Friday, April 13, 2007 |
Garret Anderson's Forty-Two Lashes
I have never heard anyone say, for instance, if John Connally is a real white man, then William Buckley is not, or that if Jane Fonda is a real white woman, then Loretta Lynn is not. Varieties of speech rhythm, diction, accent, taste, and style are fine for white people, but there must be a psychological and spiritual tub of tar a Negro should sit in each morning before facing the white day.The reflexive vituperation launched by both Tony Pierce and Deadspin at Garret Anderson for failing to take part in the April 15 circus of Jackie Robinson Day is at once wholly comprehensible and shameful, rooted deep in the incoherent prejudices yet lingering about Afro-American politics and symbolism. As I mentioned nearly two years ago on this occasion, Robinson's an icon whose unchallenged moral status provides a good deal of public relations whitewash over some rather dubious actions. The Dodgers, in particular, have sewn the number on the back of every player as though it were advertising something, which, in a way it is. Frank McCourt's brittle and insecure ownership has a good deal to atone for (especially the parking), thus each year feeding ever more desperate and extreme bids for absolution. If one player with 42 on his back is good, a whole team must be better!— Stanley Crouch, "The Failure of Black Power", Notes of a Hanging Judge
Such pitiful, commercial, and garbled displays only serve to underscore the widespread discomprehension of a truly complex man whose meteoric career came at a high personal cost. The corporate descendant of the team that shamefully underpaid Robinson when he was leading them to glory year after year has had a surprisingly tin ear when it comes to honoring its most hallowed player. In contrast, Anderson sees clearly both his place in the game and the disconnect between the empty Jackie Robinson Show minstrelsy being put on every year by MLB and the cost of the immense emotional capital Robinson actually invested in the game.
The odd thing about the Anderson fracas is how little actually underlies it. The initial report in the Times quoted him as declining because
"It wasn't my idea, and I'm not the type of person to jump on the bandwagon because someone else is doing something," Anderson said. "If I did it just because someone else was doing it, it would seem kind of empty to me."A week later, he elaborated, repeating "I personally don't feel I'm worthy of it."
"[Robinson] represented equality, not just for black people, but for Latin people and others from across the waters. It was the time of civil rights in this country, and he stood tall and carried a heavy weight for all people.Robinson used baseball to drag an often indifferent and at times violently opposed nation out of the mud of superstitious intolerance, busting open doors that still stayed only open a crack behind him; teams grudgingly acquired their lone black star, but as even the Dodgers showed with Roberto Clemente, there was a hidden upper limit to integration. Ridiculous taboos about miscegenation lived on in baseball for decades; recall that the Mets took a pass on Reggie Jackson because he had a white girlfriend."That's what I take from his life -- and that's why I feel unworthy of wearing his number. I feel it's his number -- it's retired. But if other guys want to do it, I'll tip my cap to them. I don't downplay any of those other players. We all have our own way of expressing how we feel about things."
Curt Flood bravely extended Robinson's work as he passed through the game's sticky gates, going relatively uncelebrated. His struggles immensely improved conditions for players, and ultimately, for the game itself, for free agency has led to a far broader distribution of talent than was possible under the old reserve clause system. The changes wrought by Robinson's revolution extend no less outside of baseball than in it: racial tolerance is remarkably widespread. Today, the captain of the Yankees and a leading candidate for president are both products of interracial marriages, a blossoming and encouraging trend. Such unions are perhaps the most vital future source of understanding and goodwill, for the politics of the bedroom have a way of insinuating themselves into other areas. If we wish to see Robinson's legacy, not just on April 15 but every day, it is there we need to look, and not in vacuous, servile, Stepin Fetchit publicity stunts.
Labels: angels, dodgers, jackie robinson
"Why won't he just shut up and wear the number like all us white people are telling him to".
It still surprises though that suburban white boys still think that the struggles of a black man who refused to take a number and behave earns their white asses the right to stage manage the black men of their own time and tell them to take a number and behave.
: 4/13/2007 07:05:00 PMThat said, it doesn't take away from the larger point that it seems that baseball is doing this as a marketing gimmick (which the league wide retirement of Jackie Robinson's number before it). Ken Griffey Jr.'s request should be commended. MLB's push to make this a league-wide event makes it shallow. Garret Anderson's "problem" is almost that he understands the issues too much (more so than Deadspin) and made his own decision as his own person...which is what I thought the point of the Civil Rights Movement was in the first place.
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