ALLEN
which celebrate its 100th anniversary this year.
He feels privileged to say he’s part of that history.
“You know what it means to me,” Allen said as he started breaking into laughter, “I think it’s been about 60 years since I played — so that makes me old.”
Allen played with the Kansas City Monarchs, Raleigh Tigers and Memphis Red Sox from 1957 to 1959.
Bob Kendrick, president of the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City, Missouri, estimates that there a little more than 100 Negro Leagues players still living.
“I am thrilled that Mr. Allen is still with us,” said Kendrick, who has been president of the museum since 2011. “And he’s still telling his story. And he’s still telling his story of the Negro Leagues because every player who played in the Negro Leagues is important to us.”
And boy, does Allen have stories.
At 84, his mind is sharp, and his stories will have you on the edge of your seat.
Take the time he ended up in Jacksonville, Florida, for a tryout.
Allen had attended a baseball minicamp in Cincinnati. He was there competing with many other players, including a large contingent of Cubans. Allen got cut.
“That was the first time I saw grown men cry,” he said. “All of us knew we were good, but then you go down and see hundreds of folks that were good, too. The day they cut me, I cried and came home.”
While he was there, however, he met Bob Mitchell, who was a pitcher for the Kansas City Monarchs. He invited Allen to come to Jacksonville to attend the Monarchs’ training camp.
“I only had $25,” Allen remembered, “So I bought a $19 one-way ticket to Jacksonville.”
When he got there, the Monarchs were scheduled to play a Jacksonville all-star team, which was short on players. So Allen played with them.
“First time up, I think I got a hit and stole a base,” he said. “Next time up, I struck out. Then I said, ’Sam, you gotta do better than this.’ So, the next time up, I don’t know where I got the strength from, but I hit one over the scoreboard.
“That evening, the man said he didn’t want me beating him anymore and had me sign this contract,” Allen said about Monarchs manager Dizzy Dismukes. “The contract was only worth about $150 a month. I hurried up and signed that. Now I had a place to stay. And he gave me $2 a day in meal money. And I only had $4 and now I had $6.”
Allen said even though times were rough, he enjoyed it because he was playing baseball. He would carry a jar of honey, peanut butter and crackers in his bag to keep from going hungry.
He said you learned other ways to get by.
“If I went in the kitchen and saw (a black cook), I’d wink at her and I’d sit down and eat three plates,” he said, laughing. “When I was on the road, I’d always try to find me a girl who worked at the restaurant so I could get a meal.”
In 1960, Allen was assigned to the Army 82nd Airborne. While he still played baseball and football, he never got a chance to return to the Negro Leagues.
Allen had no hard feelings. “Oh yeah, well, you don’t worry about that (because) I was fortunate enough to play in the Negro Leagues, and we had a lot of fun,” he said. “I just count blessings and count wins. I don’t count losses. I could’ve, would’ve, should’ve all I can do, but what I did, I did enough, I think.”
Kendrick, who calls being president of the museum “a labor of love,” remembers Allen as a player.
“He played very late in the Negro Leagues, but he was a good player,” he said. “And he was one of those players who didn’t get the opportunity.”
After being in the service, Allen worked in tile flooring and as a longshoreman, but baseball was now just a memory.
“When I first walked away from the game, I didn’t think anything would happen,” he said. “I thought I’d just say bye.”
But in 2004, Major League Baseball came up with a plan for Negro Leagues players who played at least four seasons post-1947 to receive an annual pension.
“They told us they were going to give us money,” Allen said with his eyes open in shock. “He told me the amount and I said, ‘How much did you say?’ I asked him about four times because I didn’t believe the amount. … I was 82 when I got it. I could have been dead and not got a dime.”
Kendrick said he’s glad MLB honored the Negro Leagues players this way.
“I think it was a wonderful gesture on baseball’s part because then it was this unwritten rule that bans many of those talented players from having an opportunity to have a major league career,” he said. “So many of these players needed that support. It can help them and their families. So it’s been significant for sure.”
Allen has been honored in many other ways. He’s been to the Library of Congress when it honored the Negro Leagues. He’s been to the White House when the 60th anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s breaking baseball’s color line was commemorated. He was honored by the City of Norfolk in a celebration that featured Negro Leagues legend Buck O’Neil in 2004. He was inducted into the Tidewater Baseball Shrine and Hampton Roads African-American Sports Hall of Fame. And he has a copper pass that allows him to attend any professional baseball field in the country.
And there’s talk about naming Booker T. Washington’s baseball field after him if Ashley Avery has his way. He said they are still waiting on the Norfolk School Board to vote.
“It should be automatic,” said Avery, president of Booker T. Washington Friends and Alumni Foundation.
Kendrick said seeing Allen and other Negro Leagues players get their due, especially in this 100th anniversary, is important.
“I think we want them to be remembered for the pride, the passion, the courage, the determination, the perseverance that they demonstrated in the face of adversity,” said Kendrick, who also came up with the “Tip Your Cap” campaign to commemorate the Negro Leagues’ 100th anniversary. “I think that’s why the story that we portray at the Negro Leagues Museum is so important because it’s not about the adversity, but rather what they did to overcome the adversity.”
Larry Rubama, 757-575-6449, larry.rubama@ pilotonline.com