Hank and Jackie

The year is 1947, a post war world where Americans must come of age facing the nagging responsibility of emerging as a world power. Like an adolescent struggling to break free from childish thinking, America is forced to decide whether to accept the higher principles on which it was founded or change into something else. This is a story about Jackie Robinson and Hank Greenberg, two of the greatest baseball players during the middle part of the twentieth century. They were opposing ball players on a baseball diamond but in a larger more important role they were on the same team. Are” all men created equal?” Hank and Jackie were two of the many people who helped us decide the answer to that question. Whether they wanted it or not, they became symbols for a generation and helped usher in a new dawn in American thinking.

As Hank walked from the parking lot into the stadium on this particularly hot, muggy, July, Pittsburgh, afternoon, he wipes the beads of sweat forming on his brow. With all the years I played in Detroit I can’t remember it bein’ this hot. His legs are a bit sore from all the running he did in yesterday's game. Oh well, after all I'm thirty-five, I probably should hurt a little. But Hank doesn’t care much, he is very happy with his performance, two for three with a walk, drove in two and scored a run. Not too shabby for someone everyone thinks is washed up. In the clubhouse only a few of the guys are in there getting ready. Hank sits down, takes a deep breadth and opens his locker. He feels much better about things now. Last week, he seriously considered quitting. I am not sure if this is so much fun for me any more. Hank smiles pensively as he methodically begins to unbutton his shirt as he has done for the better part of the last eighteen years.

Hank still has something to give the game of baseball. These old bones can still do it. Being traded to Pittsburgh on what had amounted to a misunderstanding in the front office, hurt him deeply. However, he left Detroit with humility and grace.

The manager, Billy Herman, sticks his head out of the office, “Hey, Greenberg, can I see you a moment?”

Hank walks back to Herman’s office,” what is it, skip?”

“You had a pretty good day out there yesterday; I want to start you again today at first, is that alright with you?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

“No reason, just want to make sure you aren’t too tired. You aren’t too tired are ya’ Hank.”

“Hell, no! I want t’play, skip. And, I feel good!”

“Ok, just wanted to make sure. I’m going to move you up in the batting order to the fifth spot. Go get ready, I’ll see you out there.”

Hank returned to his locker and continued getting dressed.

****

Jackie got off the bus and walked in the opposite direction from the rest of the ball players. He had to enter the clubhouse from a different entrance.

"Hey Jackie, wait up." The former UCLA running back turned and waited for Reese to catch up with him.

"When you hit that double off Sewell yesterday, was it on the corner or what?"

"I don't know Pee Wee, I think it caught the corner but I'm not sure."

"You sure leaned over to get to it, that much I could see." With his hands in his back pockets Pee Wee furrows his brow struggling to picture the incident in his mind.

The two men stroll toward the main entrance, laughing about the antics on the ball field before yesterday’s game when Gionfriddo and Billy Cox were imitating Leo Durocher.

“Boy, it’s a good thing Leo’s in New York with the Giants or there could have been a problem.”

Just the thought of Leo seeing those images makes Jackie laugh uproariously and he whips back, “Yea, I’m sure when that gets back to him, he’ll do somthin’.”

They come to the entrance marked "Colored only." The usher at the door looks with disdain at Pee Wee. Why doesn't he go to the white guy's door like everybody else? Pee Wee doesn't mind, he hardly notices. But, Jackie files it away as another outrage he will take to the field. Churning in his stomach, the fury grows inside him. But determined to keep his promise to Mr. Rickey, Jackie doesn’t say anything.

Flashback

“Robinson, I think baseball has changed. The game…and the world is ready. This is the time Robinson and I believe you’re the one.”

“Mr. Rickey, I would love to play for the Brooklyn Dodgers,” Jackie, said enthusiastically.

“Good, I was hoping you would say that. But, there is one thing I have to have your agreement on before you play even one game in the major leagues.” The distinguished old man peered out from behind his oak desk. Jackie squirmed slightly in his chair in anticipation as Rickey took the time to clean his spectacles while he carefully chose his next words.

“You know this is not going to be easy. You’re going to be subjected to some of the worst abuse a man can endure. They are going to try to get at you any way they can. They will call you names, knock you down, and spike you when slidin’ into base. Its going to be hard, Jackie, very hard. But, I want you to promise me, that you will do nothing in retaliation, nothing for three years.”

Rickey took a deep breath while he prepared to tell Jackie the rest of his demand. “After that time, you can lash out as you please, as… I…assume you will want to get even to a certain degree. Just remember to do it only on the baseball diamond. But for these next three years you do nothing. I chose you Robinson because I believe you have the right temperament to handle what I am sure is commin.’ I want this to work. It can only do that if you do not give them the excuse to stop this experiment. Do I have your promise?” Rickey stood and held out his hand in a gesture of a gentlemen’s agreement.

Jackie looked at him for a moment, growing angrier, digesting everything he just heard. He saw Rickey not as a partner in this negotiation but as the enemy, as a white man. Jackie looked him straight in the eye and said, “ Mr. Rickey, are you looking for a black man who is afraid to fight back?”

Rickey recoiled his outstretched hand and snapped back with accusation, “Damn it, Robinson, I’m looking for a man who is courageous enough not to fight back. “

Jackie considered Rickey’s anger and balanced it within an instant with his own. He decided he liked this old man. He concluded that he is sincere and can work with him.” Yes Mr. Rickey, I will take your deal.”

The two men shake hands on an agreement, which will rattle American tradition to its core and begin a chain reaction, which will change the world, as we know it. The signing of Jackie Robinson will be as Branch Rickey predicted, an historic moment.

End Flashback

Pee Wee and Jackie walk down the cement hallway under Forbes Field that leads to the clubhouse. Still laughing about all the reactions that Durocher could possibly have to the Pirates making fun of him. The sound of their laughter echoes to the darkest corners of that long cold gray breezeway. They enter through the door marked “Visitors.” Activity is highly charged in the clubhouse, players talking loud, running around in their underwear, laughing, joking, trying to relax as they get ready for today’s game.

****

Pounding his fist into his glove, the loud pops can be heard across the field as Hank moves out onto the diamond where several of the players are already warming up and taking laps. The steamy fresh cut grass mixes with the heavy humid air creating a sweet earthy aroma. He chooses a spot near Billy Sullivan. He likes Sullivan, they were both around the same age. Hank felt a kinship with him on that account. “Hi Hank, Howzit goin’?”

"Can't complain. Are we gonna get this one in today?" Hank looks upward in reference to the dark clouds forming in the distance.

"I sure hope so,” Billy says, “ I'm startin' at third. "

Hank acknowledges approval and sits down to stretch his legs, pulling and pushing his muscles to loosen them. It’s harder now with this older body, but not impossible. Across the diamond, the first place Dodgers began to mull around the bat rack. A few were stretching near first base. Hank sees Jackie enter the ball field from across the way and marveled at the rookie. He can not believe how well Jackie plays the game. Wow, there he is, I'll bet he is going to be a great ball player. He sure played the Hell out of us yesterday.

During the fifth inning Jackie came to the plate. The Dodgers had already scored two, and were threatening some more with two men on. The Pirates were hot about a call in the previous inning when the umpire called Billy Cox out on a close play at first. Jackie took a high throw and came down with a tag on top of Cox’s head. The Pirates thought he was safe. As Jackie came to the plate Hank could hear his own team mates at the other end of the dugout yelling out racial slurs, daring Jackie to do something about it. Hugh Stocker, the big muscle bound second-string outfielder seemed to be leading the rant. Hank didn’t like Stocker much. There’s something about that guy…Maybe ‘cause he’s pissed off Herman sits him on the bench all the time.

“We saw that boy, you better watch your manners around here boy.”

“I knew there would be trouble bringin’ a darkie into the league.”

“Know your place, boy, or we’ll show it to ya.”

Jackie’s stomach was turning. There are so many better ways of using this bat right now. It would be so easy to just turn and charge the dugout! But, he was committed to the promise he made Branch Rickey. Jackie just put it away, spit on the ground, and stepped back into the batter’s box. Standing with his bat back, nervously shifting his weight from his back leg to his front, he resembled a caged hungry mountain lion, ready to strike if given a chance. Occasionally he thrust the bat back and forth waiting for the next pitch.

“That’s right boy, you best not say nothin’.”

From out at first base, Hank heard everything. More than anyone else on the field he knew exactly what Jackie was going through. It reminded him of when he first broke into the league back in 1933. People just weren’t ready for a Jew from New York to become such a major force in the game of baseball. But, that is exactly what Hank did. There had been Jewish ball players before. But Hank was a star. He was the holder of several very distinguished home run records, voted the Most Valuable Player twice, led Detroit to four American league pennants and two world’s championships. Hank was a Jew who stood out in the world of the 1930s. In between Hitler’s tirades in Germany, and Father Coughlin’s radio broadcasts across America, there stood Hank, a symbol to all that the Jew had arrived in this country. So get used to it.

Hank was not the type to get pushed around. He was big and strong and had learned how to fight growing up on the streets of New York. In 1934, at the age of twenty-three he led his team to their first league championship. They faced the Chicago Cubs in the World Series.

****

Flashback

The public address announcer’s voice reverberated through the stadium filling the ethereal gaps, spilling over to the street fading into only muted sound. “And now, batting clean-up for the Tigers, Hank…Greenberg!”

Hank walked up to the plate swinging his usual three bats, flexing his muscles in the crisp, noonday, October, Detroit sun.

The radio announcer peered out his booth from the third deck of the stadium, describing each and every moment of this World Series game. “Hank stands in, the pitcher winds and delivers…swing and a miss, for strike one.”

Off to his right Hank’s concentration is broken by some heckling coming from the Cub’s dugout. “Oh, throw him a pork chop, he can’t hit that!”

“Hey Jew boy, don’t you need to read a book or something?”

“Yea, leave the baseball playing to us men.”

“And now, Umpire Moriarity is going over to the Cubs dugout to have a word with somebody down there.” The radio announcer’s voice began to fade from audibility as he leaned over his booth with his binoculars to get a better look. “There’s something happening down there but we’re not sure what it is. But whatever it is, its got Hank pretty upset. He’s just leaning on his bat watching Moriarity down there talking to some of the Cubs. He says somethin’ to the manager, Charlie Grimm… Ok…Moriarity has had his say, and walks back to the plate. He says something to Hank, and Hank nods, and now we are ready to play.”

“The next pitch is…and Hank swings and hits a long, high one to left… Wilson going back, back, all the way to the wall and, and, and this ball is in the seats for a home run! Hammerin’ Hank has hit another one!”

Hank rounded all the bases and crossed home plate. Instead of going straight to the Tiger’s dugout he made a sudden right turn and trotted over in front of the Cub team on the grass. Hank stood with his feet spread, his arms cocked back behind him, leaned forward, and yelled into the dugout. The veins in his neck bulged as the sweat on his bare arms glistened, defining his muscles in the afternoon sun. It’s loud enough that everyone in the immediate vicinity in the stands heard him. “I want the men who said those things to step out here and say them to my face…now!” Nobody said anything. An eerie quiet covered the stadium like a blanket, and…

The radio announcer followed Hank’s every move with his binoculars telling his radio audience. “Hank turns and is walking slowly away, still looking over at the Cubs dugout. He crosses home plate and says something to Morairity and now trots back to tiger property. OK, folks I think we are ready to play ball again.”

footnote

George Moriarity, the grandfather of the actor Michael Moriarity, ,was fined $250 for stopping the slurs of the Chicago ballplayers. He said afterwords. “if they are going to fine me for doing the right thing then I am through umpiring the world series.” George Moriarity never umpired a world series again.

End Flashback

The hot Pittsburgh sun was now well overhead as it beat down on the emerald green field…the umpire yelled, “play ball!”

Hank tried to rub his hands dry on his pants, the humidity was approaching the hundred degree mark. Man, it’s hot!

Inning after inning, the Dodgers and then the pirates came to the plate only to be shut down, time after time.

“It looks like we got ourselves a real pitchers duel here today folks. Coming up for the Dodgers here in the top of fifth inning, Robinson will lead it off.”

As the pitcher gets ready to deliver Jackie firms up with a determined stance working the bat back and forth. He swings and hits the ball hard in between first and second base. Like a freight train Jackie moves so fast down the baseline players have to really hurry if they are going to get him out. Hank hustles to cover the throw …in an instant the two collide.

Jackie goes flying and is down on the ground. Hank, the larger of the two men, just staggers back. He recovers and offers his hand to help the Dodger first baseman up off the ground. Jackie is immediately startled by the kindness of an opposing player. In fact, he is rather amazed, considering the treatment he has been getting around the league, that anyone would show courtesy to him here on the baseball diamond. A slight hesitation ensues while Jackie absorbs the moment and then he takes Hank’s hand, and is helped up by the home run king.

“Good hit. You keep playing like this, we’re never going to be able to beat you.”

Jackie, thankful for a friendly courteous, gesture, smiles as he takes Hank’s hand. Poignancy sometimes comes when you least expect it. The two men clinch their hands, one black, one white, both in struggles that neither really asked for, but are non the less engaged in.

“You hang in there, Jackie, you’re going to make it”

“Thanks, Hank, I appreciate that.”

“Don’t let those assholes get the best of you.”

“I’m tryin’… but it just gets hard sometimes y’ know?”

“Oh yea, I know plenty.”

Jackie walks off the field and sits back down in the dugout. After the third out, Jackie trots back out, he and Hank exchange nods as they pass each other on the field, Hank going to the dugout and Jackie covering first for the next inning of play.

“Hey, darkie you look real hot standing out there. I got some nice cool watermelon here for ya.’” A chuckle comes from several of the guys on the Pirate bench.

Hank has had enough of Stocker’s words. He walks down to the corner of the dugout and glares at him. Without saying a word the young man slowly wipes the smile from his face, not wanting to test Hank’s resolve. Hank thinks better of creating an incident over it and walks back to where he was sitting and continues to watch the game.

Hearing Stocker’s comments Jackie slowly bends down and rests his hands on his knees, waiting for the next pitch. He glances over at Pee Wee at short, never mind kid, just play your game. They acknowledge each other with their eyes and return to the game where the next batter is stepping in.

****

The cool shower feels really good on Hank’s skin. The combination of the heat with the humidity was as bad today as it has been all summer. By the time Hank dresses and walks out of the clubhouse door, beads of sweat are already accumulating on his brow and the wool in his pants is beginning to itch the skin on his legs. The sun is going down but offers little in the way of relief. As Hank walks out into the parking lot to leave the stadium he sees Jackie walking toward the bus stop to return to the hotel where the Dodgers are staying.

Hank waves him down, walks over to him and congratulates him on winning the game.

“Hey, have you had dinner yet?” Hank asks the question, pretty sure of the answer, but asked it anyway.

“No, I was going to eat at the hotel,”

Hank replies, “ I know this great little Italian place about a mile from here. Come join me,

“Do you think that is really a good idea considering how things are?”

“I got a feeling, we’re going to make it a good idea.” The older, more reserved and experienced Hank Greenberg, winks at Jackie as if to assure him that times are changing and they will take full advantage of that change.

The two men drive off in Hanks new ’47 Packard, laughing and joking. Jackie relays the story about Durocher and the joke that Hank’s teammates had pulled yesterday.

“Awh, that’s nothing,” Hank says, “you should have seen what happened in St. Louis last week…”

****

Jackie Robinson went on to play ten years for the Brooklyn Dodgers, helping them to win six pennants and a World Series. He thrilled crowds and ball players alike with his aggressive style of baseball, earning the respect of all as one of the most exciting players of his day. He opened the way for such greats to follow him like Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Bob Gibson, and literally hundreds of non-white ball players who have shaped the game in the last fifty years raising its talent base to higher and higher levels. When talking about Civil Rights, Jackie Robinson’s name is always remembered as one of the forerunners of the movement along with people like Rosa Parks, James Meredith and others.

Hank Greenberg retired after the 1947 season, ending one of the great careers in baseball history. He went to work for the Cleveland Indians front office and under the ownership of Bill Veeck signed more African American ball players in 1948 than any other franchise in the game. He continued to work in the business end of baseball until 1963.

Hank and Jackie remained friends until Jackie’s death in 1972.