Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, July 3, 1994 TAG: 9407030023
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C5 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MICHAEL HOLLEY AKRON BEACON-JOURNAL
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Nor was there any law stating voting was a basic right of every black American.
The nation was 10 years away from the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X.
And no matter where you lived, be it in Cleveland or Birmingham, there were two sets of rules woven into the country's culture: one for whites and one for blacks.
These were the most effective of rules, because they didn't need constant reinforcement. Black folks knew where they were wanted, and they went there. Cross the line, and somebody was going to come up swinging.
While baseball might have been the American pastime, it hardly was exempt from the laws of the land. There were leagues for blacks and non-whites and leagues for whites.
"When you think back to that, it's terrible. That whole situation was a travesty, an injustice," said Al Rosen, a baseball player with the Cleveland Indians at the time. "It will always be a blot in this country's history."
Rosen, a white man, knows. When his team's season started in 1947, there were no black players in the American League. On July 5, there was one - Larry Doby. And he was on Rosen's team.
It was 47 years ago Doby followed Jackie Robinson into the major leagues.
It was 47 years ago Doby and Rosen became good friends.
And today at Jacobs Field in Cleveland, almost 47 years to the day he joined the Indians, Doby will see his jersey retired - as have Bob Feller, Mel Harder, Lou Boudreau and Earl Averill.
Those who know Doby have different memories of the man who led the American League in RBI in '54. Yet they all agree that retiring the No. 14 jersey is necessary - and, of course, historical.
"That's why you'll see me there for the ceremony," said Buck O'Neil, a Negro League player and manager with the Kansas City Monarchs. "We appreciate this."
O'Neil is 11 years older than Doby, and the two competed in the 1946 championship series won by Doby's Newark Eagles. Yet Doby's jersey retirement is for himself and O'Neil.
It's also for Josh Gibson, Judy Johnson and Oscar Charleston.
It's for Rube Foster, Cool Papa Bell and Sam Jethroe.
\ The player
By most accounts, it would be hard to find fault with anything Doby did for the Indians.
A natural at second base, Doby learned a new position - center field - in his first full season with the team. He hit .301 with 16 home runs in the regular season. And in the 1948 World Series, which the Indians won, he led the team with a .318 batting average.
His career numbers are just as impressive: a .283 average, 253 home runs and 969 RBI. But Larry Doby wanted more.
"He was just a hell of a ballplayer," said Al Lopez, who managed the Indians from 1951-56. "Doby, Rosen, [Vic) Wertz held the club together in '54. The only thing about Doby was that he fought himself a lot.
"If he struck out, he really got on himself. As I said, he was a great player, but if he hadn't fought himself, I think he could have been even better."
That's not to say Lopez didn't know why there was a struggle within Doby. And that's not to say Lopez thought there were any words that could make the endless war cease.
"He was the first black player in the American League and there was pressure," Lopez said. "He gave everything he had when he came to the park, but he always wanted to do better."
Most of his teammates were friendly, but this still was an openly racist America.
Doby was black and couldn't stay in hotels with his teammates in most cities. He couldn't eat with them. And he couldn't afford the luxury of an "average" at-bat on the road.
If he did strike out, he expected to hear applause mixed with racial taunts.
That's why his "fight" was understandable.
Doby grew up in a racially mixed neighborhood in Paterson, N.J. He has said many times how he loved going to parties where blacks and whites got along without race being an issue.
But that was a situation of blacks and whites. In the American League, he was The Black facing thousands of whites daily.
"Considering the prejudice and the bias he faced at all times, I think he handled himself very well," Rosen said. "At times he had to be introspective. Racism was there - we knew it and he knew it. You could sense it. You could hear it.
"But on top of all that, he was a great player. He was one of the few men who could carry a club by himself when he got hot.
"He was the standard-bearer and he played like it. He was that kind of player."
\ The manager
Since today will be a time of celebration, most people talked about the good times.
But an argument could be made that Larry Doby deserved more than the 87 games he got as a manager of the Chicago White Sox in 1978.
Again, he had a familiar racial tag following his name: the second black manager in baseball history (Frank Robinson was the first, with the Indians in 1975).
At the end of the '78 season, the White Sox basically fired Doby. He hasn't slung the hurt on his shoulder and toted it like some sawed-off weapon, but he has said many times it still hurts.
And once again, it's not an individual hurt.
"Larry was qualified as a manager, but he's not the only one," said O'Neil, who in 1962 became the first black coach in major-league history. "I knew [Negro League managers] Ben Taylor and `Gentleman Dave' Malarcher. A lot of guys were and are qualified for positions like that."
\ The struggle
Sixteen years later, Doby works with Major League Baseball Properties in New York. He declined to return telephone messages left at his office and home seeking an interview.
Since he left the White Sox, a black man - Cito Gaston - has managed a team to two World Series titles.
The president of the National League is a black man - Len Coleman - and he succeeded a black man - Bill White.
And there are statistical bureaus that can detail almost everything about a player, the least of which is his race.
Yet the struggle Larry Doby felt for most of his first eight years with the Indians continues.
"I'm happy that Larry is having his number retired, but this is long overdue," O'Neil said. "Now, I'd like to see someone black - someone like a Michael Jordan who has money and can get people to back him - buy a baseball team."
Outside of the Negro League, this was something black people didn't see as reality in 1947. The fact it is being talked about now is another reason former teammates from the Newark Eagles, as well as O'Neil, will travel to Cleveland and celebrate.
"I'm not at all surprised that this is happening," Lopez said. "Larry deserves this."
In this case, anyone who disagrees will be the first.
by CNB