The Weapon

September 3, 1988. 33,000 fans, a sellout at venerable St. James’ Park. Home of Newcastle United, an English Premier League soccer team.

Along with a friend, I join thousands of rabid local supporters in the Gallowgate end of the stadium. It is standing room only. Crammed, almost crushed together, quite literally pinned shoulder to shoulder, we fight to hold our positions.

The energy is electric. The tension palpable. A sparkling new West Stand set to open. The excitement capped by the much-anticipated return to the city of Paul Gascoigne, aka “Gazza,” a brilliant yet troubled superstar midfielder. Once a Magpie, now a member of arch enemy Tottenham. The Spurs.

For me at least, and no doubt many others, if only the match can be remembered for its pomp, pageantry, and skill. The home team, clad in its traditional black and white striped jerseys, registers an early first half brace. The visitors, sporting a pale-yellow away strip, counter after the break with two goals of their own. Honours even at 2-2, as the new season gets underway.

Alas, the behaviour from the crowd, shouting, chanting, gesticulating, leaves much to be desired. Missiles, in the form of Mars bars, one of Gascoigne’s sponsors, rain down from the terrace as he looks to take a corner kick. Coins and various debris soon descend on others as well, with the police forced to move in.

As bad, even worse, is the torrent of abuse reserved for the black players on the pitch. Any foray into the penalty area met by disgusting taunts and actions. Bananas tossed in their direction. Crude ape noises. Seemingly obligatory references to slavery, fried chicken, watermelons, and the like, part of some sick, tired, warped mentality.

I find the atmosphere distinctly uncomfortable. I should head for the exits. Yet I do not. Safety in numbers I suppose. Complicit, without having to face any consequences. The crude commentary deemed by those around me as only “racial banter.”

Unfortunately, in all manner of sports, including soccer, rugby, basketball, and cricket, blatant racism continues to raise its ugly head. On too many occasions over the next four decades, no amount of education, fines, suspensions, bans, even jail time, succeeds in totally eradicating the disease.

Add baseball to this list.

My own underwhelming baseball career ends in the summer of 1966, at the age of 8. Undone by a weak arm, all too rare base hits, and an apparent unwillingness to spend hour upon hour in splendid isolation manning right field. I do continue to follow, from a distance, pennant races and the exploits of various star performers. Yet, I never really get to grips with the nuances and intricacies of the sport.

Fast forward to 2025. Happily, along with hundreds of thousands, millions even, of Canadians, I revel in the somewhat unexpected recent success of the Toronto Blue Jays. Absolutely jump on an ever-growing bandwagon of support, especially during heady summer months when the team makes light of its slow start to roar back into playoff contention.

Indeed, we watch elite defence and decent pitching combine with timely hitting and a compelling “next man up” philosophy. Stars and role players alike join forces to spark this revival. Indeed, the country’s sole major league franchise not only exorcizes gut wrenching post season defeats in 2020, 2022 and 2023, but captures the American League crown. Then dispatches the powerful New York Yankees in a best of five division series.

Intrigued, watching each afternoon on television, I come to better understand game strategies, tactics, and positioning. Try to grasp the relevance of otherwise bewildering terms. Of a warning track, a Texas Leaguer, a suicide squeeze, a golden sombrero, a Mendoza line, a punch out, a can of corn, a frozen rope, a hot corner.

Most significantly, as I lean further into all things baseball in Canada, I discover a memoir titled I Never Had It Made.

And so, I contemplate the remarkable life and times of Jackie Robinson.

Born in 1919, raised in California, the son of a black sharecropper, he develops into a superb all-round athlete. Stars at UCLA, initially better known for his football prowess. Then enters the US Army in 1942. Though facing a court martial two years later for refusing an order to sit in the back of a segregated Army bus, the charges are soon dismissed. The incident an early example of his strong commitment to fair process and civil rights.

World War II ends. Robinson signs on to play professionally in the Negro League. His stellar performances catch the eye of Branch Rickey, then the general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

Rickey’s desire to integrate baseball requires just the right candidate to show the way. In Robinson, he finds his man.

Skilful, intelligent, highly competitive, courageous, resilient, honest to the core, in October 1945 Robinson joins the Dodgers‘ AAA affiliate in Montreal.

The move north of the border proves successful. The slick infielder warms to the city and its people. They in turn gravitate to him, provide countless positive memories. Pave the way for him to change the sport of baseball forever.

Indeed, on April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson becomes the first black man to play in the Major Leagues. By so doing, in taking the field for the Dodgers, he breaks a decades-old colour barrier, eventually opening the door for thousands of others.

He enjoys a simply superb nine-year career. Accolades come thick and fast. Rookie of the Year in 1947, League MVP in 1949. A six time All-Star, with a lifetime batting average of .311, he is also an outstanding fielder and deadly base stealer. In addition, he helps the Dodgers to six National League titles and one World Series victory.

Still, for all his ability, one of Robinson’s greatest strength is restraint. Life as a baseball player is not easy. Fans heckle. Hurl objects at him. He deals with death threats. Navigates deep rooted injustice and gross inequality, such as laws that do not allow him to eat in restaurants or stay in hotels with this teammates. Never mind that a good number of these same teammates bitterly resent having to even play with a black. While opponents deliberately throw pitches at him or slide dangerously into bases, cleats up, looking to injure.

Retiring in 1957, Robinson devotes the remainder of his life to civil rights activism. On a wide scale, he lobbies extensively for inclusivity. In a pure baseball sense, champions greater opportunities for people of colour to both play and manage at the major league level. His efforts justly rewarded by induction to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962, the first African American to be so honoured.

Sadly, Robinson suffers a heart attack and passes away at the age of 53. A significant figure in sporting history, in 1984 he wins a posthumous Presidential Freedom Medal, the highest possible award for an American civilian.

Then, in 1997, on the 50^th anniversary of his breaking the colour barrier, in an unprecedented move, Major League Baseball retires his jersey number. A decade later, the league mandates April 15 each season as Jackie Robinson Day, with all players, coaches, and umpires to wear 42 that day in his memory.

I marvel at Robinson’s sense of responsibility, his understanding of the bigger picture, his ability to quell serious bitterness and frustration at the treatment he must endure. I admire his basic decency, his decision to value substance over insults about the colour of his skin.

He certainly never had it made. Difficult, in his own words, to be a black man in a white world. Dealing daily with bigotry and prejudice, which presently targets equally Latinos and Asians, on a grand scale.

I wonder how he would view events as they stand currently in the USA. Not well I imagine.

An autocratic President, propped up by an entourage of bumbling lackeys and sycophants, targets civil society, undermines basic freedoms, arms the justice system. Promotes hate and lawlessness on an unprecedented scale. Intimidates, ridicules, and divides. Serves up poisonous cocktails of cruelty, greed, intimidation, retribution, and deceit.

May more Jackie Robinsons, people of real character, soon appear on the horizon. People tough and principled, calm and brave, uncowed and morally sound. To help combat a nation in decline, a country teetering on the edge of an abyss.

May these people echo the words of journalist Rene Syler. As is and was the case with Robinson, realize that dignity is its own weapon.

Editor’s note:

October 18 - Over 7 million people, at some 2500 locations across the USA, attend "No Kings" protests in opposition to the rogue policies of president Donald Trump and the rising tide of fascism.

October 20 - Toronto Blue Jays advance to the World Series as American League champions, after a thrilling game seven victory vs Seattle.