The Fits And Starts Of Baseball Integration

By now even the most casual baseball fan is familiar with the story of Jackie Robinson and his breaking of the "color line" in organized baseball. Robinson's fearlessness, temperament, grace, not to mention pure baseball ability and exciting style of play, made him the perfect symbol of the changing of the guard in the fusty world of professional baseball from the Old to the New. In Branch Rickey, we have the perfect benevolent and wise father figure, who ushered in the new age of enlightenment in the face of resistance from his less reasonable brethren - his fellow owners. Like many mythologies, the story, although over-simplified, has the power over us that it does because it is basically true. But integration in baseball did bot begin with Robinson, nor sadly, did the floodgates of goodwill and fairness toward African-American players open immediately after Robinson's heroic first seasons.

Left: Charlie Grant, or "Charlie Tokohama".

As far back as 1901, the very first year of what is considered the "modern era" of major league baseball, efforts were made to challenge - or at least circumvent - the so-called "gentleman's agreement" which barred only black players from the game. In that season John McGraw of the Baltimore Orioles (forerunners of the franchise we know today as the New York Yankees) hired one Charlie Grant, and tried to pass him off as Native American "Charlie Tokohama". When many of Grant's suspiciously non-Indian looking friends came out to the ballpark to see "Tokohama" play, McGraw's ruse was exposed, and the experiment quickly ended.

In 1916 Canadian Jimmy Claxton was briefly signed by the Oakland club of the Pacific Coast League, again using the Native American ruse, and Claxton's time with the Oaks ended as suddenly as it began. It would be 30 year before the PCL would see another black player.

The great baseball owner and raconteur Bill Veeck often stated that he tried to buy the hapless Phillies in 1943 and stock them with top Negro league stars. Although it is very easy to believe that Veeck's lively mind came up with this idea, there is scant evidence beyond Veeck's own claims to suggest he ever tried to go through with it.

The big bats of the Washington Homestead Grays.

Another story has to do with Senators owner Clark Griffith watching the Homestead Grays (who played home games in Washington) take batting practice. It didn't take much more than seeing Josh Gibson and Buck Leonard crush ball after ball out of Griffith Stadium for him to realize what kind of team the lowly Senators would be if he could sign these sluggers. But alas it was not to be.

Then there is the story told to me by Cuban baseball historian Edel Casas in Havana many years ago: Branch Rickey had been looking for that special player for some time before he eventually set his sites on Robinson. The Dodgers used to play exhibition games in Cuba and the great slugging shortstop and pitcher, the dark-skinned Cuban player Silvio Garcia went 8 for 21 against the Brooklyn club in a 1942 exhibition series. Rickey supposedly asked the Cuban the same question he would later pose to Robinson: "What will you do the first time a white player slaps your face?" Garcia's answer? "I will kill him". Needless to say, Garcia was not chosen to fulfill the role Rickey had in mind.

It should also be noted that the minor leagues - as part of organized baseball - followed the same rigid code of segregation as the majors, but there were pockets of resistance. The Provincial League of Quebec was a haven for black ballplayers during the years when the league was "independent", and therefore not subject to the strictures of organized ball. But when the league joined organized ball as a Class C circuit, the ban on black players was strictly enforced. In the South - with Jim Crow laws very much still on the books - the story was predictable. The most important loop - the Southern Association - never did integrate, a fact that partly explained its demise in 1960. When the Hot Springs Bathers tried to field two black pitchers in 1953, the club was initially ousted from the league, and a major crisis ensued for minor league baseball.

Left: Elston Howard as a Kansas City Monarch

Let's look at the majors post-1947, when one might think that after having seen Robinson succeed in the majors, and knowing full well the depth of talent available in the Negro leagues, that there would have been a rush from all sides to scoop up the best players. Yet this didn't happen. Teams like the Dodgers and Giants were very aggressive in signing black (and later Hispanic) players, and clearly benefited from the infusion of talent and excitement stars like Robinson, Satchel Paige, Willie Mays and Hank Aaron brought to their new clubs. At the other extreme, the Boston Red Sox simply found it quite impossible to find the "right" black player for over a decade. It was not until 1959 that the Bosox grudgingly brought up the frankly mediocre Pumpsie Green to "integrate" the club as its sole African-American member. The great and mighty Yankees looked far and wide before settling on Elston Howard. "The Yankees will bring up a Negro as soon as one that fits the high Yankee Standards is found", sniffed GM George Weiss. It was not until 1955 that Howard was finally found fit for pinstripes. This event was greeted by a comment from Casey Stengel too vulgar to post here, but it should be noted that Howard always said he was made to feel welcome by his Yankee teammates.

Two pioneers: Larry Doby and Jackie Robinson

Nor was each league equal in the pace of integration. Until at least the mid-1960s, the National League far outpaced the American in signings of African-American players. Cleveland (with Bill Veeck in charge) took the lead in the junior circuit by signing Newark Eagles star Larry Doby (who had to go through the same tribulations in 1947 as Robinson, with far less fanfare and without the benefit of seasoning in the minor leagues that Robinson had). The Indians also have the honor of fielding the first black manager - Frank Robinson - in 1975.

So, as we rightly celebrate Robinson and Rickey, it is appropriate to also be cognizant of the struggles before that triumphal year of 1947, and the ones that continued for too long a time after.

Bobby Thomson, Jackie Robinson, and Destiny

Bobby Thomson, "The Staten Island Scot", passed away last week at the age of 86. Thomson is of course best known for the "Shot Heard 'Round The World", baseball's most famous walk-off home run, decades before that term was coined.

Thomson - wearing #7 - debuted with the Giants organization on April 18, 1946 in Jersey City. If we don't know much about Thomson's performance or feelings that day, it is understandable, as he was overshadowed by another young player making his debut for the visiting Montreal Royals. After all no one knew that in five years the young Thomson would be responsible for perhaps baseball's most famous home run. But no one watching Jackie Roosevelt Robinson that day had any doubt that history was being made. With the eyes of the nation on him, the first African-American player in an official game in organized baseball went 4-for-5 (including a three-run homer and two bunt singles), batted in four runs, and scored four. The fact that the Royals walloped Jersey City was 14-1 was almost incidental.

Robinson being congratulated after his first home run, at Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City, April 18, 1946.

Both players were promoted to their respective big league clubs after their one season in the International League. Robinson led the league in almost everything. Although Thomson's accomplishments were more modest, he set a Little Giants home run record with 26, and the Scotsman's power was enough reason to make the move across the river to the Polo Grounds by the end of the year.

Fast forward to 1951. The trajectories of these two players lead inexorably to the October day that ended the National League season. Having now spent five full seasons with these rival teams, these two players were hardened veterans, and they knew each other well. (The Dodgers and Giants played each other 22 times a year in those days). Robinson, having been freed of the shackles imposed by Branch Rickey his first two seasons was now a defiant, confident, and controversial player, at the height of his skills. Thomson, never a great fielder, had to abdicate his center field position and move to third base to accommodate the most sensational black player since Robinson, the young Willie Mays. But both were having great seasons (Robinson and Thomson finished sixth and eighth, respectively in MVP voting that year).

The Dodgers got off to a roaring start, and by August 11th had amassed a 13 1/2 game lead. Brooklyn manager Charlie Dressen had famously (if ungrammatically) declared "The Giants Is Dead". But Leo Durocher's Giant club fought back ferociously, winning 37 of their last 44 games, including their final seven. Only a Brooklyn victory against the Phillies on the last day of the season (on Jackie Robinson's dramatic 14th-inning home run, no less), salvaged a tie for first with New York. The stage was set for a special three-game playoff to decide the National League pennant and the right to face the remaining New York club - the Yankees - in the World Series. (The Yankees were having a historic year of their own. It was the last season of Joe DiMaggio and the first of Mickey Mantle).

Playoffs were only used to break ties in the days before the leagues had divisions, so there was far more drama to this series than there is for today's league playoffs. Dodgers manager Dressen won a coin toss and oddly chose to play only the first game at Ebbets Field (he could have elected to start the series in Manhattan and have the final two games in Brooklyn). What few remember today is that the Giants won the first game 3-1 on a Bobby Thomson two-run homer off (you guessed it) Ralph Branca. The Dodgers easily dominated the Giants at the Polo Grounds the next day (if the Giants were indeed stealing signs, as was learned years later, it didn't do them much good that day against rookie Clem Labine, who shut them out 10-0). This set up the deciding Game Three on October 6.

Seven taut innings of baseball produced a 1-1 tie, with those 1946 rookie opponents Robinson and Thomson each responsible for batting in the lone run for their respective team. But in the top of the eighth the Dodgers broke it open, scoring three against future teammate Sal Maglie. The Bums confidently took the field in the bottom of the ninth, sitting atop a 4-1 lead, and needing just three outs for the pennant. However a tiring Don Newcombe, pitching on just two days' rest, allowed a double to Whitey Lockman, scoring Alvin Dark. (It was Robinson who had persuaded Newcombe to stay in the game). Two on, one out, Dodgers up by two. Dressen had Carl Erskine and Ralph Branca warming up in the bullpen. Thomson had hit Branca hard all year and homered off him for the game winner in Game One, so Erskine was the obvious choice. But bullpen coach Clyde Sukeforth thought he saw Erskine bouncing his curve and recommended Branca instead. (Sukeforth would later pay for this decision with his job).

Thomson stepped to the plate saying to himself "If you're gonna hit one, hit one now, you S.O.B". Willie Mays was in the on-deck circle praying the game not be left up to him. As Mays admitted years later, as a 20-year old rookie he simply was not ready for the pressure of that moment - not yet anyway. Thomson took the first pitch for a strike. Branca reeled back and delievered his second pitch. We all know what happened next. Thomson drove Branca's high inside fastball over the left field wall, and into history. "The Giants Win The Pennant! The Giants Win The Pennant! The Giants Win The Pennant!". The Dodgers had lost the title on the last day of the season for the third time in six years.

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At the Polo Grounds, the clubhouses were beyond center field, more than 500 feet from home plate, and the Dodger players, who had to suffer the indignity of trudging all the way across the field to escape the joyful delirium of the Giants and their fans, began their long painful exit. All the Dodgers that is, except one. Jackie Robinson stood quietly and waited until he was sure that Bobby Thomson had touched every base.

Jackie Robinson watches the Giants celebrate Bobby Thomson's home run.

Our flannel of the month is Bobby Thomson's 1946 Jersey City Giants shirt, #7.

Jim Tugerson and the Cotton States League

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if Branch Rickey's "Great Experiment" had gone awry - if Jackie Robinson had been unable to withstand the pressure of being the major leagues' first African-American player (let alone become perhaps its best player in his rookie season); if the abortive strike by the St. Louis Cardinals had caught on with the rest of the National League, or if the other owners had moved to block Rickey. In the case of Rickey and Robinson, it certainly helped to have a visionary owner and an exciting, dynamic player seemingly from central casting to carry out this athletic and social revolution.

When we look back at the events of 1947 and marvel at Robinson's triumph, we sometimes have the mistaken impression that the floodgates opened in 1947, discrimination was banished, and we all lived happily ever after. But a full six years after Robinson's groundbreaking first season, only half of major league clubs had in fact integrated. In fact, baseball integration came in fits and starts, and in some places it seemed it might not come at all.


After a post-war boom in the fortunes of minor league baseball, by the early fifties televised major league games had begun to take a huge toll on the minors' coffers. The Cotton States League, with teams in Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana was no exception. The owners of the Hot Springs Bathers decided to try to reverse their fortunes by signing two African-American pitching prodigies, the Florida-born brothers Jim and Leander Tugerson. Both were members of the Negro American League's Indianapolis Clowns (Jim having roomed with rookie Henry Aaron in 1952).

The move sent shock waves throughout the league, and also exposed deep regional divisions (the Arkansas and Louisiana clubs were generally tolerant, while the Mississippi teams were adamantly opposed). The Bathers were accused of "treason" by League president Al Haraway, and Mississippi's attorney general J.P. Coleman claimed that his state's constitution prohibited integrated games. The Bathers' offer to use the Turgesons only in home games was not accepted, and on April 6 the league voted to expel Hot Springs. To his credit, National Association president Trautman ruled against the league, but bowing to pressure, the Bathers reassigned both brothers to the Knoxville Smokies of the Mountain States League, with whom they had a working agreement.

Desperately needing pitching help, and doing poorly in attendance, Hot Springs recalled Jim Tugerson from Knoxville on May 20th. Haraway issued instructions to the umpires to forfeit the game if Tugerson's name appeared in the line-up. To the displeasure of a capacity crowd, the game was indeed forfeited. Although the forfeiture was later voided by Trautman, it came too late for Tugerson, who was sent back to Knoxville where he received a much warmer welcome, winning 33 games (including four playoff victories) a league record. The Smokies even had a "Jim Tugerson Night" where black fans were admitted free.

Integration was postponed in the CSL for the time being, but Jim Tugerson was not finished. He sued the Cotton States League for having his civil rights violated and denying him the opportunity to earn a living playing baseball. Circuit court judge John Miller dismissed his claim on the basis that it was a private, not federal matter, but Tugerson's contract was sold to Dallas, thereby giving him an opportunity to play professional ball at a higher level. He eventually retired in 1957, having also pitched at Amarillo and in Panama, but made a dazzling comeback back with Dallas in 1958, using a new sidearm delivery. Sadly, AAA Dallas was as close as he got to the majors, and Jim Tugerson finally retired for good in 1959. His brother Leander had worn out his arm back in Knoxville and never recovered his form. The Cotton States League finally integrated in 1954, when the same Hot Springs Bathers signed local outfielder Uvoyd Reynolds and first baseman Howard Scott. The league folded for good in 1955.

We are offering both the Jim Tugerson Hot Springs Bathers flannel and Knoxville Smokies flannel for $99 each for a limited time.

Research used in this post came from the SABR bio project and the Encyclopedia of Arkansas History & Culture.