I’ve been over to the Sports Illustrated website a bunch of times over the past week or so. Each time I visit the site, I’m greeted with this fine picture of Dave Parker (right) and Jim Rice (left), as they both attempt to gain entry into baseball’s Hall of Fame.
I for one think that both players could be in the Hall, although it is debatable as to if this feat could possibly occur (Jim Rice probably sooner than Parker, if he even gets in at all). However, HOF debate is not necessarily the main point of this blog entry.
My thoughts relate primarily to this picture.
When I saw it at first, I didn’t think much of it. Then, as I repeatedly returned to the SI website, it struck me as odd and out of place. “Why?” I asked myself as I gazed upon two legends of the game. Why exactly did I feel this way? At that point, I simply realized that seeing two black baseball players (wearing two distinct jerseys) standing side by side was something I haven’t really seen all that much of in baseball (lately).
With the MLB, we’ve all heard of the downward trend in the racial demographics, particularly for African American (or black) players. In fact, when the 2007 season started, a grand total of 72 players listed on opening day rosters (all teams) were black players. That’s a little over 8% of baseball and it truly is a startling figure that was showcased this year, in April, as we commemorated Jackie Robinson’s breaking of the color line in baseball (April 15, 1947).
I guess this is why this picture was strange to me. Or maybe it was strange seeing an African American male wearing a Red Sox uniform (if Coco Crisp is traded, there will be no black players in their starting lineup). Either way, although the racial disparities in baseball’s current population are disturbing, I cannot help but to wonder about the hardships Jim Rice and Dave Parker experienced as black players during much more racially tumultuous times.
When looking back, we often hear of Jim Rice and Dave Parker as cold and vague with the sports media (or even fans) during their respective careers (Jim Rice especially). However, one has to wonder whether or not the racial climates of the cities that they played for had any effect on these interactions.
Jim Rice established his Hall of Fame legacy as a Boston Red Sox, while Boston was a tremendously racist town. Rice made his debut against Chicago on August 19, 1974. At the time, Boston was experiencing a period of “desegregation busing” or “forced busing,” a ruling that came that year (1974) and was an attempt to stabilize racial demongraphics in public schools. Minorities (typically black students) were being brought to certain schools in order to create some form of racial equilibrium and end the system of implicit segregation (which was actually declared unconstitutional in 1968, yet was still being practiced).
This legal ruling by Judge W. Arthur Garrity Jr. (who was personally attacked after his decision) was tremendously criticized by Boston residents. Many of the groups who were in opposition to any form of forced busing (primarily due to racial intolerance) actually took their hatred and ignorance to the streets, publically beating black Boston residents like Ted Landsmark, who was almost impaled by an American flag, as a group of young white men attacked him at Boston’s City Hall (while protesting Garrity’s ruling).
All of this was going on as Jim Rice was just hitting the field for Boston. Nonetheless, none of this is truly a surprise, as the history of the Red Sox (a reflection of the Boston area) as a racially unjust organization is well documented.
When thought of in retrospect, this is an amazing task for a man to face when he is essentially viewed as an enemy by a large contingent of Boston fans who were supposed to be “his” fans, simultaneously. Maybe this can shed some light on Jim Rice’s media demeanor, or maybe the two were never directly connected. Either way, it seems hard to realistically seperate them.
For Rice, I didn’t even get into the racism he may have directly experienced (by fans, ownership, players?) while playing for the team. Instead, simply introducing the context which he lived in and played baseball in, definitely serves as an indication to what he was facing as a prominent black man in Boston (he still managed to put up historic figures).
Dave Parker, on the other hand, can provide us with some perspective on such a topic.
Parker, while playing for the Pittsburgh Pirates for most of the 70’s and early 80’s became a racially implosive figure due to his sheer dominance as a ballplayer and the rewards which would soon follow his performance. As the 1970’s ended and the 1980’s began, Parker was coming off of two tremendous seasons (in 78 he was awarded NL MVP, 79 he was the All Star Game MVP and helped the Pirates win a WS title against the Orioles) and for his achievements, was rewarded with a very lucrative contract.
However, things didn’t get much better for Dave Parker in Pittsburgh.
Here’s a descriptive portion of Richard Scheinin’s book ”Field of Screams” that details what Parker went through (pg. 370).
Unfortunately as the the decade closed, two things happened: Parker’s salary soared astronomically, and Pittsburgh’s blue-collar steel-based economy collapsed. “Here comes Dave Parker,” says Pirate baseball historian Paul Adomites, painting the scene, “a six-foot-five-inch black man with a large attitude and a diamond in his ear, making a million dollars, and the people were being laid off at the mills, and it was a little too much for them to handle.” On Opening Day 1980, someone threw a bag of nuts and bolts just past Parker’s head in right field. On a Sunday in July, 43, 194 fans poured into Three Rivers Stadium for Willie Stargell Day and a doubleheader against the Dodgers. There were more missles thrown at Parker, and when, in the eighth inning, a nine-volt transistor radio battery hummed past his cap, Parker left the game.
Scheinin goes on to address Parker’s reaction to his so-called fans, which seems somewhat similar to Jime Rice’s situation:
The greatest Pirate outfielder since Clemente was under physical attack by his hometown fans, and he didn’t forgive them. He attacked them in the press, and as his batting average plummeted over the next couple of years, and as word spread that Parker had a drug problem (cocaine), the fans of working-class Pittsburgh grew more belligerent.
Now, as you can see, black figures in baseball have always had one hell of path to follow, especially when racism and ignorance are involved. Jim Rice and Dave Parker are no different, as they were tremendous ballplayers, visions of excellence during some extremely reprehensible times. But, as HOF’ers do, they played through the hardships, no matter how terrible they were or how prominent they may have been during their particular careers.
When viewing that picture at SI’s website, I must say, it is a rather breathtaking moment when you realize the racial history captured by these two players alone. In terms of the HOF debate, I recently read a post from the True Yankees Blog which criticized an article (on the Yankees’ website) that asked if Chuck Knoublauch had a chance of being in the HOF someday.
Chuck Knoblauch has nothing to do with this post, but, the the author of that entry brought up three specific guidelines that must (according to the author) be utilized when judging a guy’s HOF eligibility. The three factors were:
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Flashes of Brilliance
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Unreal Career Numbers
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Greatness
Now, when viewed alongside the racial history of American society and the racially volatile context in which Jim Rice and Dave Parker played, is it wrong to say that they reached a level of greatness that extends beyond baseball’s traditional notions of the word? They’ve already displayed flashes of brilliance (multiple awards) and phenomenal career numbers.
It appears as though social context is left out nowadays when evaluating a player. Of course, that’s not the case when steroids are in play, but racism and equality have no effect on the numbers, so I guess they don’t count.
If writers would take this stuff a bit more seriously, then maybe we wouldn’t get quotes like this one, from ESPN’s Jayson Stark, as he describes Jim Rice.
“My reservation about Rice is that he was a one dimensional player…You essentially have to vote him in as a hitter only, because he DH-ed extensively. He gave you no speed, no Gold Gloves, no off-field ‘character-and-integrity’ points.” Jayson Stark, ESPN.com, 1/15/2001
Really? None whatsoever?