Rickey & Robinson
Page 28
Branch Rickey’s final question abides.
The New York Times continued its inaccurate and negative reporting on Jackie Robinson into the 21st century. On April 14, 2007, it published a so-called op-ed article asserting that Pee Wee Reese’s memorable embrace of Jackie Robinson was “a myth.”
That embrace took place at Crosley Field in Cincinnati on the Dodgers’ first visit there in 1947. Fans, many from across the Ohio River in segregated Kentucky, began jeering Robinson, who was playing first base during infield practice. A number of Cincinnati ballplayers followed suit. Robinson set his teeth and made no response. At length Pee Wee Reese raised a hand, stopping the drill. Then he walked over from shortstop and put an arm about Robinson’s broad shoulders. He said nothing, but simply stared the racists into silence. “After that happened,” Robinson told me, “I never felt alone on a ball field again.”
The Times writer was an obscure journalist named Stuart Miller, who had published a book called The 100 Greatest Days in New York Sports. The Times headlined the story “Breaking the Truth Barrier.” As I say, the Miller article ran on April 14; a week later the Times published two corrections. Miller had misplaced Eddie Stanky’s birthplace by 1,200 miles and he had misspelled the name of the Boston Braves star first baseman, Earl Torgeson. Miller then argued that Reese’s embrace, if it happened at all, occurred in Boston. But Robinson himself told the sportscaster Jack Buck the place was Cincinnati. Reese, as we’ve seen, expansively confirmed that to me.
At the Herald Tribune long ago I was taught “If you didn’t write something yourself, then don’t deny it.” But today the New York Times is archived and its reportage can be found in most libraries. To let Miller’s sloppy little op-ed story become part of history is unacceptable.
Jackie Robinson played 10 seasons for the Brooklyn Dodgers, and during that time the team won the National League pennant six times. In its entire pre-Robinson history, stretching back to the 19th century, the Brooklyn team previously had finished first on only three occasions: 1916, 1920 and 1941.
Robinson’s best single season came in 1949, when he was 30. He led the league in hitting at .349, and stolen bases with 37, including 5 steals of home. Following his rookie season he played second base into the mid-1950s, then moved to third and put in some time as an outfielder. After the Dodgers had clinched the pennant in 1952, I covered a game where Robinson played every position but pitcher. It was a publicity stunt, of course, but interesting. He made no errors anywhere.
One of Robinson’s fortes was baserunning (as opposed simply to base stealing). He went from first to third on an infield out at least 10 times. He always took a daring lead off first. “If the pitcher throws and I don’t have to dive back,” he told me, “then I haven’t taken a big enough lead.” I saw him pivot on hundreds of double plays, but I never saw a baserunner crash into him. Never. “I’ll tell you why,” he said. “I’m fast. I get to second before the runner. Then I feint. He slides toward my feint. I move the other way and throw on to first.” He was a brilliant student of the art of playing baseball.
After the 1956 season, when age and diabetes were slowing Robinson, O’Malley told Buzzie Bavasi, “Get rid of him.” Among other things, this may have been a final jab at Robinson’s sponsor and O’Malley’s adversary, Branch Rickey.
That December Bavasi dealt Robinson’s contract to the New York Giants for $50,000 and rights to a journeyman left-handed pitcher named Dick Littlefield. O’Malley then dictated a remarkably cynical letter.
Dear Jackie and Rachel:
I do know how you and your youngsters must have felt.
The roads of life have a habit of re-crossing. There could well
be a future intersection. Until then, my best to you both.
With a decade of memories.
Au revoir,
Walter O’Malley
Instead of reporting to the Polo Grounds, Robinson quit. He then sold the announcement of his retirement to Look magazine for $50,000. In a rare burst of public anger Red Smith attacked Robinson “for peddling his retirement announcement.” Jackie responded without raising his voice. “Red Smith doesn’t have to send my kids through college. I do.”
That is as much of the story as has been reported up to now. But on one of my last meetings with Buzzie Bavasi, in his mansion overlooking the deep and dark blue ocean, Bavasi added significant detail. He and O’Malley joined the Dodgers in Milwaukee during a western trip in 1956. The two executives shared a suite at the Hotel Schroeder.
“We were starting downstairs for breakfast,” Bavasi said, “when Robinson came out of a room down the hall with a nice-looking white woman on his arm. It was pretty obvious to us that they had spent the night.”
O’Malley elbowed Bavasi and the two retreated into their suite. O’Malley then said the four fateful words. “Get rid of him.”
I was not on the scene but Bavasi’s story rings true. Jackie always had a keen eye for the ladies. “You know,” he told me once, “more white women want to take me to bed than I’ve got time for.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
“Eat your heart out,” said Jackie Robinson.
After baseball Robinson worked for a chain of fast-food restaurants, a bank, an insurance company and campaigned with Nelson Rockefeller. His particular focus was housing. “Everybody talks about integrated schools,” he said, “but regardless of the schools, if the housing is bad, children are going to hang out on the streets. And find trouble.”
In his last years diabetes left him virtually blind. But he kept going. He was preparing to fly to Washington to lobby for a housing bill on October 24, 1972. Early that morning, in his imposing home on Cascade Road in North Stamford, Connecticut, a heart attack ended his life.
Feeling that the end was coming, Jackie Robinson composed his own epitaph. The words are carved on his stone in Cypress Hills Cemetery, an historic resting place located in Brooklyn. “A life is important only in the impact it has on other lives.” Perhaps one final word is appropriate here.
Amen.
CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF STEALS OF HOME BY JACKIE ROBINSON
THE PIONEERS
FOLLOWING ARE THE FIRST BLACK PLAYERS SIGNED into the major leagues, listed in chronological order by the date of their debut and by team. Daggers indicate eventual election to the Baseball Hall of Fame. I am certain each man has, or would have had, an interesting story to relate. I’d further suggest that for his struggle against bigotry, everyone on this list qualifies as an all-star.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A LONG TIME AGO, IN 1952, THE LATE NEW YORK HERALD Tribune loosed me on the world of organized baseball. Perhaps neither I nor baseball has since been quite the same.
Although in time I covered all three New York teams, I primarily wrote on the Brooklyn Dodgers. They were not the best team of that era. The New York Yankees were. But with Robinson, Rickey and later Walter O’Malley, the old Dodgers were the most interesting of ball clubs.
My friendships with Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey date from that period. Talk during those friendships was a vital source for this book. But significant fresh research was required. Here I benefited from the help of Joseph Bacchi, a star student at a college near my home, SUNY New Paltz.
Mark Weinstein of Rodale brought vigor and intelligence to his task as editor. He has my gratitude. My literary agent Robert Wilson, now of Orlando, Florida, was supportive and helpful throughout.
On a personal level reliving the integration of baseball was quite an experience. In plain English, it made for one hell of a trip.
RK
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ROGER KAHN IS WIDELY REGARDED AS THE GREATEST living American sportswriter. The author of 20 books and hundreds of articles for national magazines, he is the only baseball writer to have had three titles appear on the New York Times bestseller list. His 1972 classic, The Boys of Summer, was named the best baseball book of all time by the editors of Sports Illustrated. Kahn joined the staff
of the New York Herald Tribune as a copy boy in 1948 and rose quickly to the position of baseball writer. He began to cover the Dodgers in 1952, and also traveled with the other New York teams, the Giants and the Yankees. In 1956, Kahn was named sports editor of Newsweek magazine and then from 1963 to 1969 served as editor-at-large of The Saturday Evening Post. For a decade he wrote a monthly column for Esquire magazine. Five times his articles were voted the best in the country and awarded the E.P. Dutton prize. His 1993 book, The Era, was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. Kahn has taught writing at various colleges and lectured at Yale, Princeton and Columbia universities. Mr. Kahn held the distinguished position of Ottaway Professor of Journalism at SUNY New Paltz in the spring of 2004, and in 2006 he was inducted into the National Jewish Sports Hall of Fame. A native of Brooklyn, where he grew up rooting for the Dodgers, he now makes his home in Stone Ridge, New York, with his wife, Katharine.
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Internet addresses and telephone numbers given in this book were accurate at the time it went to press.
Copyright © 2014 by 33 Productions
Ballpark capacities verified by Gary Gillette
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ISBN: 978-1-62336-297-3 hardcover
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