jones joined Atchison in the Kansas
State League where he played for three seasons before being forced out in
1898. Almost 50 years would pass before another black would appear on an
interracial club in organized baseball.
     While integrated teams grew rare, several leagues allowed entry to all
black squads. In 1889, the Middle States League included the New York Gorhams
and the Cuban Giants, the most famous black team of the age. The Giants
posted a 55-17 record. In 1890, the alliance reorganized as the Eastern
Interstate League and again included the Cuban Giants. Giants' star George
Williams paced the circuit with a .391 batting average, while teammate Arthur
Thomas slugged 26 doubles and 10 triples, both league-leading totals. The
Eastern Interstate League folded in midseason, and in 1891 the Giants made one
final minor league appearance in the Connecticut State League. When this
circuit also disbanded, the brief entry of the Cuban Giants in organized
baseball came to an end. In 1898, a team calling itself the Acme Colored
Giants affiliated with Pennsylvania's Iron and Oil League, but won only eight
of 49 games before dropping out, marking an ignoble conclusion to these early
experiments in interracial play.
     Overall, at least 70 blacks appeared in organized baseball in the late
19th century. About half played for all-black teams, the remainder for
integrated clubs. Few lasted more than one season with the same team. By the
1890s, the pattern for black baseball that would prevail for the next half
century had emerged. Blacks were relegated to "colored" teams playing most of
their games on the barnstorming circuit, outside of any organized league
structure. While exhibition contests allowed them to pit their skills against
whites, they remained on the outskirts of baseball's mainstream, unheralded
and unknown to most Americans.
     As early as the 1880s and 1890s several all-black traveling squads had
gained national reputations. The Cuban Giants, formed among the waiters of
the Argyle Hotel to entertain guests in 1885, set the pattern and provided the
recurrent nickname for these teams. Passing as Cubans, so as not to offend
their white clientele, the Giants toured the East in a private railroad car
playing amateur and professional opponents. In the 1890s, rivals like the
Lincoln Giants from Nebraska, the Page Fence Giants from Michigan, and the
Cuban X Giants in New York emerged. From the beginning these teams combined
entertainment with their baseball to attract crowds. The Page Fence Giants,
founded by Bud Fowler in 1895, would ride through the streets on bicycles to
attract attention. In 1899, Fowler organized the All-American Black Tourists,
who would arrive in full dress suits with opera hats and silk umbrellas.
Their showmanship notwithstanding, the black teams of the 1890s included some
of the best players in the nation. The Page Fence Giants won 118 of 154 games
in 1895, with two of their losses coming against the major league Cincinnati
Reds.
     During the early years of the 20th century many blacks still harbored
hopes of regaining access to organized baseball. Sol White wrote in 1906 that
baseball, "should be taken seriously by the colored player. An honest effort
of his great ability will open the avenue in the near future wherein he may
walk hand-in-hand with the opposite race in the greatest of all American
games--baseball."  Rube Foster, the outstanding figure in black baseball from
1910-1926, stressed excellence because "we have to be ready when the time
comes for integration."
     But even clandestine efforts to bring in blacks met a harsh fate. In
1901, Baltimore Orioles Manager John McGraw attempted to pass second baseman
Charlie Grant of the Columbia Giants off as an Indian named Chief Tokohama,
until Chicago White Sox President Charles Comiskey exposed the ruse. In 1911,
the Cincinnati Reds raised black hopes by signing two light-skinned Cubans,
Armando Marsans and Rafael Almeida, prompting the New York Age to speculate,
"Now that the first shock is over it would not be surprising to see a Cuban a
few shades darker. . . breaking into the professional ranks . . . it would
then be easier for colored players who are citizens of this country to get
into fast company."  But the Reds rushed to certify that Marsans and Almeida
were "genuine Caucasians", and while light-skinned Cubans became a fixture in
the majors, their darker brethren remained unwelcome. Over the years, tales
circulated of United States blacks passing as Indians or Cubans, but no
documented cases exist.
     Although most blacks lived in the South, during the first two decades of
the 20th century, the great black teams and players congregated in the
metropolises and industrial cities of the North. Chicago emerged as the
primary center of black baseball with teams like the Leland Giants and the
Chicago American Giants. In New York, the Lincoln Giants, which boasted
pitching stars Smokey Joe Williams and Cannonball Dick Redding, shortstop John
Henry Lloyd and catcher Louis Santop, reigned supreme. Other top clubs of the
era included the Philadelphia Giants, the Hilldale Club (also of
Philadelphia), the Indianapolis ABC's and the Bacharach Giants of Atlantic
City. Player contracts were nonexistent or nonbinding and stars jumped
frequently from team to team. "Wherever the money was", recalled John Henry
Lloyd, "that's where I was."
     Fans and writers often compared the great black players of this era to
their white counterparts. Lloyd, one of the outstanding shortstops and
hitters of that or any era, came to be known as "The Black Wagner", after his
white contemporary Honus Wagner, who called it an "honor" and a "privilege" to
be compared to the gangling black infielder. A St. Louis sportswriter once
said when asked who was the best player in baseball history, "If you mean in
organized baseball, the answer would be Babe Ruth; but if you mean in all
baseball. . . the answer would have to be a colored man named John Henry
Lloyd."  Pitcher "Rube" Foster earned his nickname by outpitching future Hall
of Famer Rube Waddell, and Cuban Jose Mendez was called "The Black Matty"
after Christy Mathewson.
     The talents of Foster and Mendez notwithstanding, the greatest black
pitcher of the early twentieth century was 6'5" Smokey Joe Williams. Born in
1886, Williams spent a good part of his career pitching in his native Texas,
unheralded until he joined the Leland Giants in 1909 at the age of 24. From
1912-1923 he won renown as a strikeout artist for Harlem's Lincoln Giants.
Against major league competition Williams won six games, lost 4, and tied two,
including a three-hit 1-0 victory over the National League champion
Philadelphia Phillies in 1915. In 1925, he signed with the Homestead Grays
and although approaching his fortieth birthday, starred for seven more
seasons. A 1952 poll to name the outstanding black pitcher of the
half-century, placed Williams in first place, ahead of the legendary Satchel
Paige.
     Oscar Charleston ranks as the greatest outfielder of the 1910s and 1920s.
With tremendous speed and a strong, accurate arm, Charleston was the
quintessential centerfielder. During his 15-year career starting in 1915,
Charleston hit for both power and average and may have been the most popular
player of the 1920s. After he retired he managed the Philadelphia Stars,
Brooklyn Brown Dodgers, and other clubs.
     Several major stars of this era labored outside the usual channels of
black baseball. In 1914, white Kansas City promoter J.L. Wilkinson organized
the All-Nations team, which included whites, blacks, Indians, Asians, and
Latin Americans. Pitchers John Donaldson, Jose Mendez, and Bill Drake and
outfielder Cristobel Torriente played for the All-Nations team, described by
one observer as "strong enough to give any major league team a nip-and-tuck
battle."  A black Army team from the 25th Infantry Unit in Nogales, Arizona,
featured pitcher Bullet Joe Rogan and shortstop Dobie Moore. In 1920, when
Wilkinson formed the famed Kansas City Monarchs, the players from the
All-Nations and 25th Infantry teams formed the nucleus of his club. In 1921,
the Monarchs challenged the minor league Kansas City Blues to a tournament for
the city championship. The Blues won the series five games to three. In
1922, however, the Monarchs won five of six games to claim boasting honors in
Kansas City. One week later, they swept a doubleheader from the touring Babe
Ruth All-Stars.
     In the years after 1910, Andrew "Rube" Foster emerged as the dominant
figure in black baseball. Like many of his white contemporaries, Foster rose
through the ranks of the national pastime from star player to field manager to
club owner. Born in Texas in 1879, Foster accepted an invitation to pitch for
Chicago's Union Giants in 1902. "If you play the best clubs in the land,
white clubs as you say," he told owner Frank Leland, "it will be a case of
Greek meeting Greek. I fear nobody."  By 1903, he was hurling for the Cuban X
Giants against the Philadelphia Giants in a series billed as the "Colored
Championship of the World". His four victories in a best of nine series
clinched the title. The following year, he had switched sides and registered
two of three wins for the Philadelphia Giants in a similar matchup, striking
out 18 batters in one game and tossing a two-hitter in another. In 1907, he
rejoined the Leland Giants and, in 1910, pitched for and managed a
reconstituted team of that name to a 123-6 record.
     As a pitcher, Foster had ranked among the nation's best; as a manager,
his skills achieved legendary proportions. A master strategist and motivator,
Foster's teams specialized in the bunt, the steal, and the hit-and-run, which
came to characterize black baseball. Fans came to watch him sit on the bench
giving signs with a wave of his ever-present pipe. He became the friend and
confidant of major league managers like John McGraw. Over the years, Foster
trained a generation of black managers, like Dave Malarcher, Biz Mackey, and
Oscar Charleston in the subtleties of the game.
     In 1911, Foster entered the ownership ranks, uniting with white saloon
keeper John Schorling (the son-in-law of White Sox owner Charles Comiskey) to
form the Chicago American Giants. With Schorling's financial backing,
Foster's managerial acumen, a regular home field in Chicago, and high
salaries, the American Giants attracted the best black players in the nation.
Throughout the decade, whether barnstorming or hosting opponents in Chicago,
the American Giants came to represent the pinnacle of black baseball.
     By World War One, Foster dominated black baseball in Chicago and parts of
the Midwest. In most other areas, however, white booking agents controlled
access to stadiums, and as one newspaperman charged in 1917, "used circus
methods to drag a bunch of our best citizens out, only to undergo humiliation
. . . while [they sat] back and [grew] rich off a percentage of the proceeds."
In the East, Nat Strong, the part owner of the Brooklyn Royal Giants,
Philadelphia Giants, Cuban Stars, Cuban Giants, New York Black Yankees, and
the renowned white semi-pro team, the Bushwicks, held a stranglehold on black
competition. To break this monopoly and place the game more firmly under
black control, Foster created the National Association of Professional
Baseball Clubs, better known as the Negro National League, in 1920.
     Foster's new organization marked the third attempt of the century to meld
black teams into a viable league. In 1906, the International League of
Independent Baseball Clubs, which had four black and two white teams,
struggled through one season characterized by shifting and collapsing
franchises. Four years later, Beauregard Moseley, secretary of Chicago's
Leland Giants attempted to form a National Negro Baseball League, but the
association folded before a single game had been played.
     The new Negro National League, which included the top teams from Chicago,
St. Louis, Detroit, and other Midwestern cities, fared far better. At
Foster's insistence, all clubs, with the exception of the Kansas City
Monarchs, whom Foster reluctantly accepted, were controlled by blacks. J.L.
Wilkinson, who owned the Monarchs, a major drawing card, had won the respect
of his fellow owners and soon overcame Foster's reservations. He became the
league secretary and Foster's trusted ally. Operating under the able guidance
of Foster and Wilkinson, the league flourished during its early years. In
1923, it attracted 400,000 fans and accumulated $200,000 in gate receipts.
     The success of the Negro National League inspired competitors. In 1923,
booking agent Nat Strong formed an Eastern Colored League, with teams in New
York, Brooklyn, Baltimore, New Jersey, and Philadelphia. With four of the six
teams owned by whites, and Strong controlling an erratic schedule, the league
had somewhat less legitimacy than Foster's circuit. Playing in larger
population centers, however, the more affluent Eastern clubs successfully
raided some of the top players of the Negro National League before the
circuits negotiated an uneasy truce in 1924. Throughout the remainder of the
decade, however, acrimony rather than harmony characterized interleague
relations. A third association emerged in the South, where the stronger
independent teams in major cities formed the Southern Negro League. While
this group became a breeding ground for top players, the impoverished nature
of its clientele, and the inability of clubs to bolster revenues with games
against white squads, rendered them unable to prevent their best players from
jumping to the higher paying Northern teams.
     At their best the Negro Leagues of the 1920s were haphazard affairs.
Since most clubs continued to rely on barnstorming for their primary
livelihood, scheduling proved difficult. Teams played uneven numbers of games
and especially in the Eastern circuit skipped official contests for more
lucrative nonleague matchups. Several of the stronger independent teams, like
the Homestead Grays, remained unaffiliated. Umpires were often incompetent
and lacked authority to control conditions. Finally, players frequently
jumped from one franchise to another, peddling their services to the highest
bidder. In 1926, Foster grew ill, stripping the Negro National League of his
vital leadership. Two years later, the Eastern Colored League disbanded and
in 1931, less than a year after Foster's death, the Negro National League
departed the scene, once again leaving black baseball with no organized
structure.
     With the collapse of Foster's Negro National League and the onset of the
Great Depression, the always-borderline economics of operating a black
baseball club grew more precarious. White booking agents, like Philadelphia's
Eddie Gottlieb or Abe Saperstein of the Midwest, again reigned supreme. In
the early 1930s, only the stronger independent clubs like the Homestead Grays
or Kansas City Monarchs, novelty acts like the Cincinnati Clowns, or those
teams backed by the "numbers kings" of the black ghettos could survive.
     The Kansas City Monarchs emerged as the healthiest holdover from the old
Negro National League. In 1929, owner Wilkinson had commissioned an Omaha,
Nebraska, company to design a portable lighting system for night games. The
equipment, consisting of a 250-horsepower motor and a 100-kilowatt generator,
which illuminated lights atop telescoping poles 50 feet above the field, took
about two hours to assemble. To pay for the innovation, Wilkinson mortgaged
everything he owned and took in Kansas City businessman Tom Baird as a
partner. But the gamble paid off. The novelty of night baseball allowed the
Monarchs to play two and three games a day and made them the most popular
touring club in the nation.
     Meanwhile, in Pittsburgh, former basketball star Cumberland Posey, Jr.
had forged the Homestead Grays into one of the best teams in America. Posey,
the son of one of Pittsburgh's wealthiest black businessmen, had joined the
Grays, then a sandlot team, as an outfielder in 1911. By the early 1920s he
owned the club and began recruiting top national players to supplement local
talent. In 1925, he signed 39-year-old Smokey Joe Williams, and the following
year he lured Oscar Charleston, whom many consider the top black player of
that era. Over the next several seasons Posey recruited Judy Johnson, Martin
Dihigo, and Cool Papa Bell. In 1930, he added a catcher from the Pittsburgh
sandlots named Josh Gibson, and in 1934 brought in first baseman Buck Leonard
from North Carolina. Unwilling to subject himself to outside control, Posey
preferred to remain free from league affiliations. Yet for two decades, the
Homestead Grays reigned as one of the strongest teams in black baseball.
     In the 1930s, Posey faced competition from crosstown rival Gus Greenlee,
"Mr. Big" of Pittsburgh's North Side numbers rackets. Greenlee took over the
Pittsburgh Crawfords, a local team, in 1930. Greenlee spent $100,000 to build
a new stadium, and wooed established ballplayers with lavish salary offers.
In 1931, he landed the colorful Satchel Paige, the hottest young pitcher in
the land, and the following year raided the Grays, outbidding Posey for the
services of Charleston, Johnson, and Gibson. In 1934, James "Cool Papa" Bell
jumped the St. Louis Stars and brought his legendary speed to the Crawfords.
With five future Hall of Famers, Greenlee had assembled one of the great
squads of baseball history.
     The emergence of Gus Greenlee marked a new era for black baseball, the
reign of the numbers men. In an age of limited opportunities for blacks, many
of the most talented northern black entrepreneurs turned to gambling and other
illegal operations for their livelihood. Novelist Richard Wright explained,
"They would have been steel tycoons, Wall Street brokers, auto moguls, had
they been white."  Like the political bosses of nineteenth century urban
America, numbers operators provided an informal assistance network for needy
patrons in the impoverished black communities and represented a major source
of capital for black businesses. In city after city, the numbers barons,
seeking an element of respectability or an outlet to shield gambling profits
from the Internal Revenue Service or merely the thrill of sports ownership,
came to dominate black baseball. In Harlem, second-generation Cuban immigrant
Alex Pompez, a powerful figure in the Dutch Schultz mob, ran the Cuban Stars,
while Ed "Soldier Boy" Semler controlled the Black Yankees. Abe Manley of the
Newark Eagles, Ed Bolden of the Philadelphia Stars, and Tom Wilson of the
Baltimore Elite Giants all garnered their fortunes from the numbers game.
Even Cum Posey, who had no connection with the rackets, had to bring in
Homestead numbers banker Rufus "Sonnyman" Jackson as a partner and financier
to stave off Greenlee's challenge.
     In 1933, Greenlee unified the franchises owned by the numbers kings into
a rejuvenated Negro National League. Under his leadership, writes Donn
Rogosin, "The Negro National League meetings were enclaves of the most
powerful black gangsters in the nation."  This "unholy alliance" sustained
black baseball in the Northeast through depression and war. Even the collapse
of the Crawfords and demolition of Greenlee Stadium in 1939, failed to weaken
the league which survived until the onset of integration. In 1937 a second
circuit, the Negro American League was formed in the Midwest and South.
Dominated by Wilkinson and the Kansas City Monarchs, the Negro American League
relied less on numbers brokers, but more on white ownership for their
financing.
     The formation of the Negro American League encouraged the rejuvenation of
an annual World Series, matching the champions of the two leagues. But the
Negro League World Series never achieved the prominence of its white
counterpart. The fact that league standings were often determined among teams
playing uneven numbers of games, diluted the notion of a champion.
Furthermore, impoverished urban blacks could not sustain attendance at a
prolonged series. As a result, the Negro League World Series always took a
back seat to the annual East-West All-Star Game played in Chicago. The
East-West Game, originated by Greenlee in 1933, quickly emerged as the
centerpiece of black baseball. Fans chose the players in polls conducted by
black newspapers. By 1939, leading candidates received as many as 500,000
votes. Large crowds of blacks and whites watched the finest Negro League
stars, and the revenues divided among the teams often spelled the difference
between profit and loss at the season's end.
     By the 1930s and 1940s, black baseball had become an integral part of
Northern ghetto life. With hundreds of employees and millions of dollars in
revenue, the Negro Leagues, as Donn Rogosin notes, "may rank among the highest
achievements of black enterprise during segregation."  In addition, baseball
provided an economic ripple effect, boosting business in hotels, cafes,
restaurants and bars. In Kansas City and other towns, games became social
events, as black citizens, recalls manager Buck O'Neil, "wore their finery."
The Monarch Booster Club was a leading civic organization and the "Miss
Monarch Bathing Beauty" pageant a popular event.
     Black baseball also represented a source of pride for the black
community. "The Monarchs was Kansas City's team," boasted bartender Jesse
Fisher. "They made Kansas City the talk of the town all over the world."  In
several cities, white politicians routinely appeared at Opening Day games to
curry favor with their often neglected black constituents. When Greenlee
Field launched its operations in Pittsburgh, the mayor, city council, and
county commissioners lined the field boxes. Negro League owners also played a
role in the fight against segregation. In Newark, Effa Manley, who ran the
Eagles with her husband Abe, served as treasurer of the New Jersey NAACP and
belonged to the Citizen's League for Fair Play which fought for black
employment opportunities. Manley sponsored a "Stop Lynching" fundraiser at
one Eagles home game.
     The impact of the Negro Leagues, however, ranged beyond the communities
whose names the teams bore. Throughout the age of Jim Crow baseball, even in
those years when a substantial league structure existed, official league games
accounted for a relatively small part of the black baseball experience. Black
teams would typically play over 200 games a year, only a third of which
counted in the league standings. The vast majority of contests occurred on
the "barnstorming" circuit, pitting black athletes against a broad array of
professional and semi-professional competition, white and black, throughout
the nation. In the pre-television era, traveling teams brought a higher level
of baseball to fans in the towns and cities of America and allowed local
talent to test their skills against the professionals. While some all-white
teams, like the "House of David" also trod the barnstorming trail, itinerancy
was the key to survival for black squads. The capital needed to finance a
Negro League team existed primarily in Northern cities, but the overwhelming
majority of blacks lived in the South.
     "The schedule was a rugged one," recalled Roy Campanella of the Baltimore
Elite Giants. "Rarely were we in the same city two days in a row. Mostly we
played by day and traveled by night."  After the Monarchs introduced night
baseball, teams played both day and night appearing in two and sometimes three
different ballparks on the same day. Teams traveled in buses--"our home,
dressing room, dining room, and hotel"--or sandwiched into touring cars. "We
had little time to waste on the road," states Quincy Trouppe, "so it was a
rare treat when the cars would stop at times to let us stretch out and
exercise for a few minutes."  Most major hotels barred black guests, so even
when the schedule allowed overnight stays, the athletes found themselves in
less than comfortable accommodations. Large cities usually had better black
hotels where ballplayers, entertainers, and other members of the black
bourgeoisie congregated. On the road, however, Negro Leaguers more frequently
were relegated to Jim Crow roadhouses, "continually under attack by bedbugs."
     The black baseball experience extended beyond the confines of the United
States and into Central America and the Caribbean. Negro Leaguers appeared
regularly in the Cuban, Puerto Rican, Venezuelan, and Dominican winter leagues
where they competed against black and white Latin stars and major leaguers as
well. Some blacks, like Willie Wells and Ray Dandridge, jumped permanently to
the Mexican League, where several also became successful managers of
interracial teams. As Wells explained, "I am not faced by the racial
problem . . . I've found freedom and democracy here, something I never found
in the United States . . . In Mexico, I am a man."
     In the United States, however, blacks often found themselves in more
distasteful roles. To attract crowds throughout the nation and to keep fans
interested in the frequently one-sided contests against amateur competition,
some black clubs injected elements of clowning and showmanship into their
pre-game and competitive performances. As early as the 1880s, comedy had
characterized many barnstorming teams. Black baseball, even in its most
serious form, tended to be flashier and less formal than white play. Against
inferior teams, players often showboated and flaunted their superior skills.
Pitcher Satchel Paige would call in his outfielders or guarantee to strike out
the first six or nine batters to face him against semi-professional squads.
In the late 1930s, Olympic star Jesse Owens traveled with the Monarchs, racing
against horses in pre-game exhibitions.
     Black teams, like the Tennessee Rats and Zulu Cannibals, thrived on their
minstrel show reputations. The most famous of these franchises were the
"Ethiopian Clowns."  Originating in Miami in the 1930s, the Clowns later
operated out of Cincinnati and then Indianapolis. Their antics included a
"pepperball and shadowball" performance (later emulated by basketball's Harlem
Globetrotters), and mid-game vaudeville routines by comics Spec Bebop, a
dwarf, and King Tut. Players like Pepper Bassett, "the Rocking Chair Catcher"
and "Goose" Tatum, a talented first baseman and natural comedian, enlivened
the festivities. By the 1940s, the Clowns, through the effort of booking
agent Syd Pollack, dominated the baseball comedy market. In 1943, their
popularity won the Clowns entrance into the Negro Leagues, although other
owners demanded they drop the demeaning "Ethiopian" nickname. Although never
one of the better black teams, the Clowns greatly bolstered Negro League
attendance.
     Their popularity notwithstanding, the comedy teams reflected one of the
worst elements of black baseball. The Clowns and Zulus perpetuated
stereotypes drawn from Stepin Fetchit and Tarzan movies. "Negroes must
realize the danger in insisting that ballplayers paint their faces and go
through minstrel show revues before each ballgame," protested sportswriter
Wendell Smith. Many black players resented the image that all were clowns.
"Didn't nobody clown in our league but the Indianapolis Clowns," objected
Piper Davis. "We played baseball."
     Even without the clowning, black baseball offered a more freewheeling
and, in many respects, more exciting brand of baseball than the major leagues.
Since the 1920s, when Babe Ruth had revolutionized the game, the majors had
pursued power strategies, emphasizing the home run above all else. Although
the great sluggers of the Negro Leagues rivaled those in the National and
American Leagues, they comprised but one element in the speed-dominated
universe of "tricky baseball". Black teams emphasized the bunt, the stolen
base, and the hit-and-run. "We played by the 'coonsbury' rules," boasted
second baseman Newt Allen. "That's just any way you think you can win, any
kind of play you think you could get by on."  In games between white and black
all-star teams, this style of play often confounded the major leaguers.
Centerfielder James "Cool Papa" Bell personified this approach. Bell was so
fast, marveled rival third baseman Judy Johnson, "You couldn't play back in
your regular position or you'd never throw him out."  In one game against a
major league All-Star squad, Bell scored from first base on a sacrifice bunt!
In center field, his great speed allowed him to lurk in the shallow reaches of
the outfield, ranging great distances to make spectacular catches.
     Negro League pitching also took on a peculiar caste. "Anything went in
the Negro League," reported catcher Roy Campanella, "Spitballs, shineballs,
emery balls; pitchers used any and all of them."  Since league officials could
not afford to replace the balls as frequently as in organized ball, scuffed
and nicked baseballs remained in the game, giving pitchers great latitude for
creative efforts. "I never knew what the ball would do once it left the
pitcher's hand," recalled Campanella.
     Since most rosters included only 14 to 18 men, Negro League players
demonstrated a wide range of versatility. Each was required to fill in at a
variety of positions. Star pitchers often found themselves in the outfield
when not on the mound. Some won renown at more than one position. Ted
"Double-Duty" Radcliffe often pitched in the first game of a doubleheader and
caught in the second. Cuban Martin Dihigo, whom many rank as the greatest
player of all time, excelled at every position. In 1938, in the Mexican
League he led the league's pitchers with an 18-2 record and the league's
hitters with a .387 average.
     The manpower shortage offered opportunities for individuals to display
their all-around talents, but it also limited the competitiveness of the black
teams. While on a given day a Negro League franchise, featuring one of its
top pitchers, might defeat a major league squad, most teams lacked the depth
to compete on a regular basis. "The big leagues were strong in every
position," remarks Radcliffe. "Most of the colored teams had a few stars but
they weren't strong in every position."
     While black teams may not have matched the top clubs in organized
baseball, the individual stars of the 1930s and 1940s clearly ranked among the
best of any age. Homestead Gray teammates Josh Gibson and Buck Leonard won
renown as the Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig of the Negro Leagues. The Grays
discovered Gibson in 1929 as an 18-year-old catcher on the sandlots of
Pittsburgh, where he had already earned a reputation for 500-foot home runs.
For 17 years, he launched prodigious blasts off pitchers in the Negro Leagues,
on the barnstorming tour, and in Latin America. As talented as any major
league star, Gibson died in January 1947, at age 35, just three months before
Jackie Robinson joined the Brooklyn Dodgers. Leonard, four-years older than
Gibson, starred in both the Negro and Mexican Leagues as a sure-handed,
power-hitting first baseman. The Newark Eagles in the early 1940s, boasted
the "million dollar infield" of first baseman Mule Suttles, second baseman
Dick Seay, shortstop Willie Wells, and third baseman Ray Dandridge. The
acrobatic fielding skills of Seay, Wells and Dandridge led Roy Campanella to
call this the greatest infield he ever saw.
     Amidst the many talented Negro Leaguers of 1930s and 1940s, however, one
long, lean figure came to personify black baseball to blacks and whites alike.
Leroy "Satchel" Paige began his prolonged athletic odyssey in his hometown in
1924 as a 17-year-old pitcher with the semi-professional Mobile Tigers. He
joined the Chattanooga Black Lookouts of the Negro Southern League in 1926.
Two years later, the Lookouts sold his contract to the Birmingham Black
Barons. By 1930, his explosive fastball, impeccable control, and eccentric
mannerisms had made him a legend in the South. In 1932, Gus Greenlee brought
Paige to the Pittsburgh Crawfords where the colorful pitcher embellished his
reputation by winning 54 games in his first two years. Greenlee also began
the practice of hiring out Paige to semi-professional clubs that needed a
one-day box office boost.
     For seven years Paige feuded with Greenlee, jumping the club when a
better offer appeared, being banished "for life", and then returning. In the
mid-1930s, in addition to his stints with the Crawfords, Paige won fame by
boosting Bismarck, North Dakota, to the national semi-professional
championships, hurling for the Dominican Republic at the behest of dictator
Rafael Trujillo, in the Mexican League, and especially on the postseason
barnstorming trail pitted against Dizzy Dean's Major League All-Stars. "That
skinny old Satchel Paige with those long arms is my idea of the pitcher with
the greatest stuff I ever saw," claimed the unusually immodest Dean.
     Paige's appeal stemmed as much from his unusual persona as his pitching
prowess. A born showman, Paige's lanky, lackadaisical presence evoked popular
racial stereotypes of the age. "As undependable as a pair of second-hand
suspenders," Paige often arrived late or failed to show. His names for his
pitches (the "bee ball" which buzzed and all of a sudden, "be there"; the
"jump ball"; and the "trouble ball") and his minstrel show one-liners enhanced
the image. But on the mound, Paige invariably rose to the occasion against
top competition or challenged inferior opponents by calling in the outfield or
promising to strike out the side.
     In 1938, a sore arm threatened to curtail Paige's career but the Kansas
City Monarchs, hoping his reputation alone would draw fans, signed him for
their traveling second team. On the road, Paige perfected a repertoire of
curves and off-speed pitches, including his famous "hesitation" pitch. When
his fastball returned in 1939, he became a better pitcher than ever. Promoted
to the main Monarch club, Paige pitched the team to four consecutive Negro
American League pennants. From 1941-1947, although officially still a
Monarch, Paige spent far more time as an independent performer, hired out by
Monarchs' owner J.L. Wilkinson to semi-pro and Negro League clubs. "He kept
our league going," recalls Othello Renfroe. "Anytime a team got into trouble,
it sent for Satchel to pitch."  Paige also continued to hurl against major
league All-Star teams. In the 1940s, the example of Satchel Paige, whose
legend had spread into the white community, offered the most compelling
argument for the desegregation of the National Pastime.
     Paige's exploits against white players revealed a fundamental irony about
baseball in the Jim Crow era. While organized baseball rigidly enforced its
ban on black players within the major and minor leagues, opportunities
abounded for black athletes to prove themselves against white competition
along the unpoliced boundaries of the national pastime. During the 1930s,
Western promoters sponsored tournaments for the best semi-professional teams
in the nation. These squads often featured former and future major leaguers
as well as top local talent. In 1934, the Denver Post tourney, "the little
World Series of the West," invited the Kansas City Monarchs to compete for the
$7,500 first prize. The Monarchs fought their way into the finals against the
House of David team (also owned by J.L. Wilkinson) only to find themselves
confronted on the mound by Paige, rented out to pitch this one game. Paige
outdueled Monarchs ace, Chet Brewer, 2-1. Black teams became a fixture in the
Post series, emerging victorious for several consecutive years.
     In 1935, the National Baseball Congress began an annual tournament in
Wichita, Kansas. The competition attracted community squads heartily
bankrolled by local business leaders. Neil Churchill, an auto dealer from
Bismarck, North Dakota, recruited a half-dozen black stars, including Paige
and Brewer, to represent the town in the Wichita competition. Bismarck
naturally swept the series, and thereafter teams that were either integrated
or all black routinely appeared in the National Baseball Congress invitational
each year.
     In an age in which the major leagues were confined to the East and
Midwest, and television had yet to bring baseball into people's homes,
postseason tours by big league stars offered yet another opportunity for black
players to prove their equality on the diamond. Games pitting blacks against
whites were popular features of the barnstorming circuit. Until the late
1920s, when Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis limited postseason play to
all-star squads, black teams frequently met and defeated major league clubs in
postseason competition. During the next decade, matchups between the Babe
Ruth or Dizzy Dean "All-Stars" and black players became frequent. In the
autumns of 1934 and 1935, Dean's team traveled the nation accompanied by the
"Satchel Paige All-Stars."  In one memorable 1934 game, called by baseball
executive Bill Veeck, "the greatest pitching battle I have ever seen," Paige
bested Dean 1-0. Surviving records of interracial contests during the 1930s
reveal that blacks won two-thirds of the games. "That's when we played the
hardest," asserted Judy Johnson, "to let them know, and to let the public
know, that we had the same talent they did and probably a little better at
times."
     The rivalries proved particularly keen on the West Coast where Monarchs
co-owner Tom Baird organized the California Winter League, which included
black teams, white major and minor league stars, and some of Mexico's top
players. In 1940, pitcher Chet Brewer formed the Kansas City Royals, which
each year fielded one of the best clubs on the coast. One year the Royals
defeated the Hollywood Stars, who had won the Pacific Coast League
championship, six straight times. In 1945, Brewer's team, including Jackie
Robinson and Satchel Paige, regularly defeated major league competition.
     The most famous of the interracial barnstorming tours occurred in 1946,
when Cleveland Indian pitcher Bob Feller organized a major league All-Star
Team, rented two Flying Tiger aircraft and hopped the nation accompanied by
the Satchel Paige All-Stars. With Feller and Paige each pitching a few
innings a day, the tour proved extremely lucrative for promoters and players
alike and gave widespread publicity to the skills of the black athletes.
     The World War Two years marked the heyday of the Negro Leagues. With
black and white workers flooding into Northern industrial centers, relatively
full employment, and a scarcity of available consumer goods, attendance at all
sorts of entertainment events increased dramatically. In 1942, three million
fans saw Negro League teams play, while the East-West game in 1943 attracted
over 51,000 fans. "Even the white folks was coming out big," recalled Satchel
Paige.
     But World War Two also generated forces which would challenge the
foundations of Jim Crow baseball. In the armed forces, baseball teams like
the Black Bluejackets of the Great Lakes Naval Station team posted outstanding
records against teams featuring white major leaguers. In 1945, a
well-publicized tournament of teams in the European theatre featured top black
players like Leon Day, Joe Green, and Willard Brown in the championship round.
More significantly, the hypocrisy of blacks fighting for their country but
unable to participate in the national pastime grew steadily more apparent. As
wartime manpower shortages forced major league teams to rely on a 15-year-old
pitcher, over-the-hill veterans, and one-armed Pete Gray, their refusal to
sign black players seemed increasingly irrational. "How do you think I felt
when I saw a one-armed outfielder?" moaned Chet Brewer. Pitcher Nate Moreland
protested, "I can play in Mexico, but I have to fight for America where I
can't play."  Pickets at Yankee Stadium carried placards asking, "If we are
able to stop bullets, why not balls?"
     Amidst this heightened awareness, organized baseball repeatedly walked to
the precipice of integration, but always failed to take the final leap. In
1942, Moreland and All-American football star Jackie Robinson requested a
tryout at a White Sox training camp in Pasadena, California. Robinson, in
particular, impressed White Sox Jimmy Dykes but nothing came of the event.
Brooklyn Dodger manager Leo Durocher publicly stated his willingness to sign
blacks, only to receive a stinging rebuke from Commissioner Landis. Landis
again short-circuited integration talk the following year. At the annual
baseball meetings, black leaders led by actor Paul Robeson gained the
opportunity to address major league owners on the issue, but Landis ruled all
further discussion out of order.
     In 1943, several minor and major league teams were rumored close to
signing black players. In California, where winter league play had
demonstrated the potential of black players, several clubs considered
integration. The Los Angeles Angels of the Pacific Coast League announced
tryouts for three black players, but pressure from other league owners doomed
the plan. Oakland owner Vince DeVicenzi ordered Manager Johnny Vergez to
consider pitcher Chet Brewer, the most popular black player on the West Coast,
for the Oaks. Vergez refused and the issue died. Two years later,
Bakersfield, a Cleveland Indian farm team in the California League, offered
Brewer a position as player-coach, but the parent club vetoed the plan.
     At the major league level, Washington Senators owner Clark Griffith
called sluggers Josh Gibson and Buck Leonard into his office and asked if they
would like to play in the major leagues. They answered affirmatively, but
never heard from Griffith again. In Pittsburgh, Daily Worker sports editor
Nat Low pressured Pirate owner William Benswanger to arrange a tryout for
catcher Roy Campanella and pitcher Dave Barnhill. At the last minute,
Benswanger canceled the audition, citing "unnamed pressures". The most
promising situation occurred in Philadelphia where young Bill Veeck had
arranged to buy the Phillies. Veeck planned to stock the team with Negro
League stars, whom he felt sure would guarantee Philadelphia the pennant.
When Commissioner Landis learned of his plans, however, Veeck suddenly found
his purchase blocked.
     For more than two decades, the imperial Landis had reigned over baseball
as an implacable foe of integration. While hypocritically denying the
existence of any "rule, formal or informal, or any understanding--unwritten,
subterranean, or sub-anything--against the signing of Negro players," Landis
had stringently policed the color line. His death in 1944 removed a major
barrier for integration advocates.
     In April 1945, with World War Two entering its final months, the
integration crusade gained momentum. On April 6, People's Voice sportswriter
Joe Bostic appeared at the Brooklyn Dodger training camp at Bear Mountain, New
York, with two Negro League players, Terris McDuffie and Dave "Showboat"
Thomas, and demanded a tryout. An outraged, but outmaneuvered Dodger
President Branch Rickey, allowed the pair to work out with the club. One week
later, a more serious confrontation occurred in Boston. The Red Sox, under
pressure from popular columnist Dave Egan and city councilman Isidore
Muchnick, agreed to audition Sam Jethroe, the Negro League's leading hitter in
1944, second baseman Marvin Williams, and Kansas City Monarch shortstop Jackie
Robinson, all top prospects in their mid-twenties. The Fenway Park tryout,
however, proved little more than a formality and the players never again heard
from the Red Sox.
     The publicity surrounding these events, however, forced the major leagues
to address the issue at its April meetings. At the urging of black
sportswriter Sam Lacy, Leslie O'Connor, Landis' interim successor,
established a Major League Committee on Baseball Integration in April 1945, to
review the problem. In addition, the racial views of newly appointed
Commissioner A.B. "Happy" Chandler came under close scrutiny. A former
governor of the segregated state of Kentucky, Chandler nonetheless offered at
least verbal support to the entry of blacks into organized ball. "If a black
boy can make it on Okinawa and Guadalcanal, hell, he can make it in baseball,"
Chandler told black reporter Rick Roberts. Whether Chandler, however,
unlike Landis, would reinforce his rhetoric with positive actions remained
uncertain.
     Unbeknownst to the integration advocates, baseball officials, and local
politicians sand-dancing around the race issue, Branch Rickey, the president
of the Brooklyn Dodgers, had already set in motion the events which would lead
to the historic breakthrough.
     Raised in rural Ohio in a strict Methodist family, Rickey, nicknamed by
sportwriters "The Deacon" and "The Mahatma," had financed his way through
college and law school playing and coaching baseball. His skills as a catcher
merited two years in the major leagues. In 1913, he abandoned a fledgling law
career to manage the St. Louis Browns, and in 1917 he began a 25-year
relationship with the St. Louis Cardinals. Rickey served as the field manager
of the Cardinals from 1919-1925, after which he became the club's
vice-president and business manager. In the 1920s and 1930s, Rickey perfected
the farm system, whereby a major league team controlled young, undeveloped
players through a chain of minor league franchises. This innovation allowed
the Cardinals to compete equally with richer teams in larger cities,
generating pennants for the "Gas House Gang" and allowing the team to
profitably sell off surplus talent.
     Although Rickey later claimed that his desire to integrate baseball dated
from 1904, when an Indiana hotel had denied lodgings to a black player on his
college squad, he gave no indication of any interest in the race issue during
his years in St. Louis. Perhaps this stemmed from the fact that St. Louis was
a Southern city with firmly entrenched segregationist traditions. Throughout
Rickey's reign with the Cardinals, blacks sat in Jim Crow sections at
Sportsman's Park, a policy which he never openly challenged.
     Nonetheless, in 1942, when Rickey left the Cardinals and assumed control
of the Brooklyn Dodgers, he informed the Dodger ownership of his intentions to
recruit black players in the near future. Rickey never clearly explained the
motivations for this dramatic turnaround. At times Rickey cited moral
considerations, stating, "I couldn't face my God much longer knowing that His
black creatures are held separate and distinct from His white creatures in the
game that has given me all I own."  On other occasions, he eschewed the role
of "crusader," proclaiming, "My selfish objective is to win baseball
games . . . The Negroes will make us winners for years to come."  Some
observers saw financial reasons behind Rickey's actions, citing the lure of
the growing black population in Northern cities and the prospects of increased
attendance. Certainly, Brooklyn offered a more congenial atmosphere for
integration than St. Louis. In all probability, a combination of these
factors--geographic, moral, competitive, and financial--coupled with Rickey's
desire for a broader role in history, impelled him to seek black players.
     From 1942-1945, Rickey, a conservative, cautious, and conspiratorial man,
moved slowly, studying the philosophical and sociological ramifications of
integration and taking few people into his confidence. During the spring and
summer of 1945, under the guise of creating a new black baseball circuit, the
United States League, Rickey's scouts combed the nation and the Caribbean for
black players. Rickey sought one player who would spearhead the breakthrough
and several other potential stars who would follow in his wake. By August
1945, scouting reports and Rickey's own investigations pointed to one man as
the ideal candidate for the struggle ahead--Kansas City Monarch shortstop
Jackie Robinson.
     In Robinson, Rickey had found a rare combination of athletic ability,
competitive fire, intelligence, maturity, and poise. Born in Georgia and
raised in Pasadena, California, Robinson had won fame at UCLA as the nation's
greatest all-around athlete, earning All-America honors in football,
establishing broad-jump records, and leading his basketball conference in
scoring, all in addition to his baseball exploits. In 1942, he enlisted in
the army where he attended officer's candidate school and became a lieutenant.
Two years later, while stationed in Texas, Robinson's refusal to move to the
back of a bus resulted in a court martial and ultimate acquittal. This
incident demonstrated his commitment to the cause of equal rights. After his
discharge from the army, Robinson joined the Monarchs and earned a starting
spot in the 1945 East-West All-Star Game. Robinson's college education,
experience in interracial athletics, and army career complemented his playing
talents. But his fiery pride and temper seemed a potential obstacle to his
success.
     On August 28, 1945, Robinson met with Rickey at the latter's Brooklyn
offices. Rickey revealed his bold plan to integrate organized baseball and
challenged Robinson to accept the primary role. The Mahatma flamboyantly
playacted, assuming the role of racist players, fans and hotel clerks,
impressing upon Robinson the need to "turn the other cheek" in the event of
racial confrontations. By the end of the session, Robinson had signed a
contract to play for the Montreal Royals in the International League, the top
farm team in the Brooklyn system. Rickey promised that if Robinson's
performance merited it, he would be promoted to the Dodgers.
     Rickey intended to announce the Robinson signing along with that of
several other black players, but political pressures stemming from the New
York City fall elections forced him to abandon his original plans and, on
October 23, 1945, to reveal the signing of Robinson alone. The announcement
sent shock waves through the baseball establishment and placed Robinson into a
spotlight that he would never relinquish. Numerous sports figures, from
players to executives to reporters, predicted the ultimate failure of Rickey's
"great experiment".
     Robinson's first test came at spring training in Florida in 1946. Thrust
into the deep South where Jim Crow reigned supreme, Robinson and black pitcher
John Wright, whom Rickey had recruited to room with Robinson, found themselves
unable to room with their teammates and barred from playing in Jacksonville
and other Florida cities. In addition, a shoulder injury hindered Robinson's
performance, raising doubts about his abilities.
     On April 18, 1946, at Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City, Robinson became
the first black to appear in modern Organized Baseball (excepting Jimmy
Claxton, who passed as white in 1916 for the Oakland Oaks of the Pacific Coast
League). In the process he staged one of the most remarkable performances
under pressure in the history of the game. In Robinson's second at-bat, he
hit a three-run home run. He followed this with three singles and two stolen
bases, scoring a total of four runs. As the New York Times reported, "This
would have been a big day for any man, but under the circumstances it was a
tremendous feat."
     In many respects, 1946 proved a nightmare season for Robinson. Fans
jeered him in Baltimore, and opposing players tormented him with insults.
Pitchers made him a frequent target of brushback pitches and baserunners
attempted to spike and maim him at second base. As the season drew to a
close, Robinson hovered on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Through it all,
however, Robinson remained a dominant force on the field. His .349 batting
average and 113 runs-scored led the league and paced the Royals to the
International League pennant. His presence inspired new attendance records
throughout the circuit. In the Little World Series, which pitted Montreal
against the Louisville Colonels of the American Association, Robinson braved
the hostility of Kentucky fans and stroked game-winning hits in the final two
games to give the Royals the championship.
     Rickey's initiative and Robinson's dramatic success failed to inspire
other team owners. In August, major league executives debated a controversial
report discussing the "Race Question" which argued that integration would
"lessen the value of several major league franchises."  No other clubs moved
to sign black players. Only four blacks, all in the Brooklyn system, joined
Robinson in organized baseball in 1946. At Nashua, New Hampshire, in the New
England League, the Dodger farm club fielded catcher Roy Campanella and
pitcher Don Newcombe. The Nashua Dodgers won the league championship largely
due to Campanella's hitting and Newcombe's hurling. In the small town of
Trois Rivieres in Quebec, pitchers John Wright and Roy Partlow, both of whom
had appeared briefly with Robinson at Montreal, led a third Dodger farm team
to the Canadian-American league crown. Nonetheless, at the start of the 1947
season, no additional black players appeared on major or minor league rosters.
     Although Robinson's performance at Montreal merited promotion to the
Dodgers, Robinson remained a Royal when he reported to spring training in
1947. Rickey hoped that the Brooklyn players themselves, when exposed to
Robinson's talents, would request his addition to the team. He switched
Robinson to first base, a weak spot on the Dodger squad, to make his case more
compelling. Robinson compiled a .519 batting average against the major
leaguers, but several Dodger players, instead of demanding his promotion,
rebelled. Led by "Dixie" Walker, a group of mostly Southern Dodgers
circulated a petition against Robinson. Rickey moved quickly to short-circuit
the dissension, threatening to trade any athletes who opposed Robinson. In
addition, the refusal of Pete Reiser, "Pee Wee" Reese and other Dodger stars
to support the protestors, effectively squelched the petition drive. Finally,
on April 10, just five days before the start of the 1947 season, Rickey
officially announced that Robinson would join the Dodgers.
     Throughout the early months of the 1947 campaign Robinson stoically
endured crises and challenges. The Philadelphia Phillies, led by manager Ben
Chapman, unleashed a barrage of verbal abuse against Robinson which horrified
Dodger players and fans. The Benjamin Franklin Hotel in Philadelphia refused
lodgings for Robinson and death threats appeared among his voluminous daily
mail. In early May, rumors that the St. Louis Cardinals planned to strike
rather than compete against Robinson prompted National League President Ford
Frick to warn the players, "If you do this you will be suspended from the
league."  Opposing pitchers targeted Robinson's body at a record setting pace
and an early season 0 for 20 batting drought led many to question his
qualifications. "But for the fact that he is the first acknowledged Negro in
major league history," observed a Cincinnati sportswriter, "he would have been
benched a week ago."
     Yet, as the season unfolded, Robinson converted doubters and enemies into
admirers. By the end of June, a 21-game hitting streak had raised his batting
average to .315 and propelled the Dodgers into first place. Robinson's daring
baserunning, typical of Negro League play, evoked images of an "Ebony Ty
Cobb". In city after city, record crowds flocked to experience Robinson's
charismatic dynamism as five teams set new all-time season attendance marks.
While periodic controversies erupted over baserunners who used their spikes
"to make a pincushion out of Robinson" at first base, Robinson won the
acceptance and respect of teammates and opponents alike. In September, as the
Dodgers coasted to the pennant, the Sporting News named Robinson the major
league Rookie of the Year. To cap his triumphant season, Robinson became the
first black player to appear in the World Series.
     Robinson's success on the field and at the box office stimulated some
movement on the part of other clubs to hire black players. In Cleveland Bill
Veeck recruited 23-year-old Larry Doby, who jumped straight from the Negro
League Newark Eagles to the Indians in July. Used sparingly, Doby batted a
meager .156, casting doubts upon his future. The St. Louis Browns, seeking to
boost flagging attendance, signed Willard Brown and Hank Thompson of the
Kansas City Monarchs. When the turnstiles failed to respond, the Browns
released both Brown and Thompson, although the latter had established himself
as a top prospect. In the National League, the Dodgers signed Dan Bankhead to
bolster the club's pitching down the stretch. On August 25, Bankhead, the
first black pitcher to appear in the major leagues, surrendered eight runs in
three innings but also slammed a home run in his initial at bat.
     In addition to the five athletes who appeared in the major leagues, a
handful of blacks surfaced in the minors. Campanella succeeded Robinson at
Montreal, earning accolades as "the best catcher in the business". Newcombe
returned to Nashua where he won 19 games. The independent Stamford Bombers of
the Colonial League fielded six black players, and two blacks, including
future major leaguer Chuck Harmon, played in the Canadian-American League.
Veteran Negro League hurler Nate Moreland won 20 games in California's Class C
Sunset League. For the most part, however, organized baseball continued to
ignore the treasure trove of black talent submerged in the Negro Leagues. A
full year would pass before additional major league teams would add black
players to their chains.
     In 1948, the integration focus shifted from the Dodgers, where Robinson
now reigned at second base, to the Cleveland Indians. In spring training,
Larry Doby, who had performed so dismally in 1947, unexpectedly won a starting
berth in the Cleveland outfield. After an erratic early season stretch in
which Doby alternated errors and strikeouts with tape-measure home runs, he
batted .301 and became a key performer for the American League champion
Indians. In July, Cleveland owner Bill Veeck added the legendary Satchel
Paige to the team. Amidst charges that his signing had been a publicity
stunt, the 42-year-old Paige won six out of seven decisions, including
back-to-back shutouts, and posted a 2.47 earned run average.
Standing-room-only crowds greeted him in Washington, Chicago, Boston, and even
in Cleveland's mammoth Municipal Stadium. The Indians, after defeating the
Boston Red Sox in a pennant playoff, won the World Series in six games with
Doby's .318 average leading the club.
     In 1947, the Dodgers had integrated and reached the World Series; in
1948, the Indians had duplicated and surpassed this achievement. Both teams
had set all-time attendance records. Remarkably, as the 1948 season drew to
a close, no other franchise had followed their lead. In the minor leagues,
Roy Campanella became the first black in the American Association, stopping at
St. Paul before permanently joining Robinson on the Dodgers. Newcombe and
Bankhead each won more than 20 games for Brooklyn affiliates. The Dodgers
also added fleet-footed Sam Jethroe to the Montreal roster, where he batted
.322. The Indians also began to stockpile black talent, signing future major
leaguers Al Smith, Dave Hoskins, and Orestes "Minnie" Minoso to minor league
contracts. Several other blacks, including San Diego catcher John Ritchey,
who broke the Pacific Coast League color line, played for independent teams.
     In the interregnum between the 1948 and 1949 seasons four more teams--the
Giants, Yankees, Braves, and Cubs--signed blacks to play in their farm
systems, and 1949 would herald the beginning of widespread integration in the
minor leagues. Blacks starred in all three Triple A leagues. In the Pacific
Coast League, Luke Easter won acclaim as the "greatest natural hitter
. . . since Ted Williams," amassing 25 home runs and 92 runs-batted-in in just
80 games before succumbing to a knee injury. Oakland's Artie Wilson led the
league in hits, stolen bases, and batting average. In the International
League, Jethroe scored 151 runs and stole 89 bases while Montreal teammate Dan
Bankhead won 20 games for the second straight year. At Jersey City, Monte
Irvin batted .373. The outstanding performer in the American Association was
Ray Dandridge. Considered by many the greatest third baseman of all time, the
acrobatic Dandridge, now in his late 30s, thrilled Minneapolis fans with his
spectacular fielding, batting .364 in the process. Former Negro Leaguers
turned in equally stellar performances at lower minor league levels as well.
     In the major leagues, the spotlight again returned to Jackie Robinson.
For three years, Robinson had honored his pledge to Branch Rickey "to turn the
other cheek" and avoid confrontations. With his position in the majors firmly
established, Robinson announced, "They better be prepared to be rough this
year, because I'm going to be rough on them."  The more combative Robinson
produced his finest year, batting .342 and earning the Most Valuable Player
Award. Complemented by teammates Newcombe and Campanella, Robinson led the
Dodgers to another pennant.
     By the end of the 1949 season, integration had achieved spectacular
success at both the major and minor league level, but most teams moved "with
all deliberate speed" in signing black players. The New York Giants joined
the interracial ranks in 1949 when they promoted Monte Irvin and Hank
Thompson. The following year, the Boston Braves purchased Jethroe from the
Dodgers for $100,000 and installed him in the starting lineup. In 1951, the
Chicago White Sox acquired Minnie Minoso in a trade with Cleveland, and Bill
Veeck, who had acquired the hapless St. Louis Browns, brought back Satchel
Paige for another major league stint. Yet, as late as August 1953, out of
sixteen major league teams only these six fielded black players. Several
teams displayed an interest in signing blacks but bypassed established Negro
League stars who might have jumped directly to the majors, concentrating
instead on younger prospects for the minor leagues. Still others like the Red
Sox, Phillies, Cardinals, and Tigers continued to pursue a whites-only policy.
     This failure to hire and promote blacks occurred amidst a continuing
backdrop of outstanding performances by black players. The first generation
of players from the Negro Leagues proved an extraordinary group. Jackie
Robinson quickly established himself as one of the dominant stars in the
national pastime, compiling a .311 batting average over his 10-year career
while thrilling fans with his baserunning and clutch-hitting talents.
Sportswriters called him, "the most dangerous man in baseball today."
Campanella won accolades as the best catcher in the National League and won
the Most Valuable Player Award in 1951, 1953, and 1955. Both Campanella and
Robinson later won election to the Baseball Hall of Fame. Pitcher Don
Newcombe averaged better than 20 wins a season during his first five full
years with the Dodgers. In addition, from 1950-1953 Negro League graduates
Sam Jethroe, Willie Mays, Joe Black, and Jim Gilliam each won the National
League Rookie of the Year Award.
     In the American League, where integration proceeded at a slower pace,
several players compiled outstanding records. Larry Doby, while never
achieving the superstar status many expected, nonetheless became a steady
producer, twice leading the league in home runs and five times driving in more
than 100 runs. His Cleveland teammate Luke Easter, who reached the majors in
his mid-30s, slugged 86 home runs and drove in 300 runs in his brief
three-season career. Satchel Paige, after a two-year stint with the Indians,
joined the hapless St. Louis Browns from 1951-1953 and became one of the
American League's best relief pitchers. On the Chicago White Sox, Minnie
Minoso proved himself a consistent .300 hitter. Despite their relatively
small numbers, teams with black players in both major leagues regularly
finished high in the standings and only in 1950 did both pennant winners field
all-white squads. In addition, the more aggressive stance of National League
teams in recruiting black players gave that circuit a clear superiority in
World Series and All-Star contests for more than two decades.
     By the end of the 1953 season, the benefits of integration had grown
apparent to all but the most recalcitrant of major league owners. In
September, the Chicago Cubs purchased shortstop Ernie Banks from the Kansas
City Monarchs and finally elevated longtime minor league standout Gene Baker.
Connie Mack's Philadelphia Athletics ended their Jim Crow era by acquiring
pitcher Bob Trice. At the start of the 1954 season, the Washington Senators,
St. Louis Cardinals, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Cincinnati Reds all joined the
interracial ranks. The sudden integration of six more clubs left only the
Yankees, Tigers, Phillies, and Red Sox with all-white personnel. In addition,
1954 marked the debut of young Henry Aaron with the Braves and the return of
Willie Mays, who had sparkled for the Giants in 1951, from military service.
     The desegregation of organized baseball opened the way not only to blacks
in the United States but to those in other parts of the Americas as well.
Throughout the 20th century, baseball had imposed a curious double standard on
Latin players, accepting those with light complexions but rejecting their
darker countrymen. With the color barrier down, major league clubs found a
wealth of talent in the Carribbean. Minnie Minoso, the "Cuban Comet" who
integrated the Chicago White Sox, became the first of the great Latin stars.
Over a 15-year career, Minoso compiled a .298 batting average. In 1954,
slick-fielding Puerto Rican Vic Power launched his career with the Athletics.
The following year, Roberto Clemente, the greatest of the Latin stars, debuted
with the Pittsburgh Pirates. The proud Puerto Rican won four batting
championships and amassed 3,000 hits en route to a .317 lifetime batting
average. In the late 1950s, the San Francisco Giants revealed the previously
ignored treasure trove that existed in the Dominican Republic. In 1958,
Felipe Alou became the first of three Alou brothers to play for the Giants,
and in 1960 the Giants unveiled pitcher Juan Marichal, "the Dominican Dandy,"
who won 243 games en route to the Hall of Fame.
     Among the early Latin players were two sons of stars of the Jim Crow age.
Perucho Cepeda, who had won renown as "The Bull" in his native Puerto Rico,
had refused to play in the segregated Negro leagues. His son Orlando, dubbed
"The Baby Bull", went on to star for the Giants and Cardinals. Luis Tiant,
Sr., a standout performer in both Cuba and the Negro Leagues, lived to see
Luis, Jr. win over 200 major league games and excel in the 1975 World Series.
     As the major leagues moved slowly toward complete desegregation,
throughout the nation blacks invaded the minor leagues. In the Northern and
Western states, these athletes, a combination of youthful prospects and Negro
League veterans, were greeted by a storm of insults, beanballs, and
discrimination. "I learned more names than I thought we had," states Piper
Davis of his treatment by fans in the Pacific Coast League. At least a
half-dozen blacks had to be carried off the field on stretchers after being
hit by pitches between 1949 and 1951. In city after city, blacks found hotels
and restaurants unwilling to serve them. "At the same time when they signed
blacks and Latins," argues John Roseboro about his Dodger employers, "they
should have made sure they would be welcome."  But neither the Dodgers nor
other clubs provided any special assistance for their black farmhands.
Despite these conditions, blacks compiled remarkable records in league after
league. In the early 1950s, blacks overcame adversity and dominated the lists
of batting leaders at the Triple A level and in many of the lower circuits as
well.
     In 1952, blacks began to appear on minor league clubs in the Jim Crow
South. The Dallas Eagles of the Texas League, hoping to boost sagging
attendance, signed former Homestead Gray pitcher Dave Hoskins to become the
"Jackie Robinson of the Texas League."  Hoskins took the Lone Star State by
storm, attracting record crowds en route to a 22-10 record. The black pitcher
posted a 2.12 earned run average and also finished third in the league in
batting with a .328 mark. By 1955, every Texas League club except Shreveport
fielded black players.
     Hoskins' performance inspired other teams throughout the South to
scramble for black players. In 1953, 19-year-old Henry Aaron desegregated the
South Atlantic League, which included clubs in Florida, Atlanta, and Georgia,
while Bill White appeared in the Carolina League. Playing for Jacksonville (a
city which seven years earlier had barred Jackie Robinson), Aaron "led the
league in everything but hotel accommodations."  By 1954, when the United
States Supreme Court issued its historic Brown v. Board of Education decision
ordering school desegregation, blacks had appeared in most Southern minor
leagues.
     The integration of the South, however, did not proceed without incidents.
Black players recall these years as "an ordeal" or a "sentence" and described
the South as "enemy country" or a "hellhole."  In 1953, the Cotton States
League barred brothers Jim and Leander Tugerson from competing. The following
year, Nat Peeples broke the color line in the Southern Association, but lasted
only two weeks. For the remainder of the decade, the league adhered to a
whites-only policy, a strategy which contributed to the collapse of the
Southern Association in 1961. As resistance to the civil rights movement
mounted in the 1950s, black players found themselves in increasingly hostile
territory. Even in the pioneering Texas League, teams visiting Shreveport,
Louisiana, in 1956 had to leave their black players at home due to stricter
segregation laws.
     In the face of these obstacles, young black stars like Aaron, Curt Flood,
Frank Robinson, Bill White, and Leon Wagner overcame their frustrations "by
taking it out on the ball."  "What had started as a chance to test my baseball
ability in a professional setting," wrote Curt Flood, "had become an
obligation to test myself as a man."  Throughout the 1950s, blacks appeared
regularly among the league leaders of the Texas, South Atlantic, Carolina, and
other circuits, advancing both their own careers and the cause of integration.
     As these events unfolded in the South, the major leagues completed their
long overdue integration process. In 1955, the Yankees, after denying charges
of racism for almost a decade, finally promoted Elston Howard to the parent
club. Two more years passed before the Phillies integrated, and not until
1958 did a black player don a Tiger uniform. Thus, at the start of the 1959
season, only the Boston Red Sox, who had yet to hire either black scouts or
representatives in the Caribbean, retained their Jim Crow heritage. A storm
of protest arose when the Red Sox cut black infielder Elijah "Pumpsie" Green
just before Opening Day, but on July 21, 1959, 12 years and 107 days after
Jackie Robinson's Dodger debut, Green won promotion to the Boston club,
completing the cycle of major league integration.
     While integration became a reality in organized baseball, the Negro
Leagues gradually faded into oblivion. As early as 1947, Negro League
attendance, especially in cities close to National League parks, dropped
precipitously. "People wanted to go Brooklynites," recalls Monarch pitcher
Hilton Smith. "Even if we were playing here in Kansas City, people wanted to
go over to St. Louis to see Jackie."  Negro League owners hoped to offset
declining attendance by selling players to organized baseball, but major
league teams paid what Effa Manley called "bargain basement" prices for
all-star talent. In 1948, the Manleys' Newark Eagles and New York Black
Yankees disbanded. The Homestead Grays severed all league connections and
returned to its roots as a barnstorming unit. Without these teams, the Negro
National League collapsed. A reorganized 10-team Negro American League, most
of whose franchises were located in minor league cities, vowed to go on, but
the spread of integration quickly thinned its ranks. By 1951, the league had
dwindled to six teams. Two years later, only the Birmingham Black Barons,
Memphis Red Sox, Kansas City Monarchs, and Indianapolis Clowns remained.
     For several years in the early 1950s, the Negro Leagues remained a
breeding ground for young black talent. The New York Giants plucked Willie
Mays from the roster of the Birmingham Black Barons, while the Boston Braves
discovered Hank Aaron on the Indianapolis Clowns. The Kansas City Monarchs
produced more than two dozen major leaguers, including Robinson, Paige, Banks,
and Howard. But for most black players, the demise of the Negro Leagues had
disastrous effects. "The livelihoods, the careers, the families of 400 Negro
ballplayers are in jeopardy," complained Effa Manley in 1948, "because four
players were successful in getting into the major leagues."  The slow pace of
integration left most in a state of limbo set adrift by their former teams,
but still unwelcomed in organized baseball. Some players like Buck Leonard
and Cool Papa Bell were too old to be considered, while others like Ray
Dandridge and Piper Davis found themselves relegated to the minor leagues,
where outstanding records failed to win them promotion.
     Throughout the 1950s the Negro American League struggled to survive,
recruiting teenagers and second-rate talent for the modest four-team loop. In
1963, Kansas City hosted the 30th and last East-West All-Star Game and the
following year the famed Monarchs ceased touring the nation. By 1965, the
Indianapolis Clowns remained as a last vestige of Jim Crow baseball.
Utilizing white as well as black players, the Clowns continued for another
decade. "We are all show now," explained their owner. "We clown, clown,
clown."
     But the legacy of the Negro Leagues remained. Robinson and other early
black players introduced new elements of speed and "tricky baseball" into the
major leagues, transforming and improving the quality of play. Since 1947,
blacks have led the National League in stolen bases in all but two seasons.
In the American League, a black or Latin baserunner has topped the league
every year since 1951 with only two exceptions. Nor did this injection of
speed come at the expense of power. In the 1950s and 1960s, Hank Aaron,
Willie Mays, and Frank Robinson reigned as the greatest power hitters in
baseball. Thus, by the 1960s, the national pastime more closely resembled the
well-balanced offensive structure of the Negro Leagues than the unidimensional
power-oriented attack that had typified the all-white majors.
     The demise of the Negro Leagues and the decline of segregation in the
majors, however, did not end discrimination. Conditions on and off the field,
in spring training and in the executive suites, repeatedly reminded the black
athletes of their second-class status. In the early 1950s, all-white teams
taunted their black opponents with racial insults. Blacks like Jackie and
Frank Robinson, Minnie Minoso and Luke Easter repeatedly appeared among the
league leaders in being hit by pitches. While black superstars like Willie
Mays had little difficulty ascending to the major leagues, players of only
slightly above average talent found themselves buried for years in the minors.
Many observers charged that teams had imposed quotas on the number of blacks
they would field at one time.
     In cities like St. Louis, Washington, D.C., and, later, Baltimore, black
ballplayers could not stay at hotels with their teammates. In 1954, they
achieved a breakthrough of sorts when the luxury Chase Hotel in St. Louis
informed Jackie Robinson and other Dodger players that they could room there,
but had to refrain from using the dining room or swimming pool or loitering in
the lobby. Ten years later, the hotel had removed these restrictions, but
still relegated black players, according to Hank Aaron, to rooms "looking out
over some old building or some green pastures or a blank wall, so nobody can
see us through a window."
     Blacks faced even greater discrimination each year in spring training in
Florida. While all spring training sites now accepted blacks, segregation
statutes and local traditions forced them to live in all-black boarding houses
far from the luxury air-conditioned hotels which accommodated white players.
"The whole set-up is wrong," protested Jackie Robinson. "There is no reason
why we shouldn't be able to live with our teammates."  When teams traveled
from place to place, blacks could not join their fellow players in
restaurants. Instead they had to wait on the bus until someone brought their
food out to them. Some teams attempted to reduce the problems faced by
blacks. Several clubs moved to Arizona, where conditions were only moderately
improved. The Dodgers built a special spring training camp at Vero Beach
where players could live together. Most organizations, however, did very
little to assist their black employees.
     By the time that Jackie Robinson retired in 1956, conditions had barely
improved. "After 10 years of traveling in the South," he charged, "I don't
think advances have been fast enough. It's my belief that baseball itself
hasn't done all it can to remedy the problems faced by . . . players."  Over
the next decade, a new generation of black players militantly demanded change.
Cardinal stars Bill White, Curt Flood, and Bob Gibson protested against
conditions in St. Petersburg, while Aaron and other black Braves demanded
changes in Bradenton. In many instances, however, significant changes awaited
passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1965 barring segregation in public
facilities.
     By 1960, Robinson, Campanella, Doby, and the cadre of Negro League
veterans who had formed the vanguard of baseball integration had retired. In
their wake, a second generation of black players, most of whom had never
appeared in the Negro Leagues, made most Americans forget that Jim Crow
baseball had ever existed, as they shattered longstanding "unbreakable"
records. In 1962, black shortstop Maury Wills stole 104 bases, eclipsing Ty
Cobb's 47-year-old stolen base mark. Twelve years later, outfielder Lou Brock
stole 118 bases en route to breaking Cobb's career stolen-base record as well.
In 1966, Frank Robinson, who had won the National League Most Valuable Player
Award in 1961, became the first player to win that honor in both leagues when
he led the Baltimore Orioles to the American League pennant. By the end of
his career, Robinson had slugged 586 home runs; only Babe Ruth among players
of the Jim Crow era had hit more. Both Ernie Banks and Willie McCovey also
amassed more than 500 home runs during this era. On the pitcher's mound, the
indomitable Bob Gibson proved himself one of the greatest strikeout pitchers
in the game's history. Upon retirement, Gibson had amassed more strikeouts
than anyone except Walter Johnson. Brock, Frank Robinson, Banks, McCovey, and
Gibson all won election to the Hall of Fame in their first year of
eligibility.
     The greatness of these players notwithstanding, two other black players,
Willie Mays and Hank Aaron, both of whom ironically had begun their careers in
the Negro Leagues, reigned as the dominant stars of baseball in the 1950s and
1960s. Originally signed by the Birmingham Black Barons of the Negro American
League, Mays had joined the New York Giants in midseason 1951, sparking their
triumph in the most famous pennant race in history and winning the Rookie of
the Year Award. After two years in the military, he returned in 1954 to bat a
league-leading .345 and hit 41 home runs. The following year, he pounded 51
homers. A spectacular center fielder, Mays won widespread acclaim as the
greatest all-around player in the history of the game. In 1969, he became
only the second player in major league history to hit 600 home runs and took
aim at Babe Ruth's legendary lifetime total of 714. Over the next four
seasons, the aging Mays added 60 more homers before retiring short of Ruth's
record.
     Unlike Mays, who had begun his career amidst the glare of the New York
media, Hank Aaron had spent his career first in Milwaukee and later in
Atlanta, far distant from the center of national publicity. Nonetheless, he
steadily compiled record-threatening statistics in almost every offensive
category. In 1972, at age 38, he surpassed Mays' home run total and set his
sights on Ruth. Entering the 1973 season, he needed just 41 home runs to
catch the Babe. Performing under tremendous pressure and fanfare, Aaron
stroked 40 homers, leaving him just one shy of the record. He tied Ruth's
mark with his first swing of the 1974 season. Three days later, on April 8,
1974, a nationwide television audience watched Aaron stroke home run number
715. Babe Ruth's "unreachable" record thus fell to a man whose career had
started with the Indianapolis Clowns of the Negro Leagues. When Aaron retired
in 1976, he boasted 755 home runs and held major league records for games
played, at-bats, runs batted in and extra-base hits. He also ranked second to
Ty Cobb in hits and runs scored.
     By the 1970s, black players had become an accepted part of the baseball
scene and regularly ranked among the most well-known symbols of the sport.
Reggie Jackson, Willie Stargell, and Joe Morgan had succeeded Aaron, Mays, and
the Robinsons as Hall of Fame caliber superstars. Yet three decades after
Jackie Robinson had broken the color barrier, racism and discrimination
remained a persistent problem for baseball. Several studies demonstrated that
baseball management channeled blacks into positions thought to require less
thinking and fewer leadership qualities. In 1968, blacks accounted for more
than half of the major league outfielders, but only 20 percent of other
position players. Black catchers were rare and fewer than one in 10 pitchers
were black. By 1986, the disparity had grown greater. American-born blacks
comprised 70 percent of all outfield positions but only 7 percent of all
pitcher, second basemen, and third basemen positions. There were no
American-born black catchers in the major leagues at the start of the 1986
season.
     While superior black players had open access to the major leagues, those
of average or slightly above average skills often found their paths blocked.
"The Negro player may have to be better qualified than a white player to win
the same position," argued Aaron Rosenblatt in 1967. "The undistinguished
Negro player is less likely to play in the major leagues than the equally
undistinguished white player."  Rosenblatt demonstrated that black major
leaguers on the whole batted 20 points higher than whites. As batting
averages dropped, so did the proportion of blacks. This trend continued into
the 1980s. A 1982 study revealed that 70 percent of all black non-pitchers
were everyday starters, indicating a substantial bias against blacks who
filled utility or pinch-hitting roles. Statistics compiled in 1986 showed a
strikingly similar pattern.
     The subtle nature of this on-the-field discrimination obscured it from
public controversy. The failure of baseball to provide jobs for blacks in
managerial and front office positions, however, became an increasing
embarrassment. In the early years of integration, baseball executives
bypassed the substantial pool of experienced Negro Leaguers from consideration
for managerial and coaching positions. A handful of blacks, including Sam
Bankhead, Nate Moreland, Marvin Williams, and Chet Brewer managed independent,
predominantly all-black teams in the minor leagues. The first generation of
black major leaguers fared no better. "We bring dollars into club treasuries
when we play," exclaimed Larry Doby, "but when we stop playing, our dollars
stop."  No major league organization hired a black pilot at any level until
1961 when the Pittsburgh Pirates placed Gene Baker at the helm of their
Batavia franchise. By the mid-1960s no blacks had managed in the majors and
only two had held full-time major league coaching positions. The first black
umpire did not appear in the majors until 1966, when Emmett Ashford appeared
in the American League.
     In the final years of his life, Jackie Robinson made repeated pleas for
baseball to eliminate these lingering vestiges of Jim Crow. "I'd like to live
to see a black manager," he stated before a national television audience at
the 1972 World Series. Nine days later he died, his dream unfulfilled. In
1975, the Cleveland Indians hired Frank Robinson to be the first black major
league manager. This precedent, however, opened few new doors. Robinson
lasted two-and-a-half seasons with the Indians, later managed the San
Francisco Giants for four years, and in 1988 was made manager of the Baltimore
Orioles. Maury Wills and Larry Doby each had brief half-season stints as
managers. After four decades of integration, only these three men had
received major league managerial opportunities.
     A similar situation existed in major league front offices. Only one
black man, Bill Lucas of the Atlanta Braves, had served as a general manager.
As late as 1982, a survey of 24 clubs (the Yankees and Red Sox refused to
provide information) found that of 913 available white-collar baseball jobs,
blacks held just 32 positions. Among 568 full-time major league scouts, only
15 were black. While many teams hired former players as announcers, few
employed blacks in these roles. Five years later, conditions had not
improved. Of the top 879 administrative positions in baseball only 17 were
filled by blacks and 15 by Hispanics. Four teams in California--the Dodgers,
Giants, Athletics, and Angels--accounted for almost two-thirds of the minority
hiring. Ten out of 14 American League teams, and five of 12 National League
franchises had no blacks in management positions.
     These shortcomings came to haunt baseball in 1987. Commissioner Peter
Ueberroth had dedicated the season to the commemoration of the fortieth
anniversary of Jackie Robinson's major league debut. As the celebration
began, Los Angeles Dodger general manager Al Campanis, who had played with
Robinson at Montreal, appeared on ABC-TV's Nightline. When asked about the
dearth of black managers, Campanis explained that blacks "may not have some of
the necessities to be, let's say, a field manager or general manager."
Campanis' statement, which surely reflected the thinking of many baseball
executives, evoked a storm of protest, and precipitated his resignation. An
embarrassed Ueberroth pledged to take action to bring more blacks into
leadership positions and hired University of California sociologist Harry
Edwards to facilitate the process. Fifty blacks and Latins with past or
present connections to baseball created their own Minority Baseball Network to
apprise blacks of employment opportunities and to lobby clubs to recruit more
minorities for front office jobs.
     When the controversy of 1987 had subsided, few franchises had taken
significant steps to increase minority hiring. Several clubs added blacks to
administrative positions, but none offered field or general manager positions
to nonwhite candidates. In 1988 Frank Robinson received his third chance to
manage in the major leagues, this time with the Baltimore Orioles. At
midseason 1989 Cito Gaston assumed the reins of the Toronto Blue Jays. When
the squads managed by Robinson and Gaston had their initial confrontation, it
marked, after 40 years of integration, the first time that two teams managed
by black men had competed in a major league game. Fittingly, on the final
weekend of the season, the Orioles and Blue Jays met face-to-face in a series
to decide the championship of the American League Eastern Division. The
spectacle offered a resounding rebuke to the shortsightedness and persistent
discrimination that continues to plague the national pastime.
     By the 1993 season baseball seemed to have finally made some real
progress in including minorities in its managerial ranks.  The season saw five
black and Hispanic field managers: Gaston, who after five years at the helm of
the Blue Jays ranks as one of the most successful managers in baseball
history, winning four divisional championships, two pennants and two world
championships; Felipe Alou, who led the Montreal Expos to consecutive second
place finishes; Dusty Baker, who became the winningest rookie manager ever,
when his San Francisco Giants won 103 games (after winning only 72 games the
year before); Don Baylor, who piloted the expansion Colorado Rockies; and Tony
Perez, who started the season as the manager of the Cincinnati Reds.  At the
season's end, the Houston Astros named Bob Watson their general manager,
making him the second black man to assume these responsibilities.
     These undeniable gains, however, occurred against a backdrop of
continuing racial controversy.  During preceding seasons, several of the
game's top black stars had complained about unequal treatment of black
players; and many observers voiced concern about the miniscule level of black
attendance and the declining numbers of United States-born blacks in the game.
     Allegations that Cincinnati Reds owner Marge Schott had repeatedly used
racial slurs (and that other owners had ignored these offenses) led to her
suspension in 1993.  When the Reds first hired, then unceremoniously fired,
Perez as manager after a poor start, it appeared that the team had shamefully
manipulated a local hero to evade charges of discrimination.
     During the early 1990s baseball undertook several initiatives to improve
its image among minorities.  The major leagues embraced John Young's RBI
("Reviving Baseball in the Inner Cities") program, an effort to interest black
youth in baseball, which was already supported by franchises in Cincinnati,
Los Angeles and New York.  Attempts were also made to secure health benefits
for surviving Negro League players and to gain Hall of Fame recognition for
more stars from the Jim Crow era.  Nonetheless, as baseball neared the
fiftieth anniversary of the signing of Jackie Robinson, issues of race and
discrimination remained as a persistent reminder of the legacy of the past and
challenges of the present.