MLB, owners strike out in upholding Robinson’s legacy
Change was supposed to begin with Jackie Robinson, not begin and effectively end.
As Major League Baseball marks the 75th anniversary of Robinson breaking the color barrier Friday, there will be no shortage of people patting themselves on the back for the watershed moment, which helped usher in the civil rights movement and changed American society for the better. But as you watch these league officials and team owners bask in their self-satisfaction, ask what they have done since then to build on Robinson’s sacrifice.
Why do the number of Black players and managers remain so stubbornly low? Where are the Black fans? Why are Black players still subjected to racism at certain ballparks? What are the odds of a Black majority owner anytime soon? Can baseball really say it’s more inclusive than it was 20 years ago? Or even 50?
Or, 75 years after Robinson stepped over that white line, are we simply having different versions of the same, tired conversations? And do the supposed stewards of the game even care?
“Nothing has really moved in a positive direction,” said Louis Moore, a history professor at Grand Valley State and author of “We Will Win the Day: The Civil Rights Movement, the Black Athlete and the Quest for Equality.”
“There’s no will to do anything right. To fix the problems,” Moore said. “Whether it’s about Black fandom, leadership, ownership, they’re just content with taking what’s there.”
Robinson didn’t simply integrate baseball. He opened Americans’ eyes to the idea of what was possible. If he could play in a league that had so thoroughly belonged to whites, then Black people could overcome obstacles in other industries. If white and Black baseball players could live and work alongside one another, so, too, could everyday Americans.
It’s simplistic to say it was Robinson’s presence in the majors alone that erased the hatred and bigotry that has tainted this country since its founding. It’s also unfair to Martin Luther King, John Lewis and the thousands of others who protested, marched, bled and even died for equality.
But baseball was America’s pastime, played and followed in every corner of this country. Robinson’s presence was a gateway to, if not equality, tolerance. Within a decade of his first game with the Dodgers, the landmark Civil Rights and Voting Rights acts had passed.
By no means did racism or segregation die in the 1960s. Black and brown people still earn less, and are less likely to have access to mortgages and loans. They are more likely to be subject to biased policing, and are prosecuted and sentenced at higher rates.
On Wednesday night, people took to the streets of Grand Rapids, Michigan to protest yet another killing of a Black man by police.
But it’s as if baseball thought its work was completed with Robinson, rather than just beginning.
It’s been 50 years since Robinson, speaking at a ceremony before Game 2 of the World Series, called baseball out for not having any Black managers. Yet there are still only two Black managers in the 30-team league, Dusty Baker and Dave Roberts.
Four other managers are Latino.
The dwindling number of Black fans, and the continued hostility of white fans to Black players at some ballparks, has been an issue since the 1970s. Yet baseball has done little to address it.
“They’re not trying to figure out why,” Moore said. “They’ve just written it off.”
Some teams even seem to be actively embracing a return to the close-mindedness of the segregation era.
The Atlanta Braves have insisted their move to a stadium in a predominately white suburb was because it offered better parking and access to mass transportation. Yet it’s impossible to ignore the fact they fled a stadium located in a predominantly Black neighborhood, and their defenses sound awfully similar to those given during the “white flight” exodus.
Like any sport, the pursuit of equality in baseball will only go so far as those in charge demand. And it’s clear MLB owners, like their counterparts in the NFL and, to a lesser degree, the NBA, have little interest in the work required to keep pushing their sport and country toward a better place.
Oh, they’ll make a show of their diversity initiatives every April 15 and express reverence for Robinson’s continued influence on baseball’s conscience. But there is no Branch Rickey or Nick Mileti in the ranks, someone so committed to doing the right thing that they’re willing to buck the status quo and risk the ire of the fan base.
Instead, they’re content to count their millions, not caring that as their sport becomes more and more insular, it becomes less and less relevant to an increasingly large part of America.
“They’re not building and trying to get the next Jackie Robinson,” Moore said. “Or trying to make this truly the American game again.”
When Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier on April 15, 1947, it was a promise of what baseball, and this country, could be. Seventy five years later, the day shows how far baseball, and this country, have fallen short.