In the spring of 1947, Branch Rickey had one immutable rule for Jackie Robinson: No matter what happened to him, no matter what was said, he must not fight back. Baseball was not ready for that. Baseball was barely ready for him at all.
On Monday, the entire league paid tribute to Robinson, as every player on every team donned jerseys with no name or individual number, only Jackie’s iconic 42.
Two days later, the MLB of 2019 gave truth to Rickey’s words in ’47.
Chicago White Sox shortstop Tim Anderson was, on Friday, suspended one game for his involvement in a Wednesday dust-up. Anderson had hit a home run an inning prior, and tossed a celebratory bat flip without receiving prior clearance from the opposing Kansas City Royals. Royals pitcher Brad Keller repaid him with a 92-mile-per-hour fastball to the hindparts. Anderson reacted. Anderson was ejected.
ESPN’s Jeff Passan reports that Anderson’s reaction included a “racially charged word,” which is what led to his suspension. Specifically, Anderson is accused of calling Keller, who is white, a “weak-ass f—ing (n-word).” Anderson is black. Anderson is suspended.
Anderson is off to a red-hot start at the plate, batting .422 with four home runs. He’s also one of baseball’s few black stars. A native of Tuscaloosa, Alabama, Anderson is the only African American player on the White Sox active 25-man roster. His standing as a professional ballplayer, who is also an American-born descendant of enslaved Africans, is made more glaring when considering Chicago’s population is 33 percent black. Anderson’s team hardly resembles the city it plays in.
You can bet money that MLB is thrilled at the success of a young, black player. But, here’s where it has a problem: Anderson deigned to display his passion for the game, dramatically hurling his bat to his side after he hammered Keller’s fastball into the stands of Guaranteed Rate Field. Put another way: He reacted.
During Anderson’s next trip to the plate, Keller pegged him with the aforementioned fastball. Maybe Keller threw at him because he wanted to hurt Anderson’s flesh more than Anderson’s dinger hurt Keller’s feelings. Who’s to say. The batter and pitcher mouthed at each other. Benches cleared, then mellowed. Eventually, umpire Joe West ejected Keller, the assailant, and Anderson, the victim. Keller for the obvious, and Anderson for — you know what, let’s talk about that.
To the gullible, there stood fleeting hope the league would do right by Anderson. The official MLB Twitter account and the Chicago White Sox team handle both praised the 25-year-old for the bat flip — good form, great execution. MLB even included the tagline from its ad campaign: #LetTheKidsPlay. The ad, which imagines MLB’s best under-30 talent trash talking each other about the home runs they plan to hit in a preseason press conference, even includes Cleveland’s All-Star Francisco Lindor pretending to hit a colossal home run with his unplugged microphone, then dropping it on the table while his imagined shot cleared the outfield.
Again, if you didn’t know better, you might think the whole establishment turned a corner, not just an ad agency. That’s the power of good marketing.
You’re here because you know better. You know the league suspended Anderson for using a “racially-charged” word. A word that did not harm Keller’s person. A word we can almost certainly deduce was never shouted at his grandparents during a Chicago race riot, or maybe his parents in Tuscaloosa. It probably wasn’t even shouted at Keller’s niece by bullies in her fourth-grade class in Demopolis, leading the girl to hang herself. If only that horror was a thing of the past. The n-word will never threaten him, so it’s not his job to worry about how black people use it. (Former Yankees manager Joe Torre and his oversight of MLB’s on-field discipline can also sit this one out.) Keller’s job here is simple: Pitch better against Anderson and don’t repeat the word.
If the NBA banned its black athletes from using n-word in any context, the league would cease operations inside of an hour and we’d be left watching Andrew Bogut’s Warriors battle Donte DiVicenzo’s Bucks in the NBA Finals. And if DiVicenzo’s old tweets are any indication, the rookie guard would probably have to be more careful with his own language.
You might say that by penalizing Anderson — who has honored Jackie on his big league anniversary by dressing in period-era attire — MLB fails to understand the people who carry Robinson’s spirit with the most pride.
You’d be wrong. Organized baseball paid the ultimate tribute to Robinson by suspending Anderson. Just like Branch told Jackie, MLB taught Tim that when he’s mistreated, even physically attacked by his white colleagues, he can never fight back. Baseball isn’t ready for that.
