The Chicago Cubs are in the 2016 World Series. Good for them. They’re a great team. So, why am I so bitter and resentful? Why did I root against them vs. the LA Dodgers? Could it be that I’m a St. Louis Cardinals fan, and that my allegiance—like that of so many sports fans–is a tribal thing? And is my identity as a liberal/progressive just another form of tribalism?

Growing up in the 1950s and 60s, I think I had come to expect evolutionary social progress. In the 1970s, I thought we were on the brink of shedding our tribal identities and becoming a more open, accepting, inclusive and big-thinking society.

Things have not turned out that way.

In fact, we’ve gone in the opposite direction. Looking at the American political landscape, it’s clear that, rather than thinking beyond our political party identities, we’ve become more entrenched. That goes for individuals as well as politicians. Democrats and Republicans have become warring tribes. Donald Trump behaves more like a tribal warlord than a person aspiring to the presidency—inciting violence and vengeance instead of looking for peace among people with differing identities and opinions. We’re the red tribe against the blue tribe. Congressional representatives who call themselves leaders are more akin to clan elders than to rivals seeking ways to overcome their differences for the good of something bigger than themselves. [I’m talking to you, Mitch McConnell.]

This situation reminds me of Mel Brooks’ classic comedy routine, “The 2000-year-old Man.” Brooks plays the title role, with sidekick Carl Reiner as a newspaper reporter interviewing him. Among other questions, Reiner asks, “Back in your caveman days, did you have national anthems?” Brooks answers, “Oh yeah.” “Well, can you sing yours for us,” asks Reiner. Here’s an animated version of what happened next:

Of course, as Brooks hilariously demonstrates, belonging to a tribe and asserting your group’s superiority is as old as human society. So, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that our political culture reflects that human inclination.

And as a baseball fan, I probably should have expected this. Team allegiances have been a fixture in the sports world for more than a century. As my 102-year-old mother has reminded me many times, when she was a young girl in Cleveland, her father made her memorize the nicknames of all of the major league baseball teams—most of whose players were natives of the towns they played in and for. You could say that these fanatic loyalties were the precursors—and perhaps even the role models—for the fixed political identities that have emerged in the late 20^th and early 21th centuries. A Cubs fan is a Cubs fan forever. Same for the Yankees, the Dodgers and the Cardinals, too. Win or lose. Ditto for people who identify as Republicans or Democrats.

The ironic thing is that, as I muse on this topic, I find myself rooting in the World Series for the team from the city I grew up in, and whose nickname is “The Tribe.”

The post Tribalism in baseball and politics: World Series edition appeared first on Occasional Planet.

From time to time, Congress has involved itself in the world of baseball.  Now it’s time for Congress to look at baseball for a possible solution to its current gridlock.

CNN contributor Bob Greene recently wrote about how baseball has experienced considerable gridlock over the past half-century.  Who would think that our national pastime would be put on hold because the owners and the players could not get along?  Actually, the question is not whimsical; the dynamics of greedy owners and players seeking justice led to a number of strikes, lock outs, and general work stoppages in the game.  At first it was owners versus players who had to maintain extra jobs; now it is billionaires versus millionaires.

Greene writes:

The sport, which is currently moving through its postseason and toward the World Series, is hardly without its own troubles; it has endured its share of shutdowns, strikes and lockouts. It was during one of those work stoppages — the seven-week strike of 1981– that an anguished fan pleaded publicly with the leaders of the sport, both the owners and the players, to come to their senses.

The fan was Bart Giamatti, who at the time was the president of Yale University and who would go on to become the commissioner of Major League Baseball. Giamatti, frustrated by the posturing and excuses on both sides, wrote that the failure to open up the gates of the ballparks was “utter foolishness. … The people of America care about baseball, not about your squalid little squabbles. Reassume your dignity and remember that you are the temporary custodians of an enduring public trust.”

For many Americans, the current gridlock in Washington is a “squalid little squabble.”  Yes, Tea Party members see it as a matter of principle as do progressives on their side.  But most people do not understand the issues at play and this is why they take an “a pox on both of your houses” attitude.  This is why they cannot see that President Obama and most Democrats want government to play a vital and necessary role in the functioning of our society whereas the Republicans seem to have little or no cares about the well-being of the American people, particularly those who are of limited financial means.

It is not President Obama or the Democrats who want a “work stoppage” now.  They know that a functioning government is what almost all Americans want, just as baseball fans want the game to continue rather than having petty squabbles among parties that generally eschew principle for pure financial gain.

Or as Bob Greene puts it:

That the majority of the public — the employers of these officials — want the government to open back up seems to have mattered little to those entrusted with the authority to open it. The politicians’ belated nervous scrambling of the last few days, prompted by the citizens’ disdain, has only highlighted how badly they overestimated the limits of the country’s patience.

The sooner that the leaders of government — the “temporary custodians of an enduring public trust” — fully comprehend that there is, and will be, no general sympathy heading their way, either, the sooner they may realize that it’s time to step away from the television cameras and cease their futile search for that sympathy.  And instead do the jobs they are being paid to do.

In most labor disputes in baseball, it was the owners who caved in because the public had very little sympathy for them.  It was the players with whom the fans identified.

In Washington, the public seems to be disgusted with both sides.  But the President has considerably more support than the Republicans in Congress.  As everyone’s popularity goes down, it is the Republicans who will first zero out.  The site of John Boehner carping is not a pleasant sight at any time.  Mr. Boehner, please give us all a break and serve your own political interests at the same time.  Let the country get back to work.  Play ball!

The post It’s Washington’s turn to learn from baseball appeared first on Occasional Planet.

The new movie, “42,” tells the should-be-well-known story of Jackie Robinson, the first black player in major league baseball. For American sports fans of a certain vintage, the breaking of the color line in major league baseball in April 1947 is a familiar story of courage and grace under fire. But for baseball agnostics and for younger generations, the facts–and worse yet, the meaning–of Robinson’s story are already getting lost in the shuffle, only 60+ years down the line.  Sadly, the movie also offers yet another example of how some of the  hard-won social breakthroughs of the 20th century have been allowed to erode–or have never really been completely accomplished at all.

So, “42” comes at an opportune time. Although I’m skeptical–as I have written before–of movies claiming to be “based on a true story,” I didn’t fact-check this one, because it seems to have gotten the basics of the story right: Branch Rickey, who ran the Brooklyn Dodgers in the 1940s, decided to add a black player to his roster–perhaps, as is suggested in the movie, because of a personal hurt he experienced as a child–or perhaps because he recognized that the Negro leagues of the era had exceptional ballplayers whose skills could provide the advantage Rickey needed to win a World Series with his team, and of course, sell more tickets. Legend–and this movie [plus an earlier version made in 1950]–has it that Rickey chose Robinson because he was a speedy base runner with a great bat, and because he seemed to have the grit necessary to withstand the racial hatred that was bound to come his way.

History tells us that Rickey was right, even if the story has been idealized by Hollywood. And, to its credit, “42” doesn’t hold back in depicting the virulent racism that Robinson faced. The “n word,” as we’ve sanitized it in our contemporary, politically correct world, is used abundantly. We hear fans screaming it, players and managers taunting Robinson with it, and even children shouting it out. We even read it in hate mail Robinson received via the Brooklyn Dodgers front office.  Through it all, Robinson holds his temper–publicly–because he knows that to act as an angry black man would be to confirm the racial stereotypes of those who hated him for his color and for his audacity in integrating the white-man’s game.

What I took away from “42” was not just that Branch Rickey was a shrewd baseball man and perhaps a social iconoclast, and not just that Jackie Robinson was a remarkable baseball player and accidental role model who refused to crumple under pressure.

I left the movie theater remembering that, 60 years later, Barack Obama’s quest to integrate the white-man’s White House was a story with many parallels to that of Jackie Robinson. I thought about the many attempts, during the 2012 presidential election, by Republican state legislatures to game the voting system in a way that, essentially, disenfranchised black voters. And a few days later, I read that, in April 2013, the governor of Georgia refused to support the idea of a racially integrated high-school prom in a school district in his state.

How naive of us to think that Jackie Robinson, Brown v. Board of Education, Martin Luther King, the Civil Rights movement, the Voting Rights Act, and the fact of President Barack Obama had settled the race issue in America.

Similarly, other 20th century battles that many of us thought (okay, hoped) were settled are still not done: Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts has called Roe v. Wade “settled law.” But even that pronouncement doesn’t put the reproductive rights issue to rest. Workers’ rights and collective bargaining–painstakingly won over many years of the early 20th century–are under fire and are being undone at an alarming pace. And for all of our pride in the progress of women in the U.S., we still haven’t passed an Equal Rights Amendment to the constitution, and the closest we can get to pay equality for women is the baby step of the Lily Ledbetter Act.

It’s sad and disillusioning for a lifelong, card-carrying, bleeding-heart liberal like me. I can only hope that history is cyclical, and that the pendulum will swing back again toward expanded human and civil rights, and  more empathy and generosity of spirit–and that the lessons we should have learned from stories like that of Jackie Robinson won’t be lost forever.

The post “42:” Jackie Robinson and America’s unfinished social agenda appeared first on Occasional Planet.

What do Hunter Wendelstedt (a major-league baseball umpire) and Supreme Court Justice William R. Day (term in office: 1903-1922) have in common? You can find out by playing  the on-line game, Oyez Baseball. As you play, you score runs—or strike out—by correctly or incorrectly identifying a Supreme Court justice whose record or role on the Court parallels a major-league baseball player’s career.

The aim of the game is to help people learn about the Supreme Court by capitalizing on our national obsession with baseball. According to the game’s originators, there are many parallels.

On the Supreme Court, greatness or mediocrity derives from a justice’s accomplishments or lack thereof. The same is true for ballplayers. The Court vests its nine occupants with awesome responsibility. Some justices, like some players, are blessed with skills that not only generate tremendous personal achievements, but can transform their institutions, and sometimes even American culture. Others are quickly forgettable, while most toil somewhere in between. The qualities that make some justices great and others mediocre are difficult to explain fully and justify to those unversed in the Court’s work. But most everyone understands baseball-and baseball may be the best way to reveal greatness or mediocrity. Hence, Oyez® Baseball.

The Law-Baseball Quiz” debuted in the New York Times on April 4, 1979. Created by law professor Robert M. Cover, it compared baseball players and Supreme Court Justices. Unlike Eddie Gaedel, the midget in baseball’s most publicized stunt, the Quiz has delighted and stumped enthusiasts on many occasions since it first appeared.

Oyez Baseball is an enlarged version of Professor Cover’s initial vision. We have simply burnished the metaphor that Professor Cover summoned to describe baseball personalities and justices.

Try it. You may not come away remembering anything about the Supreme Court justices in the quiz, but it’s a delightfully clever juxtaposition.

Postscript: Associate Justice Day reportedly asked his clerk for “regular updates,” during the bench hearing of Standard Sanitary Mfg. Co. v. United States, about the final game of the 1912 World Series.

The post Play baseball, learn about Supreme Court! appeared first on Occasional Planet.

In 1995, the percentage of African-American players on the Cardinals was above the league average.  In 2009 it was one-fourth the league average, and as the 2010 season begins there are no African-American players on the Cardinals roster or coaching staff.

Below is a partial chronology of important events in the history of African-American players on the Cardinals.

• The first African-American to play for the Cardinals was Tom Alston in 1954, seven years after the major league color barrier was broken by Jackie Robinson and the Brooklyn Dodgers.
• There were African-American players on the Cardinals during the final thirteen years of the first Busch Stadium (Sportsman’s Park).
• In 1964, the Cardinals defeated the New York Yankees in the World Series, four games to three.  There were at least four outstanding African-Americans on the team: Lou Brock, Curt Flood, Bob Gibson, and Bill White.  Brock and Gibson are in the Hall of Fame; Flood paved the way to free agency for players, and White became president of the National League.
• In 1995, journalist David Halberstam published a book about the 1964 World Series.  It was called October 1964.
• The review of October 1964 by Amazon.com states:

The 1964 World Series between the Yankees and Cardinals was coated in myth from the get-go. The Yankees represented the establishment: white, powerful, and seemingly invincible. The victorious Cards, on the other hand, were baseball’s rebellious future: angry and defiant, black, and challenging. Their seven-game barnburner, played out against a backdrop of an America emerging from the Kennedy assassination, escalating the war in Vietnam, and struggling with civil rights, marked a turning point–neither the nation, nor baseball, would ever be quite so innocent again.

• There were African-American players on the Cardinals all forty years that the team played in the second Busch Stadium (1966 – 2005).
• The Cardinals won the National League pennant in 1967 and 1968.  In 1967 they won the World Series.  Among the African-American players on these teams were Brock, Flood, Gibson, Al Jackson, Alex Johnson, Dave Ricketts, Ted Savage and Bobby Tolan.
• In 1975, the percentage of African-American players in the major leagues was 27%, the highest in the history of the game.
• The Cardinals won the World Series in 1982 against the Milwaukee Brewers.  Among the African-American players on the team were George Hendrick, Tito Landrum, Willie McGee, Lonnie Smith and Ozzie Smith.
• There have been only four African-American players on the Cardinals since moving into the third Busch Stadium in 2006.  They are Brian Barton, Joe Thurston, Rico Washington, and Preston Wilson.  None of the four has been a consistent starter.
• The Cardinals won the World Series in 2006 against the Detroit Tigers.  Preston Wilson was the only African-American player on the team.
• In 1996, the first year that Tony LaRussa was manager of the Cardinals and Bill DeWitt, Jr.’s syndicate owned the team, 24% of the players on the roster were African-American.  This was both 7% greater than the major league average for that year and 7% greater than the 1995 Cardinal team under previous ownership and management.
• The 2006 championship team was 2.44% African-American.  The league average that year was 9%.
• 2007 was the low-point of African-American players in the major leagues since integration.  8.2% of the players in the League were African-American; 2.22% of the players on the Cardinal roster were African-American.
• In 2009, the percentage of African-American players in the major leagues rose to 10.2%.  The Cardinal percentage was 2.77%
• On opening day, 2010, the percentage of African-Americans on the Cardinals was 0%.  For the first time in years, there was also no African-American on the team coaching staff.  We do not have figures for the entire league.
• In the history of the third Busch Stadium, 5,761 innings have been pitched by Cardinal hurlers.  Not one pitch by a Cardinal has been thrown by an African-American.
• In the history of the third Busch Stadium, 4.89% of the Cardinal at-bats have been by African-American players.  In 1996, the first year with DeWitt as owner and LaRussa as manager, 41.33% of the Cardinal at-bats were by African-American players.

Change happens for better or worse.

Link to Part I
Link to Part II

Link to article on “St. Louis Baseball in Black and White” on Corresponding Fractions blog.

n 1996 was the first year of the William DeWitt / Tony LaRussa era

n 2006 – 2009 are recent years in Busch Stadium III

The post Baseball and Politics – Part III appeared first on Occasional Planet.

I went off to college at American University in September, 1965; the Cardinals were still technically world champions, but there would be no miracle this year.  American University was a logical choice; I loved politics and where better to be than Washington, DC.  I also loved baseball and the old Washington Senators always had plenty of seats available.  The Baltimore Orioles (formerly St. Louis Browns) were just 40 miles up the Baltimore-Washington Parkway.

I had been in Los Angeles the month before, but not when the impoverished Watts neighborhood exploded with one of America’s largest race riots to date; 34 people had been killed, 1,032 injured and 3,952 arrested.  It was then that we began to hear the term “rising expectations;” that African-Americans (then called ‘Negroes’ and about to be called ‘blacks’) found that legislative gains and increasing white awareness of their plight had not resulted in decent jobs, good schools, adequate and accessible health care, and de facto equal rights.

The next three summers were characterized by “racial disturbances” (i.e. riots) in over 100 American cities.  St. Louis was the only major city that seemed to escape the carnage.  Theories abounded: St. Louis was neither a northern nor a southern town; there was less (or was it more?) police brutality than elsewhere; and of course everybody’s favorite; the town was otherwise occupied in 1967 and 1968 as the Cardinals once again won the National League pennants.  True or not, race relations and the Cardinals were inexorably mixed in the late 1960s.  What did Bob Gibson, who could be so intimidating on the mound, think about the civil rights struggle and accompanying violence?  What about Cardinal center fielder Curt Flood?  When he was traded following the 1969 season while making $90,000 / year (among the highest salaries in baseball), he likened the reserve clause which took away his freedom to decide for which team he wanted to play, as slavery.  The players didn’t speak publicly about political issues, which while frustrating to a fan, only allowed us to play the game of speculation all the more.  When Flood (along with teammate Tim McCarver) was traded following the 1969 season, it took a large bite out of the hearts of many Cardinal fans.

It almost seemed that the Cardinals were cursed by the trade during the 1970s; they almost always competed but never won the National League Eastern Division (baseball was now

fragmented into divisional play).  There was still a political presence on the team; catcher Ted Simmons openly expressed his opposition to the Vietnam War and for those of us who questioned blind authority, he was a refreshing presence on the team.  His wife, MaryAnne, started a magazine exclusively for baseball wives.  It brought the women’s liberation movement to women who otherwise never would have been enlightened.

Before the 1982 season, manager / general manager Whitey Herzog traded Simmons, perhaps because Herzog thought that his authority would be questioned.  But that same off-season he acquired shortstop Ozzie Smith.  Mr. Herzog must have known something because he put together a championship team that year.  In 1985 and 1987 the team won the National League pennant only to lose seven-game World Series in the most frustrating of ways.   The teams of the 1980s were richly integrated with Smith, Jack Clark Vince Coleman, (Silent) George Hendrick, Tommy Herr, Lance Johnson, Tito Landrum, Jim Lindeman, Willie McGee, Terry Pendleton, Lonnie Smith and Andy Van Slyke.  Had it not been for an errant call at first base in Game 6 of the 1985 World Series and an outfield wall made of Hefty bags in 1987, the Cardinals teams of the mid-1980s might have qualified as a dynasty.

A dry spell ensued; nine years after the 1987 pennant-winning team, Tony LaRussa took the helm of the team.  After a slow start, the team romped to winning the Central Division of the National League by six games.  In the first round of the playoffs they swept the San Diego Padres, but blew a 3-2 game lead in the League Championship Series by tanking in the final two games in Atlanta.  The team had a diverse group of players; over 46% of the at-bats were taken by African-American players; a remarkable figure for any team in any year.  But the team did not seem to have the harmony of the Cardinal teams of the 1960s or 1980s; the impact of long-term contracts and some inflated salaries took their toll on the Cardinals and other teams as well.

Two years later Mark McGwire was on the Cardinals and along with Sammy Sosa they revived baseball with their combined 135 home runs.  As you know, there are associated factors to this story and you can read about them elsewhere.  The team continued to win, but baseball began to change in St. Louis.  It became more and more corporate and there was less diversity on the field.  The new owners bullied the community into an unnecessary new stadium with fewer seats, more luxury boxes, higher prices, and a still unfulfilled promise of a “Ballpark Village” on the site of the previous stadium.  Ownership prospered; taxpayers sacrificed tens of millions of dollars in lost revenue.  The fans didn’t seem to mind; they passed through the turnstiles of the new stadium at a rate of over three million a year, including 2009 in the midst of “the great recession.”  And as we said, the team, while very likable and competitive, entered the 2010 season without a single African-American on the roster as a player or coach.

The teams of the 1960s were intricately tied with the social progress and upheaval of the time.  A large part of the excitement of going to the ballpark was seeing integration work; a special bond among a diverse group of players.  It helped build an ethos that served as a model for people in other industries.  This was especially so in St. Louis because the team was so successful and the team as a group was a collection of very unique individuals.  It was true elsewhere; I loved going to games in Baltimore and seeing the Robinsons (Frank and Brooks) form the nucleus of outstanding teams that also reflected the demographics of the community.

In many ways today’s Cardinals team may reflect a portion of our current body politic.  For me the opening of Spring Training this year was somewhat disturbing when relief pitcher Ryan Franklin took issue with the league’s policy of no guns permitted in the clubhouse.  Somehow his concern for his gun rights just doesn’t measure up to Curt Floods personal sacrifice to remove the shackles of the rules of the game that bound a player to a single team for the entirety of his career.  It’s a different game now for a different audience.  I hope that you’ll pardon me if I this season I choose not to visit Mr. DeWitt’s palace and further fill his coffers.  I still love the game, and when the renaissance occurs, I’ll be there.

Link to Part I
Link to Part III

The post Baseball and Politics – Part II appeared first on Occasional Planet.

Like many people, two of my primary interests are politics and sports.  They both lend themselves to statistical analysis; they have “seasons” (in both cases too long); and winners are sometimes the wealthy front-runners (George W. Bush or the New York Yankees); other times they are among those with the least resources (Dennis Kucinich or the 2008 Tampa Bay Rays).  It is no accident that Nate Silver, the publisher of what is considered to be the most reliable political forecaster (Fivethirtyeight.com) developed his skills handicapping baseball players through a method called baseball sabermetrics.

Thursday we will turn a statistical eye at the history of African-American players on the Cardinals.   For now, let us just say that yesterday, for the first time in 56 years, the Cardinals opened the season with no African-American players on its roster.

The current team is a very good one; reigning National League Central Division champions and odds-on favorite to repeat this year.  It’s a likable team; there are some great hustlers like Brendan Ryan, Skip Schumaker, and Ryan Ludwick.  Albert Pujols may be the finest player to ever don a Cardinal uniform; Matt Holiday is productive, Colby Rasmus is developing into a future star and Yadier Molina may be the game’s most exciting catcher.

The historian Ken Burns produced a wonderful series on PBS called “Baseball.”  He focuses on the evolution of the game, featuring its superstars (far too little attention paid to Stan Musial).  But as a historian, he weaves the history of baseball into the social and economic trends of this country’s legacy.  He has an “inning” (chapter) called “Shadow Ball” about the Negro Leagues that provided separate and unequal opportunities for African-Americans, primarily in the 1920s through the 1940s.  As America changed, so did baseball.  In September, 1945, five months after assuming office, President Harry S Truman began the process of integrating the army.  Only a month later, Brooklyn Dodger general manager Branch Rickey signed Jackie Robinson to a professional contract.  After a year in the minor leagues, Jackie Robinson was on the Dodger opening day roster in 1947 (I feel lucky to have been born the next day and to have always lived in an integrated baseball era).  Eleven weeks later Cleveland Indians general manager Bill Veeck signed Larry Doby who took the field for the team that July 5.  Baseball was integrated; the trend was inexorable.  The first African-American to play for the Cardinals was Tom Alston in 1952.  The last team to integrate was the Boston Red Sox in 1959.

As the country struggled with integration, so did baseball.  Most of the early great African-American players endured treatment in the south ranging from separate and unequal to outright harassment including death threats.  Spring training in Florida was not much better; finally in 1964 a group of African-Americans on the Cardinals convinced owner Gussie Busch to insist on housing the team under one roof in an integrated hotel in St. Petersburg.

The 1964 Cardinal team gelled into a winning team with a special bond between African- American, Hispanic and white players.  But with two weeks remaining in the season they were six and a half games behind the Philadelphia Phillies with a dozen games to play.  What ensued thereafter was remarkable; the Cardinals became a winning juggernaut and the Phillies “pholded.”  Their demise is generally attributed to manager Gene Mauch’s decision to repeatedly use pitchers Chris Short and Jim Bunning on only two days rest.  If you’ve been watching the U.S. Senate lately, you may have noticed that Bunning, now a U.S. Senator from Kentucky, may have suffered permanent damage from the debacle.  The Cardinals, under the cool guidance of manager Johnny Keane, kept winning and when the season was over; their record of 93-69 was one game better than the Phillies and Cincinnati Reds.

The Cardinals entered the World Series as decided underdogs to the vaunted New York Yankees.  As mentioned previously, the Cardinals won the series four games to three and thirty-one years later the seven-games were chronicled by historian David Halberstam in his book October 1964.  A review from Amazon.com states:

The 1964 World Series between the Yankees and Cardinals was coated in myth from the get-go. The Yankees represented the establishment: white, powerful, and seemingly invincible. The victorious Cards, on the other hand, were baseball’s rebellious future: angry and defiant, black, and challenging. Their seven-game barnburner, played out against a backdrop of an America emerging from the Kennedy assassination, escalating the war in Vietnam, and struggling with civil rights, marked a turning point–neither the nation, nor baseball, would ever be quite so innocent again.

On July 2, midway through the season, Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1964 that outlawed unequal application of voter registration requirements and racial segregation in schools, at the workplace and by facilities that served the public.  It prohibited discrimination in public facilities, in government, and in employment.

If you lived in St. Louis, there was a synergy of events as the country moved towards tearing down racial barriers and the Cardinals won the World Series with a truly integrated team.  It was a year when black and white St. Louisans joined the freedom riders, traveling south to face the angry voices in opposition to integration.  It was also a year in which the Cardinals played in a stadium at Grand and Dodier Avenues in north St. Louis.  No one could attend a game without walking through a sea of poverty and seeing faces that bore the stress of years of racial discrimination.

The country was in a period of racial transition; one that we would learn later would have many triumphs and moments of despair.  That continues today.  The 1964 Cardinals showed that baseball was right in the middle of the struggle.  If you were working and hoping for more racial equality and justice, it was a wonderful time to be a Cardinal fan, but the future of the team’s play on the field and unique composition of the roster were always unpredictable variables.  And so it is still today.

Link to Part II
Link to Part III

The post Baseball and Politics – Part I appeared first on Occasional Planet.