A march for justice
Sacred Heart AD Valentine took to the streets Wednesday with hundreds of other demonstrators
Bobby Valentine was one of the hundreds of protesters Wednesday night who gathered in Scalzi Park and marched through the streets of Stamford to the police headquarters.
“Look, I’m a Stamfordite,” Valentine said. “There is something happening in Stamford that boggles me, and I made it there to see what was going on. I also was there to march for the same reason I have lived my entire life. And that’s justice for all.”
Valentine saw the video of Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin kneel on George Floyd’s neck for nearly nine minutes and slowly, without emotion, snuff the life from him. We all have. Protests would erupt across the country, carrying through this weekend, and the one in Stamford was organized by The March for Justice, a group of black social workers.
“I’m a human,” Valentine said. “I thought exactly what everyone else thought. It was the most despicable thing I’d ever seen in my life. I thought, how could this possibly be happening in 2020 in the United States of America?”
Valentine’s list of sports accomplishments is long, of course. He may be the greatest all-around athlete in Connecticut high school history. He was Minor League Baseball Player of the Year in 1970, played in the majors for a decade, an immense talent derailed at 23 when he caught his spikes in the outfield fence and suffered a gruesome broken right leg. He managed the Rangers. He man
aged the Mets to the 2000 World Series and the Red Sox in a turbulent 2012. He managed in Japan. Twice. No less than USC coach John McKay thought he could be the next O.J. Simpson as a running back.
He also has been director of public safety and health for Stamford, an analyst for ESPN, represented CBSSports.com in its fantasy sports business. He has had restaurant-bars in Stamford; Windsor Locks; Arlington, Texas; and Middletown, R.I., and — without a doubt — invented the sandwich wrap. He has been athletic director at Sacred Heart University since 2013 and, long ago, was a ballroom dance champion. Eclectic only begins to describe him. New York will not forget his leadership, involvement and unifying impact in the weeks following Sept. 11, 2001.
So here on Wednesday night was Valentine joining the protesters who stopped at Columbus Park where they were met by David Martin. The mayor shared his shock and outrage at Floyd’s cruel, needless death, which has led to the arrest of four policemen. He paraphrased Bob Dylan’s words from “Blowin’ in the Wind,” ending with “How many ears must one person have, before he can hear George Floyd cry, ‘I can’t breathe?’ ”
Justice for Floyd and fundamental changes will begin to answer that question.
The demonstration remained peaceful yet, as Tatiana Flowers of Hearst Connecticut Media reported, some protesters grew angry outside the police department when officers did not come outside to answer to them. They chanted “Take a knee!” A few inside did. Some thought a few officers were smirking and laughing, although police chief Timothy Shaw told Flowers he did not see any.
“Sometimes you have to get real loud to get some people’s attention,” Valentine said. “I hope being peaceful and being unified like it seemed everyone was the other night, but also being loud can possibly get everyone’s attention. This is a real situation I’ve been struggling with just about all of my life and disappointed I haven’t been able to do more. I’m hopeful that this generation I saw in the streets the other night, for the most, can do more than my generation was able to do.”
Valentine, 70, remembered back to his sixthgrade class in Stamford when he estimated it was 50-50 white and children of color.
“I really had no idea of the racial temperature of the rest of the country until I was like 19 in Florida (at spring training with the Dodgers),” Valentine said. “I went, ‘Oh, my goodness, what is this all about?’ First barroom fight I ever got into was in Florida. I was underage. They were going to serve me. They weren’t going to serve the two black guys that I went in with. They didn’t serve them, but we served up a little something before we left, I guarantee you that.
“On my recruiting trip to Southern California, a three-day recruiting trip, I was thrown into it. Watts was right next door to the USC campus. One of the nights, some of the guys said, ‘Hey, let’s go out. We’re going to walk.’ Bobby Kennedy. Martin Luther King. You had the Vietnam situation. I was a young guy. I was growing my hair long, trying to get our boys and gals out of Vietnam. I was looking for as much equality and justice as possible. I do the same now.”
Valentine managed groups of white, black, Latin American and Asian players. Stamford, New York, the baseball world knows him. As he walked Wednesday night, with a mask on, the great numbers of young people holding up signs and chanting didn’t recognize him in his hometown. It wasn’t until after he tweeted a few videos, one with the words, “Great job by Stamford Police!! Stay Strong Stamford!!” that the public became aware.
“I was talking with a lot of the young kids,” Valentine said. “They didn’t know who I was and they didn’t need to. They have threequarters of their life to live. I’ve already lived threequarters, at least. They have to feel different when they are my age, that they accomplished something that that needs to be accomplished.”
Eventually, as COVID-19 dictates, there will be hundreds of students and athletes returning to the Sacred Heart campus. Many are people of color. This emotional and moral tidal wave that has hit the nation doesn’t figure to subside soon. It is at the front of Valentine’s mind. Already, he said the athletic department is down the road on how to meet the challenges and possibilities. There have been memos. There have been Zoom meetings.
“My last one was to get the coaches to speak how they feel,” Valentine said. “We’ll have another one. This is raw. This is not a playbook that everybody wants to play by. In order to have everyone playing the same play, knowing what to do and how to do it, you need trust in the leadership. I’m just trying to get my department to trust me that I care about them enough to try to lead them in the right direction.
“I am confused as to exactly when the end is going to be. I’m hoping and praying that those who see things the wrong way can see things the right way. It’s not about color. It’s about humanity. I don’t know how it’s going to happen. I don’t have that magic wand. This has to be done. If we, as a country, don’t accomplish it in my lifetime, it will be the biggest regret going into my grave.”