While Sylvia went to the garden display at Fair Park...I hit the baseball hall of fame exhibit. Oh my gosh how cool is this! A terrific collection of memoribilia. Ty Cobbs sharpened spikes. No wonder everyone hated him. He could cut you bad.
Andy Warhol. If you're a fan -you love it!
Wow! Roberto Clemente cap. Here was an early hero of mine. What an arm! He died in a plane crash bringing hurricane relief supplies in a chartered plane. Three thousand hits is considered the minimum to make the hall of fame for a hitter. He got exactly that before death. I think it was God's way of saying...you're coming home, but I've got a little gift for you before you go.
A uniform from the Professional Women's Baseball League. Remember the movie A League of Their Own? Seeing a real uniform was special. And the "girls" wore skirts. Slide into second with a skirt? You can't tell me they didn't have guts.
And now, the start of the baseball season...it's April again. It is also the 61st anniversary of Jackie Robinson being brought to the majors from the "Negro Leagues," breaking the "color" barrier. He had to pledge to Branch Rickey not to say a word for 3 years even with all the crap he was going to face. Nothing else carries both the sad and the fantastic at the same time. Talk about pressure. If he didn't "make this work" then they may have not tried to integrate baseball for another 20 years. Integrating baseball was a kind of first step for civil rights. Truman did force the integration of the armed forces months before, but that mostly took place in europe where we had been fighting the world war. Mr. Robinson carried a lot on his shoulders. He had to prove he was so good that it didn't make sense not to have an African-American on the team. He was taunted from the stands, the other team, umpires, and even his own teammates at first. They threw stuff at him, refused him hotel rooms, and to eat where the other players ate. That uniform is as special as the Babe's, or Josh Gibson, or Ty Cobb. We all stand on the shoulders of giants.
Sylvia and I met up later. The flowers were beautiful she said. (Yeah, but I'm the one who got choked up.)
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