By Geoff Walter / SNY.tv

 

 

There are two men every child who plays baseball should and probably do know: Babe Ruth and Jackie Robinson. The former is an obvious choice, as the first baseball player children often are told about is the man simply referred to as "The Babe." Indeed, there are probably as many photographs of Ruth with children as hitting homeruns. This week however, you will hear a lot about the latter. In case you haven't heard, all of this is leading up to Sunday's festivities commemorating the 60th anniversary of Robinson's first game with the Brooklyn Dodgers, where one player on every Major League club will wear No. 42, and all members of the Dodgers will wear the only number to be retired throughout baseball as well. Mariano Rivera already has the distinction of being the last remaining active player to display the prestigious double-digit for the Yankees, and manager Willie Randolph will don the hallowed numeral for the Mets. Here's your chance to see my take on Robinson's legacy, and respond with some thoughts of your own.

Many will extoll his sociological contributions, primarily about how he was the first man to break the color barrier in sports, noting how Robinson made possible the entrance of so many Hall of Famers -- Reggie Jackson, Willie Mays, Frank Robinson (no relation), and Hank Aaron (and by extension, for good or ill, Barry Bonds) to name a few.

Others will cite his .311 career average, which would have earned him a spot in the Hall of Fame alone, as well as being incredibly adept at stealing home plate -- the most infamous being on Yankees catcher Yogi Berra during Game 1 of the 1955 World Series and getting the call from umpire Bill Summers (when photos clearly show Robinson to be out by a mile).

Robinson chose to retire after the 1956 season, not even bothering to report after he was traded by the Dodgers to the New York Giants for Dick Littlefield and $30,000 cash. He wanted to be either a manager or coach in the Majors, but was denied yet again, receiving no offers from any club. Before his death in 1972 from heart problems, Robinson had expressed a wish that a black manager be hired by a Major League club, which was granted when Frank Robinson was hired by the Indians after the 1974 season.

While no one will argue that the breaking of the color barrier wasn't a good thing, some wonder what Robinson's impact is 60 years after the fact. Several generations of players and fans have known nothing but an integrated sports world, taking some comfort in the fact that skin tone or racial background no longer is any measure of a player's success or failure. However, Robinson wasn't the type to let anyone get comfortable, maybe because he was never comfortable.

The heckles, catcalls, and jeers experienced by today's players pale in comparison to what Robinson experienced, who in addition to having racial slurs and stereotypes hurled at him, was actually spit on, and suffered constant threats to his life while on the road.

Robinson never verbally fought back, never got into a fist fight with a bunch of fans in the seats who in his mind went one step too far over the line or touched on a taboo subject. More so, he let his bat, his arm, his glove, and his legs say on the field what he wouldn't let his mouth.

Jackie Robinson saved his breath for the establishments that wouldn't hire because of color, and those who just paid lip service to the rules that you'd have to interview a non-white for a managing or a coaching job. And he'd give his own two cents to those who thought that if you protested enough you'd get the job, then take time to put your feet up. And if he were still alive today, he wouldn't confine himself to baseball, but train his sights on the NFL, NBA, and NHL as well.

The job wouldn't be over, because it is never over. Thomas Jefferson once wrote that "the price of freedom is eternal vigilance." For the freedom of many, a select few suffered and endured. Robinson wouldn't let the players of today forget that, even for an instant, and he wouldn't allow anyone to forget that they had been given a once-in-a-lifetime gift precious few receive. He'd tell them not to screw it up, not to let your emotions get the better of you, not to let your own self outshine that of your team -- in short, humility.

Many of us never knew Jackie Robinson personally, never met him, and have only seen his image in films or photographs, and heard his voice as a recording. It is because of that we tend to boil men like him down to a single event, accomplishment, or speech, instead of looking at the complete man, and what he taught others about how to act, how to carry themselves, how to think, how to feel, and how to remain proud while doing so, with dignity, and all the while earning respect.

Wanna argue with the Ref? Don't like the call? Go ahead and make your own!