Sports Editor Helped To Lay Groundwork For Integration Into Baseball
By TIM LACY
For New Pittsburgh Courier
When Jackie Robinson took the field Brooklyn Dodger uniform 50 years ago--the first Black man to play in the all-white major league--the African-American's sports editor, Sam Lacy was there.
Just three days earlier, the Afro's headlines had read, 'Brooklyn Signs Jackie Robinson Dodgers Pick Star for Utility Position; Branch Rickey Confirms Afro Report of Two Weeks Ago.'
April 15, 1947 was the fruit of a quest started by Lacy some 11 years earlier. In 1936, Lacy approached Washington Senators' owner Clark Griffith with the argument that there was as much talent in the Negro Leagues as there was in the white major leagues.
He was dismissed by Griffith who said, 'Southern-born major leaguers wouldn't play with Black players and there would be clashes on the field.' None the less Lacy continued on his quest alone.
While working for the Chicago Defender from 1940 to 1943, Lacy started a letter-writing campaign to major league owners. After much persistence, they eventually agreed to meet with him. But the Defender decided to send actor and political activist Paul Robeson to the meeting instead. While Robeson was a very visible figure, Lacy was angered by the choice because the actor lacked any real understand of the specific nuances of the situation.
Lacy ultimately returned to the Afro and with the assistance of publisher Carl Murphy, a meeting was arranged between Lacy, Larry MacPhail of the Yankees and Branch Rickey of the Dodgers. MacPhail failed to show up, so Lacy and Rickey met privately. The proposal offered by the Afro was that the Negro Leagues be used as a fourth Triple-A league that would provide players to major league teams.
While they arrived at no final resolution from that meeting, it was here that the idea of the 'great experiment' was born.
After much evaluation and discussions about the Negro leaguer who was most suited to carry the torch, Lacy and Wendel Smith of the Pittsburgh Courier (another key advocate for the integration of baseball) mutually agreed on Robinson.
Robinson was not only chosen for his obvious athletic ability because there were over players who were athletically superior. He was chosen because possessed some essential qualities: He had played on integrated teams while a student at UCLA; he had been an officer in the Army and he had the temperament to handle what would be a volatile and racist situation.
On that April day, Robinson made history when he took the field in Dodger Stadium. Lacy meanwhile was watching, having been assigned by his publisher to closely follow Robinson for the first three years of his career. The experience was filled with its share of obstacles because of racism and the legal enforcement of Jim Crow laws.
In the early days Robinson and Lacy would sometimes find themselves locked out of the stadium and would be forced to circle it looking for a loose board in the fence under which they could crawl. In Deland, Fla., the sheriff came out onto the field and broke up the game. At a Macon, Ga. boarding house, Lacy and Robinson woke up to find a cross had been burned on the lawn. At Pelican Stadium, Lacy was refused admission to the press box. Taking a folding chair to the roof, he was soon joined by other writers under the pretext that they were working on their tans.
Lacy's stories about how Robinson played are gems to read. And 50 years from that opening day, Lacy at age 93, is still going strong. He makes the nearly one-hour drive from his residence in Washington, D.C., to the Baltimore, Md., office of the Afro, three days a week. His column is still widely read.
When other writers around the country want to check their facts, they pick up the phone and call Lacy, earning him the title of 'Dean of Sportswriters.'
