Today marks the 60th anniversary of Jackie Robinson's entry into the major leagues in 1947. Major League Baseball is hosting a variety of celebrations today. The primary one is here in Los Angeles. I will be attending. There will be many words of salute. Jennifer Hudson is singing the National Anthem. Pitcher Brett Tomko has drawn a charcoal poster of Jackie, which all fans will receive. All the Dodgers will be wearing the number 42. It's a good thing they put the names back on the jerseys this year, or most of the fans will be lost. And, I hear that, at the conclusion of the game, the entire Dodger roster will be traded to the Giants and then refuse to report. Indeed, the Dodgers will always be home on April 15. They petitioned for this right several years ago. Regardless of the fact that Robinson's exploits happened 3000 miles to the northeast, this is the franchise that was his home in the city that was his birthplace.
It's sad that this day this year caps off a rather bizarre week of media frenzy caused by the Imus controversy. Indeed, Jackie should not be sharing the spotlight this week with folks like Reverend Al and Reverend Jesse, who are not even worthy to hold his dirty socks.
I'd like to imagine what Robinson's baseball debut would be like in today's media-heavy climate. First of all, ESPN would be heralding it with a week-long series of specials....a Countdown to Jackie. Fatso and Fruit Loops on WFAN would be traveling to the stadium to host a three hour pre-game show. Who knows how many corporate sponsors would be tying into the event?
"Remember, folks, Jackie will be there in time courtesy of DHL."
"Jackie Robinson, this Bud's for you."
"Hey, Jackie Robinson, you've just played your first major league game. What are you going to do now? Jackie: I'm going to Disney World."
Back in 1947, there was none of that nonsense. You probably only had the radio play-by-play....maybe. There were newsreels of the event, but I'm guessing that there are some fans who showed up that day and had no idea what momentous thing would be happening. And they would see Jackie, in his resolute quietness, get down to the business of being a major league baseball player.
Yes, he would endure the harsh words of fans who preferred their baseball players to be as white as their home uniforms. And segregated hotels on long road trips. And the slow acceptance of his teammates, who ultimately would follow the lead of their team captain, staunch Southerner Pee Wee Reese. But, throughout it all, Jackie did this thing. Quietly. Professionally. Magnificently.
And agenda-less.
A note of all this should be taken by the Sharptons and Jacksons of our world, who take their mis-guided approachs to even more mis-guided extremes. The double and triple standards that are rationalized with the ridiculous notion that gangsta rappers can pervade our youth with the same vile expressions voiced by Don Imus because they need to express their creativity. Baloney! They are just as accountable as anybody else.
And while Sharpton and company are making too much noise, other prominent African-Americans are making too little. Just like the liberal guests who continually embraced the morning soap box that Imus willfully accorded them, and have subsequently abandoned him in steely silence, so, too, are the truly worthy African-American leaders who probably cringe at Reverend Al's antics, but say nothing. Where is Oprah? Where is Obama? Yes, he made the customary press release comment condemning Imus. But, at the same time, you don't have to use a major Internet search engine to find photos of him running around with rappers like Ludacris.
The silence from them is nothing like the quiet resolve of Jackie Robinson. Because he got things done they cannot even hope to achieve in their lifetimes.
Jackie, this Bud is truly for you.
Dinner last night: Monte Cristo sandwich at the local diner.
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