Rickey and Robinson: The Preacher, The Player, and America's Game (review)

Reviewed by: Rickey and Robinson: The Preacher, The Player, and America's Game Dave Ogden (bio) John C. Chalberg . Rickey and Robinson: The Preacher, The Player, and America's Game. Wheeling IL: Harlan Davidson, 2000. 248 pp. Paper, $16.95. Chalberg reexamines Branch Rickey's "experiment" and the racial politics of Major League Baseball and the Negro Leagues in this nine-chapter, or "inning, " narrative (actually the book is ten chapters, including the opening "Warm-ups"). Chalberg upholds the myths surrounding Rickey: preacher, prophet, pundit, and power broker. "Mahatma" deftly negotiates the social and political obstacles to bring the first black man to the Major Leagues. Chalberg provides interesting perspectives on the chemistry between the two men and their chemistry with (and at times explosive reactions to) others. [End Page 162] Chalberg's reliance on secondary sources and "off-the-cuff " knowledge, however, makes it difficult at times to separate myth from historical fact. Still, Chalberg does an admirable job explaining the social climate in which the paths of Rickey and Robinson merged and the historical figures who played a role in Rickey's plan. Chalberg also does a good job explaining Rickey's philosophy as a baseball executive and as a change agent. He speaks of Rickey in superlatives, going so far as to claim that Rickey introduced baseball's third era. The first was the era of the "dead ball," dominated by Ty Cobb, and the second was marked by Babe Ruth's introduction of the "long ball." Rickey introduced the era of power and speed via Robinson. Rickey's role as an emancipator, however, may be overly romanticized. Chalberg notes (with attribution to Jules Tygiel) that there may have been black players besides Robinson worthy of Major League contracts, but Rickey "deliberately chose" not to sign others: "In his mind, it was crucial that one player be given center stage. This individual did not necessarily have to be the best black ball player, but he did have to be the best person" (p. 102). Chalberg admits that Rickey's motivations weren't altogether altruistic. Rickey felt Robinson could help the Dodgers win ball games and improve the gate. Indeed, large numbers of African-Americans made their way through the Ebbets Field turnstiles, and attendance in 1947 surpassed 1.8 million. The well-worn accounts of the on- and off-field abuse Robinson endured are recited again by Chalberg. What's more interesting in Chalberg's account is the reaction of other Negro Leagues players to Robinson's signing with the Dodgers. Satchel Paige was envious, and Buck Leonard said he and his teammates didn't think Robinson was that talented. Generally, according to Chalberg, Negro Leaguers feared that Robinson's entry into the majors would spell the end of their brand of baseball; as related by Chalberg, they were right. As the Negro Leagues dissolved, Rickey set his sights on creating a third major league, to be called the Continental League. Rickey's plans countered the baseball owners' refusal to expand to other cities and their removal of the National League in New York City. Rickey's attempt exemplified his contentious relationship with his fellow baseball executives. But Rickey stayed in the game until a year before his death, while Robinson's career was shortened by his progressing diabetes and weight problems. Both men, however, devoted considerable time in their later years to politics. Chalberg uses the last three "innings" of the book to describe their forays outside baseball. Chalberg portrays Rickey and Robinson as tireless fighters for civil rights and against Communism after their baseball days and reveals that both felt Richard Nixon could champion their causes. That was not the case, and Robinson became especially disillusioned with Nixon, and with leaders of the [End Page 163] civil rights movement, including the NAACP's Roy Wilkins and Malcolm X (with whom Robinson had heated exchanges via the press and personal correspondence). Robinson also did not endear himself to other black sports luminaries. In Chalberg's description, Robinson may have been considered the elder statesman of black professional athletes, but he did not share philosophies or political styles with other notables, such as Muhammad Ali. Robinson's...

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