Showing posts with label Hank Aaron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hank Aaron. Show all posts

Thursday, April 30, 2009

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism (Recap)

One last thought on racism in baseball, and sports in general: It still exists. Oh, things are better than ever for minorities in baseball thanks to men like Jackie Robinson and later Hank Aaron and Roberto Clemente. Baseball, like society has come a long way. Still, African-American athletes face the whole stereotype of the "natural" athlete versus the "thinking" athlete. They are less likely to be hired as both managers and coaches. They are much less likely to hold executive positions in a front office. They are virtually non-existent in ownership. 

Worse yet, any attempt to call out the professional sports leagues for not doing enough is usually met with accusations, usually made by white guys, of playing the "race card". I can't find the source, but I read one guy who, on his blog, said that any African-American athlete who complains about racist treatment cheapens the struggles of men like Hank Aaron. Look, African-American athletes can be every bit as petty and selfish as any other athlete. Not every accusation of racism is going to be true. Still, knowing the history of not just baseball or sports in general, but knowing the history of our nation, we should recognize that what cheapens the memories of Jackie Robinson, or even Reverend King, is to pretend the job is finished when it isn't. 

We can, and should, acknowledge and celebrate how far we've come. We shouldn't pretend the journey is over.
  1. The Negro Leagues
  2. Even in Wisconsin
  3. Integrating the Sally League
  4. Major League Rookie
  5. A Natural Hitter?
  6. Atlanta
  7. 715
  8. The Managing Incident
My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Managing Incident

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #8

By the time Hank Aaron has established himself as the major league's all time home run king, things were getting better for all African-American major leaguers. Minority players no longer had to be superstars to hang on in the big leagues. African-American players were now among the highest paid players in the game, even though the majors were a long way from pay parity. It was now widely accepted that minority men can play baseball and they would continue to receive that opportunity. Hank Aaron was simply one of many ball players who paved the way for so many others.

As for the other aspects of the game, racism was still the name of the game. With the notable exception of the Braves' Bill Lucas, minorities were virtually absent from the front office of every major league team. There were no African-American managers. With the home run record now behind him, Hank Aaron focused his energy on advocating for the first African-American manager in the big leagues.

One individual that Aaron was promoting as a potential manager was his brother Tommie, who was managing in the Braves minor league system for the Savannah club. When Eddie Matthews was fired from the managerial spot at the All-Star break of the 1974 season, Hank Aaron mentioned to several reporters that his brother should be a candidate. When asked, Braves GM Eddie Robinson would say Tommie is not a candidate because he needs to concentrate on a pennant race for Savannah. If this were true, of course, it would be the first time a big league club decided that the welfare of a minor league team was more important than that of the big league team. Of course, it wasn't true. There are legitimate reasons that Robinson could have given for not considering Tommie Aaron for the job, such as his only having two years of experience as a minor league manager. Instead, Robinson chose to just make something up.

Did Hank Aaron want to be the Braves manager? That's a hard question to answer actually. Aaron never expressed a burning desire to be a field manager. Still, he thought it was vitally important than an African-American manager be given the chance somewhere in baseball. For at least a decade, Hank Aaron had been promoting the idea. Jackie Robinson would talk about it until his death. Still, no big league team was willing to take the chance. As for the Braves job, Aaron didn't want to campaign for the job since Eddie Mathews was his friend and had just been fired from the spot. He initially told the writers that he wasn't sure he was interested.

During the 1974 All-Star game, Aaron was interviewed by NBC's Tony Kubek. During the interview, Aaron told Kubek that he felt that the Braves, at the very least, owed him the courtesy of offering him the job. Aaron also said that if offered, he would accept since it was such an important signal to send to the rest of the league. When the writers asked the GM if Aaron was a candidate, he answered with a simple no. The greatest player in the history of the franchise, the team's current reigning superstar, would not even be considered for the post.

Again, there are reasons that Hank Aaron shouldn't have been offered the job, but it's hard to believe that he wouldn't have, at the very least, merited consideration. The younger players on the team looked up to Aaron as both a mentor and a friend. He never shied from offering advice to those who sought it out. He was, as we saw earlier in this series, a thinking ballplayer with a particular skill for evaluating the pitching of the opposition. Was he not offered the job because he was black?

Eddie Robinson was asked if the city of Atlanta was ready for a black manager. He had no comment. That alone spoke volumes. Aaron's disappointment at not being considered for the job would lead to a conflict with sportswriters and the team. This would spill over to the fans as he would receive yet another round of hate mail (including one idiot who wrote that Aaron had "pulled millions out of baseball without investing a dime" and told Aaron that the owner, to whom he should be eternally grateful, saved him from a "fate as a natural born cotton picker"). 

His relationship with the Braves would deteriorate further over discussions of Aaron's future with the organization. Aaron has already decided that he didn't want to wear a Braves uniform again and would like to move into the front office, perhaps in a position similar to the position the Cardinals had given his good friend, Stan Musial. No deal could be worked out between Aaron and Braves President Don Donahue. Owner Bill Bartholomay expressed regret years later saying, "Hank probably felt I left him hanging, and I can't blame him for that." Bartholomay believed Aaron was a "class of one". As it was, the bitterness led to the Braves trading Aaron to the Brewers to finish up his career.

Eventually, new ownership under Ted Turner would bring Hank Aaron back into the organization, and into the front office. Aaron has spent a significant portion of his front office career fighting to get more minorities hired by the major league teams.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues, Even in Wisconsin, Integrating the Sally League, Major League Rookie, A Natural Hitter?, Atlanta, 715

Friday, April 24, 2009

715

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #7
Everybody loved Babe Ruth. You will be the most hated man in this country if you break his career home run record.
When Hank Aaron arrived in Atlanta, he changed his game. Throughout his career, Aaron was one of those guy who had line drive power to all fields. He hit home runs that infielders thought they had a chance to leap and grab. The dynamics changed when he arrived at Fulton County Stadium. At the time, Atlanta was at the highest elevation in the league, which, when combined with the heat and humidity of the American south, led to the stadium receiving the nickname of the "Launching Pad". Aaron would abandon his style of hitting and begin to concentrate on pulling the ball. Year after year, the home runs would just keep coming.
Listen Black Boy, We don't want no nigger Babe Ruth.
If you had asked the baseball experts in the early 1960s, Aaron would not have been the man they picked to capture the home run crown. He would sneak up on the entire nation. In 1967, a reporter for the Milwaukee Journal dropped a hint that maybe Aaron was the man who would take Babe Ruth's record. Journalist Furman Busher would say the same thing later in Atlanta, but for baseball fans across the country, Hank Aaron was still operating under the radar. His 500th home run would come in 1968, and Aaron seemed to be at his peak as a power hitter. Nationally, his profile was raised considerably when he got hit number 3,000 during the 1970 season. Still, no one thought Aaron was the man to break the record. After hitting his 600th home run in 1971, people all over the country began waking up to the fact that Aaron was the man.
I hope you don't break the Babe's record. How do I tell my kids that nigger did it?
Through the early 1960s, many baseball fans thought that Mickey Mantle was the man who would break the record. He was the golden child of the New York Yankees and many believe that he was the rightful heir to Babe Ruth's throne. Mantle was a truly great ballplayer who may very well have made a run for the record, but injuries and hard living led to a late career slide in his numbers, and career was over by 1968. Attention would then turn to the amazing Willie Mays. Mays was baseball's number one showman and he may very well be the best all-around player the game has ever seen. His numbers began to fall in 1967 and would never really recover. He would make it to 660 home runs but his body simply couldn't go anymore.
You can hit all dem home runs over dem short fences, but you can't take dat black off yo face.
There's little doubt that Mantle and Mays would have been treated better if they had made the run at Babe Ruth. Mantle was white, popular and a Yankee and would have been embraced with open arms by baseball fans all over the country. Willie Mays was also popular enough that he would have avoided much of the trauma that Aaron faced. Mays was always more acceptable to the white masses than Aaron thanks to his outsized personality. He would have encountered some racist resentment, especially in the southeast, but it's doubtful that Mays would have faced the same level of vitriol as Hank Aaron.
How about some sickle cell anemia, Hank?
Despite the best efforts of Mantle and Mays, if anyone was going to break the Babe's record, it would be Aaron. He had become, almost despite himself, a celebrity. The 1973 season would not be an easy one for Aaron. Despite his home run chase, the crowds in Atlanta were sparse for most of the season, and would stay that way until Aaron closed in on Ruth. (The Braves would draw their smallest crowd ever on the night Aaron hit his 711th home run.) Despite the relative indifference the home run race received in Atlanta, the rest of the country was stoked. Aaron would receive standing ovations night after night across the country. The problem was the few who didn't want to see the record broken.
I hate you!!!! Your such a little creap! I hate you and your family. I'D LIKE TO KILL YOU!! BANG BANG YOUR DEAD.
Aaron faced the usual racism that season, including an altercation with a group of white fans in May, but it was nothing compared to the hate mail. Letter after letter would arrive in the Aaron mailbox. Much of it was just garden variety hate, but it would occasionally cross the line into threats. The F.B.I. would begin to investigate much of his mail. There were even rumors of a kidnapping plot against his daughter. The treatment was outrageous, but it didn't cause Aaron to cower. He was scared of course, any sane man would be, but he turned the fear and the anger into determination. The best way, Aaron decided, to get back at the hatemongers was to claim the record for himself and for his race.
You black animal, I hope you never live long enough to hit more home runs than the great Babe Ruth.
As the season went on, stories were written in newspapers across the country about the hate mail. Many people were moved to write Aaron letters of support. Opposing teams would even put messages of support on their scoreboards. Aaron was moved by the support, and it would bolster his spirit. In the last series of the season, at home in Atlanta, he would close to within one home run of the Babe. When Aaron trotted out to left field after failing to tie the record in his last at-bat of the season, something special happened. The Atlanta fans, which had packed the stadium 40,000 strong hoping to see Aaron tie the record, began a spontaneous outpouring of gratitude towards Aaron. The cheering would last five minutes.
I hope lightning will strike you before next season.
Aaron was determined the end the chase as quickly as possible during the 1974 season. He tied the record during the first game of the season in Cincinnati. He would break it during the fourth inning in the first home game in Atlanta. An African-American man, Hank Aaron, would receive an impressive, sustained ovation by a mostly white crowd in the south for breaking the most hallowed record in the history of the game. I can't speak as to whether the struggles and the abuse were worth the outcome, but Hank Aaron's 715th home run was a landmark for the game of baseball and it was a landmark for race relations in our country. There isn't a baseball fan alive who doesn't get goose-bumps listening to Vin Scully's call of the historic home run for the Dodgers. Hopefully, there isn't a human being alive who isn't disgusted by much Aaron's treatment in the race for the record.
I am confident that a man of your caliber will instill in others the spirit and love that you have given to major league baseball. My heart and feelings are with you and your kind friendship will mean more to me than any other person in life. Proud to be your friend. -Ernie Banks
The quotes throughout this post are from actual letters received by Hank Aaron.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues, Even in Wisconsin, Integrating the Sally League, Major League Rookie, A Natural Hitter?, Atlanta

Atlanta

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #6

When the Braves first moved to Milwaukee, they drew record crowds. The crowds would stay strong throughout the 1950s, but they would drop off as the years wore own. During the 1957 season, when the Braves captured their only world championship in Milwaukee, they drew 2.2 million people. In their last year in Milwaukee, 1965, they only drew 550,000. The team's new ownership decided that they would like to try their luck in a new market. With no major league team in the south, they decided Atlanta, home of the Braves' AAA team, would be a good choice.

Hank Aaron was apprehensive about the move from the moment it was announced. He had enjoyed his time in Milwaukee immensely, and loved the fans there as much as they loved him. Since he had grown up in Mobile, he was also unsure about moving back to the segregated south. Sure, Atlanta was among the most progressive cities in the south, but it was still far behind Milwaukee in the area of racial understanding.

Although Aaron was thrilled to find a vibrant and successful African-American community upon his arrival in Atlanta, he also faced a racial backlash from day one. He began receiving a hate letter or two almost every day in the mail. His wife had an incident with a security guard at a gate by the stadium that led to charges against her. (The charges were dropped when the racial overtones of the situation became known.) Some of the redneck fans would yell "nigger" and "jigaboo" at him nightly.

Aaron would also become more vocal in his criticism of the practices employed by most of the big league teams. In his last year in Milwaukee, Aaron had decried the lack of black managers in the game for an article in Sport magazine. In the first year in Atlanta, he launched a full fledged rant against the rulers of the game in Jet magazine. Aaron would let loose with a laundry list of the ways minority players were discriminated against, including salary discrepancies, the lack of African-American managers and a near total absence of minorities in the front office. There would be the predictable backlash from many of the white redneck fans, who would accuse him of not being sufficiently grateful for his position.

Still, Aaron would persevere and he would become a hero to many in Atlanta. It was during his time in Atlanta that he would finally become the nationwide star that his talent demanded. As the careers of his contemporaries, like Willie Mays and Ernie Banks, slowed down, Aaron would maintain his remarkable consistency at the plate. It was while playing in Atlanta that Hank Aaron wouldn't just become known as one of the best players in the game now, but as one of the best of all-time.

The move to Atlanta also landed him in the middle of an activist minority community where he would become more vocal than ever on racial issues. He realized that with his popularity as a Major League Baseball player, he was in a position to accomplish much good. He felt a responsibility to his fellow African-American players and he was happy to shoulder the burden. To his immense credit, many believe that Aaron helped usher in a new level of racial understanding in the Atlanta area. These were remarkable accomplishments from a remarkable man.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues, Even in Wisconsin, Integrating the Sally League, Major League Rookie, A Natural Hitter?

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

A Natural Hitter?

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #5

One of the most common slurs hurled at African-American athletes is to call them "natural" athletes, while white athletes were portrayed as "thinking" athletes. You saw it in the NBA in the 1980s where Larry Bird was the thinking champion, but Magic Johnson was the natural athlete. You see it in the NFL, especially when talking about quarterbacks. (The single most egregious offense in the NFL is the continued bias against African-American quarterbacks.) You certainly saw it when talking about Hank Aaron the hitter.

Ted Williams is considered the most scientific of hitters, and for good reason. He broke down hitting to a science, as explained in his book, Science of Hitting. Williams broke down everything he believed a hitter needed to do in order to be a successful major league hitter. Williams would dissect the batting stance, how you shift your weight during your swing, and why your swing shouldn't be level. He was held up as the thinking man's hitter.

In the 1950s and the 1960s, the same terms were never used to describe African-American ballplayers. Hank Aaron seemed to face the bias more than anyone. Articles written about Aaron would talk about his strong wrists and the pure strength he used to whip his bat around. One particular article even had a sub-heading saying that "Hank Aaron doesn't go in for 'scientific hitting'". In a way, Aaron was a natural "swinger". He didn't worry too much about the part he played in every at-bat because he had enough confidence in his own ability to swing a bat. Don't believe this means that Hank wasn't a thinking hitter.

Aaron's main preoccupation about hitting concerned the pitchers. He would study them. He knew their release points. He knew which pitches they like to throw and when they were mostly likely to throw them. He would sit up nights thinking about the next day's starting pitcher. From the moment he would wake up every morning, he was thinking about the pitcher he would face in the evening. Aaron and Williams were both "thinking" hitters ... they just thought about different things.

One thing to consider, Aaron was not the only great hitter of the era who was more preoccupied with the pitcher he was facing than the mechanics of his swing. The great Stan Musial was no different. He and Aaron would meet up at the batting cages whenever the Braves would play the Cardinals and discuss hitting. Other players would get near them and keep quiet to try and learn from these two masters. If Aaron was a purely natural hitter, why would these other players be so interested in what he has to say?

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues, Even in Wisconsin, Integrating the Sally League, Major League Rookie

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Major League Rookie

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #4

Upon his arrival at the Braves spring training camp in Bradenton, Florida in 1954, the press would tout Hank Aaron as a major prospect. Hank felt like anything but. He spent the Spring fighting the bigoted notion that he was lazy, a label often placed on African-American players. His manager had even nicknamed him "Stepanfetchit" in the papers First baseman Joe Adcock labeled him "Slow Motion Henry". They even misspelled his name on his locker. Aaron didn't believe he had any chance of making the team, but when Bobby Thomson broke his ankle, Hank Aaron was made the team's starting left-fielder. It would be 23 years before he would leave the starting lineup.

After spring training, the Braves and Dodgers would barnstorm their way north playing exhibition games across the south. It was a particular thrill for Hank to play against Jackie Robinson in front of his Dad in Mobile. The African-American players from both teams would spend their evenings in Jackie Robinson's room. Robinson and the other veterans offered advice to the newer players about surviving in the game as African-American players. Hank Aaron said he learned from hanging out with the veteran Dodgers that ...
I could never be just another major-league player. I was a black player, and that meant I would be separate most of the time from most of the players on the team. It meant that I'd better be good, or I'd be gone. It meant that some players and some fans would hate me no matter what I did. 
Life in the majors was a step up for Aaron, but his race presented the usual difficulties. He wasn't allowed to eat in the hotel restaurants with most of his teammates. He had a hard time finding a restaurant that would serve him. Once, Aaron was riding around with a friend of Italian descent in Cincinnati, his friend's wife and her sister when they were pulled over and the police made Aaron get out of the car and told him to get out of town. He hid in the woods and snuck back to his hotel.

As a player, Aaron was solid as a rookie and would improve as the season went on. There was no doubt that he was a major league hitter. His image, however, was that of a backwoods, country boy who wasn't very bright. Much of that image was the result of stories from manager Charlie Grimm, a natural entertainer. Unfortunately for Aaron, it is an image he has spent his entire life attempting to shake. It was hard because, as good as Aaron was, he was never a flashy player like Willie Mays. So he had the deal with the typically stereotyping applied to black players: he was slow and dim-witted and whatever talent he had was just a natural occurrence.

Aaron's rookie season would end in September when he broke his ankle. When he would return to the Braves in 1955, he would establish himself as one of the best players in the league. He'd be one of the best for 20 more years.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues, Even in Wisconsin, Integrating the Sally League

Monday, April 20, 2009

Integrating the Sally League

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #3

Since Major League Baseball didn't extend any further south than Cincinnati, St. Louis and Washington DC at the time, the south had become a hot bed for minor league baseball. As a sign of the times, the southern minor leagues would fight integration tooth and nail. Many teams played in cities with laws that explicitly prohibited mixed race play. Teams would refuse the assignments of African-American players from their big league counterparts. One league even attempted to ban an entire franchise for willingly fielding African-American players.

The Braves sent Hank Aaron to their minor league boot camp in Waycross, Georgia. Here, the players lived in integrated barracks, not unlike the Army. Occasionally, there would be a bus to take players into town so that they could run errands and do laundry. On one occasion, Aaron missed the bus back to the barracks and had to return on foot. It was a long walk in the dark and it proved to be a harrowing experience upon his return. There was a fence to get on the grounds and then a long road to the barracks. Aaron decided it would be easier to cut through the woods. When he came out of the woods, a security guard spotted him and began shooting. Fortunately, he would make it into the barracks without getting shot.

Aaron was assigned to the Braves Jacksonville team coming out of camp where he would play for a manager named Ben Geraghty. Aaron, along with his teammates Horace Garner and Felix Mantilla were going to be integrating the South Atlantic League (along with two players on the Savannah ball club). Their manager wanted them on his team, but he also wanted them to know what they would be up against. During the season, he would make a point of visiting them wherever they were staying and would often eat with them when they couldn't eat with the rest of the team. They knew it wouldn't be easy, but the young players were glad to know their manager was on their side.

It wouldn't be easy. They knew that they weren't just playing for themselves. They were setting the stage for other players of their race to join the league down the road. They were expected to hold their tongues no matter what was screamed at them. They were expected to keep their cool if pitchers on opposing teams through at them. They were expected to be saints in a world of sinners.

At ballparks all over the South, the Jacksonville team was drawing large crowds. The "black section" in each park was full to cheer the African-American players, and the white sections were full just to see the spectacle. This could have led to a disaster. After being hit by a pitch in Macon, Mantilla started to rush the mound but was quickly restrained by teammates. First white fans began spilling onto the field in anger, followed by the African-American fans. If not for the police, it is conceivable that a race riot would have taken place.

Aaron, Mantilla and Garner would suffer indignities at every turn. The fans would throw rocks at them. They were insulted with every racist slur known to man. White fans would throw black cats on the field. Aaron was chased through the streets of Phenix City, Alabama by a group of white guys. Even worse, they would receive death threats, often threatening to shoot them from the stands. At not point could they relax at the ballpark. Their only possible revenge was to play the game well and that they did.

Aaron would be selected to play in the leagues All-Star Game. Rumor had it that Georgia Governor Herman Talmadge was going to block him from playing. Aaron would be spiked in the last game before the All-Star Game and it became a moot point. No black player would make the All-Star team that year. Still, Aaron would lead his team into the playoffs. (One white fan would greet the team after they clinched their spot in the playoffs with "I just wanted to let you niggers know you played a helluva game."

When it was over, Aaron knew he was a survivor. He had taken everything that could be thrown at him and thrived as a ballplayer. He saw that he and his teammates has slowly won over many of the fans in the league across the season. It has been said that Aaron might have been the catalyst for Jacksonville to become a more racially tolerant city. "I'm not sire I've ever done anything more important" was Aaron's response.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues, Even in Wisconsin

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Even in Wisconsin

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #2
If it was strange for those White Folks in Eau Claire to be around black people, it was just as strange for me to be around them.
After signing the Hammer, the Braves assigned him to their class D team in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. Aaron was playing in Chicago with the Clowns, and he put his new cardboard suitcase, a gift from Clowns owner Syd Pollock, on the train for Milwaukee and climbed aboard a plane for the trip to Eau Claire.
I was a nervous wreck, bouncing around the sky over a part of the country I'd hardly ever heard about, much less been to, headed to a white town to play ball with white boys.
Wisconsin was nothing like the south. For one thing, there wasn't open hostility and hatred towards African-Americans. Additionally, since several other African-Americans had played for the team over the past two seasons, the town was prepared for Aaron's arrival which would help control the culture shock. He also had two African-American teammates, Julie Bowers and Wes Covington, which would help ease his transition to integrated baseball. Still, Wisconsin was a strange place for Aaron and a difficult adjustment.

Whenever Aaron would go out in the town, people would stare at him. He remembers a little girl at a restaurant where he was having breakfast who couldn't take her eyes off of him and a man who just "gawked" as Aaron walked through a parking lot outside the stadium. Aaron was never the most gregarious of men, but after arriving in Wisconsin he was so out of sorts that he would barely utter a word.
It made you feel like you should start tap dancing or something.
Other times, he would face the type of racism of which he was already familiar. Aaron and the other African-American players were taken in by a white family in town who were very progressive and big supporters of the team. Hank and the daughter took a liking to one another and would sit on the back porch holding hands. Still, they knew not to be seen together in town. Once, Aaron, Bowers and Covington went to a hangout in the countryside with the daughter and several other girls. Some of the local men found out and took off looking for them. Fortunately, they weren't found because the girls hid them in the bushes.

Aaron began to long for home and was seriously considering quitting. He called home and his brother reminded him of the opportunity that has been given to him and Aaron decided to carry on. Despite some initial doubts about his ability to perform against white players, he would become one of the stars of the league. His ability to hit the ball remained unquestioned and he would rip the opposing team's pitchers to shreds. Aaron would go on to win the Rookie of the Year award for the league. He was the third player from the Eau Claire team to capture the award in as many seasons. Of course, the paper reported it as Aaron being the third of "his race" to win the award. 

Still, Eau Claire was a veritable paradise compared to Aaron's time in Jacksonville.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction, The Negro Leagues

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Negro Leagues

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism #1

With African-American ballplayers excluded from Major League Baseball, a series of Negro Leagues were formed so that African-American baseball players were able to play the game they loved professionally. Starting in 1920, there were seven different Negro Major Leagues that would operate, but the two most successful were the second Negro National League (1933 - 1948) and the Negro American League (1937 - 1958). Some of the Negro League teams were among the most successful African-American owned businesses in the country (such as the Homestead Grays, Kansas City Monarchs and the Indianapolis Clowns). 

The downfall for the Negro Leagues began when Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier for the National League in 1947 with the Brooklyn Dodgers. Many of the minor leagues outside of the south would integrate and eventually, the major league teams would sign a number of African-American players to their minor league teams. Additionally, the best players, and the biggest draws in the Negro Leagues, would begin to populate the major league teams. With the best players now in the majors, many African-American baseball fans would turn their attention to the major leagues at the expense of the Negro Leagues. By 1960, all that would remain of the Negro Leagues would be the Indianapolis Clowns who would become a comedy barnstorming team in the mold of the Harlem Globetrotters. 

Hank Aaron would begin playing semi-professional baseball for the Mobile Black Bears in 1951. From day one, Hank could hit a baseball as good as anyone. His coach worked as a scout for the Clowns in the Negro American League and would sign Aaron to a contract. When Aaron boarded a train for the Clowns 1952 Spring training camp in North Carolina, it would be the first time he left the "black" world of Mobile, Alabama. He would learn a lot about his country.

As a ballplayer, Aaron would get a chance to prove himself right away thanks to an injury to one of the team's infielders. He would quickly establish himself as one of the top hitters in the Negro Leagues. One of the primary sources of income for Negro League teams (and ironically, one that would only hasten their demise) was by selling the contracts for their top talent to the major leagues. The Clowns had drummed up interest in Aaron from both the Boston Braves and the New York Giants, and the summer after Aaron joined the Clowns, his contract was sold to the Braves. During his off-season from the Braves, he would rejoin the Clowns and lead them to a championship in the 1952 Negro World Series.

Prior to singing with the Braves, Aaron would tour America with the Clowns and would experience first-hand that effects of Jim Crow and racism. The team would almost never eat at a restaurant because it was difficult to find one that would serve them. Instead, they would buy groceries when they had the chance and eat on the bus. Needless to say, they would often have to sleep on the bus as there weren't many hotels that would allow them to stay. They would go weeks unable to do their laundry. It was an experience that wasn't unlike that of any other group of African-Americans in the age of Jim Crow.

The most moving story concerned a rare experience of the team getting to eat at a restaurant. In Aaron's words ...
The day after Baltimore, we were rained out of a big Sunday doubleheader at Griffith Stadium in Washington. We had breakfast while we were waiting for the rain to stop, and I can still envision sitting with the Clowns in a restaurant behind Griffith Stadium and hearing them break all the plates in the kitchen after we were finished eating. What a horrible sound. Even as a kid, the irony of it hit me: Here we were in the capital in the land of freedom and equality, and they had to destroy the plates that had touched the forks that had been in the mouths of black men. If dogs had eaten off those plates, they'd have washed them.
My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.

Previous entries in this series: Introduction

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

An Introduction

8 Times Hank Aaron Faced Racism

From April 8, 1974 until August 7, 2007, Henry Aaron was baseball's reigning home run king. In sports, it is the most hallowed of records, and the record itself has cast a long shadow over Aaron's life and career. As a player, he was one of the most well rounded superstars in the history of the game, and easily one of the ten best hitters. He was a crusader for civil rights and has worked doggedly to increase the role that minorities play behind the scenes in baseball. The home run record was a remarkable accomplishment, but it barely touches all that which comprises the Hank Aaron story.

This isn't the story of just any baseball player, this is the story of a black baseball player. In the world of 2009, it might not seem that the distinction has much meaning, but in the world of Hank Aaron it means everything. Every accomplishment, every record, every moment of his career must be viewed through his experience as a black man. He was the best of the generation of players that followed Jackie Robinson into the big leagues. While Jackie Robinson may have broken baseball's color barrier, the work of equality was just beginning. Baseball reflected Jim Crow, and this was the world into which Hank Aaron stepped at the dawn of his career.

It would be easy to dismiss Hank Aaron's story as just a sports story, or as nonsense about baseball, but that would be a travesty. There is much to learn from the story of "Hammerin' Hank". It is, after all, a story of strength in the face of adversity. It is a story of perseverance against a tidal wave of hatred. It is a story of triumph against the most impossible of odds. It is a story of race and the divisions that threatened to rip our country apart. The story of Hank Aaron is important because it is the American story. It is our history.

My primary source for the information in this series is Hank Aaron's 1991 autobiography, I Had a Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story, co-written with Lonnie Wheeler.