Guest Editorial Opinion: Jackie Robinson the giant
I can see it my mind’s eye: Soaring several stories high, a sculpture of Jackie Robinson, the renowned African-American baseball player. Bestriding a grass-green pedestal, the bronzed colossus towers over the baseball diamonds scattered around him, fields busy with children and adults playing ball. Jackie’s strong, handsome face is eternally turned to watch the action of the ball; his powerful body is poised to spring into one of his famous base steals.
This giant memorial emerged in my mind one day years ago as flipping through TV channels, I came across a public-television program featuring the story of Jackie Robinson, who desegregated Major League Baseball when he joined the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. Only a giant-sized figure seemed big enough to represent the man who rose so high to surmount the lofty barriers set before him, because desegregating the major leagues turned to be a Herculean mission, suited more for a soldier than an athlete.
Jackie was forced to play through a gauntlet of opposition and harassment, including death threats against him and his family. He endured antagonism from inside and outside the league. Some of his own teammates rejected him, some competitors racially taunted him, and many so-called baseball fans were demonstratively hostile. Amazingly, he didn’t respond in kind, despite the enormous provocation. And he didn’t let his suffering show on the ball field, as I witnessed in the program’s newsreel clip.
As the old newsreel rolled, I saw baseball stands crammed with spectators screaming abuse at Jackie, who acted oblivious to their vicious behavior. As they reviled him, he dashed toward the next base, then darted back, teasing the pitcher until he succeeded in stealing yet another base. While the crowd’s faces twisted in hatred, Jackie’s face and athletic movements exuded the joy of playing ball.