Remembering dialing Don
Barksale’s music & record shop ,South Western Avenue , Los Angeles,
Barksadale, the Ucla basketball stalwart, Wilbur Johns teams, pre John Wooden,
post WW2. Davage “Dave” Minor,
introducing us, on Kherckoff Hall steps.(Asucla)
II
“Jackie Robinsion here,”answered
the phone, little knowing “number 42"
would break box office records at America’s cinemas. That the fiery passionate
“42" would be recognized for breaking the color line and that all big
leaguers today, April 15.2013,would wear “42" in tribute.
to his legacy, preserving a
historic landmark.
His grandfather, a plantation sharecroppere, the
family’s mobility and genetic DNA, moved
to Pasadena, California where the future 4 sport letterman attended the City College,
transfering to Ucla upon attaining the Community College’s two year degree...
III
At Westwood, he found
a home His athleticism bonding with Kenny Washington on the gridiron and the
baseball field. Track and field with Woody Strode. In his spare time, his hand
and eye coordination dominating the ping pong rat tat tat scene in the basement
of the men’s gym.
A natural, he joined Barksdale in basketball practices.....
give and go, fast breaks, the Hank Luisetti one handed set shot, those eyes
feinting out the defense. Thinking #42 would go one way, turning the corner on
a pick&roll, going the other way...leaping from the foul line into the
paint, hanging in the air.
Swish!
IV
His determinism and passion could not be deterred by the
outbreak of World War 2. Captain Robinson U.S. Army. Ucla graduate may have
rubbed some senior ranking officers but
unlike another larger than life Paul Robson, he staked out how far he could go,
in crossing the line for black athletes
who refused to “buy” the indignities and abuse that the Emancipation
Proclamation in its mode, tried to legislate..
But isn’t prejudice
and bullying inherent in egotism, thinking only of you know who. .
V
In those post war
yesterdays, #42 married his soul mate , and joined the Negro league. Likes of
Josh Gibson Satchel Paige (“don’t look back, you’ll see something
gaining on you”. Larry Doby, Roy
Campanella, (“Campy”) Don Newcome, Monte Irwin, Dutch Leonard “Say hey”Willie
Mays.
VI
In the meantime, the
“Mahatma”, Branch Rickey, once of the Cardinal organization in St Louis, Pepper
Martin’s “Gas House Gang”, bought into the Brooklyn Dodgers in his role as
managing director. Rickey’s grasp of athleticism, bought number “42" in a
dress rehearsal, vis a vi Montreal, in the International League, the former
Ucla star, heading up ...no, not the hot spot, but the middle of the infield.
Second base, anchoring the 9 player “collective” on its
merits.
VII
How then did the Professor and #42, reach their modus
operandi . A father surrogate? yet their skin pigment had a different color
base.. Both humans were athletic pioneers: Rickey with the Gas House Gang of
the St. Louis Organization. Robinson in the Negro League.
The common denominator if you will, was an aggressiveness to
make something of their potential on and off the diamond. The imaginative magnetism of #42,
stealing home on a squeeze play,:( a bunt by the batter),sliding, amidst the
swirling dust.
All made possible by the father figure Rickey, his Branches
reaching out from those Missouri school yards, growing up in middle America.
To make something of himself. . .
VII
Where else but in Brooklyn. Court Street and Montague, the
Dodgers offices, the team owned by an Ohioan, Larry McPhail, who favored Rickey
as the managing parter. And Ebbets Field for #42 to perform his revolutionary
“phenom” before immigrants, sports minded businessmen and knothole kids in the
bleachers, the Statute of Liberty watching, across the pond.
And that he did, breaking the color line amidst the taunts
and narrow mindedness of team mates, no less, getting the “fingers” from
opposing players.
Yet the Captain, shortstop Pee Wee Reese, born in
Louisville, Kentucky, below the Mason Dixon line, welcomed #42, throwing his
arms around his second baseman.
How else could they compete, without the tandem making the
double play.Scooping the ball up, throwing it on a line, to #42,he stepping on
the bag or tagging the sliding player spikes up, pivoting and throwing a zinger
to first base.
The awes of enchantment awakening, #42's dream being
realized in the day time and at night, McPhail introducing kleigs for night
games around the early forties.
VIII
So the Mahatma Rickey in his role of a kindred soul, with
his #42, resounded a blow against
bigotry, and man’s inhumanity to man.
To give Robinson a
chance to prove himself. That he belonged.
To grab that lucky ring ( a free ride) on the merry go
round, off the Santa Monica pier, several miles from the Ucla campus, where
#42, polished his finese for the break through in Brooklyn.
Bigotry has no place in America’s heart land. Nor in Ebbets
Field.
The ancient lullaby “We are all God’s children”, playing
out..
“Jackie Robinson #42
here.”
The City that never sleeps, April 24, 2013