Jackie Robinson: A Biography.

Arnold Rampersad. New York: Knopf, 1997. 512 pp. $27.50.

Reviewed by

Hoyt Purvis University of Arkansas 

Baseball was supposed to be America's game. However, until fifty years ago, major league baseball, the pinnacle of the national sport, was not open to all Americans. That began to change in 1947 when a talented and courageous Jackie Robinson took the field for the Brooklyn Dodgers, becoming the first black player in the major leagues. As Arnold Rampersad writes in his sweeping account of Robinson's life, after Robinson's "spectacular triumph" in the 1947 baseball season, "neither blacks nor whites would be quite the same thereafter in America": Robinson "had revolutionized the image of black Americans in the eyes of many whites."

The image of Robinson, the daring base runner, sliding into base, captured in countless photographs, is one of the icons of Americana. While this image provides a sense of his speed, power, passion, and determination, it is limited in dimension. Rampersad thoroughly covers the other dimensions of Jackie Robinson. The portrait that emerges from Rampersad's insightful construction is of a proud individual with a relentless will, who was not content to accept Jim Crow status quo. On the one hand, he seemed a perfect fit for his trailblazing role; on the other, he seemed a questionable choice because he was fiercely combative and assertive. Rampersad reminds us that Robinson, like many extraordinary figures, was a man of contradictions. The contrasts between his fiery style and the stoic endurance he displayed during those first years as a Dodger are only part of the complexities and paradoxes the author portrays.

Robinson was a very good baseball player, fully deserving of his place in the game's pantheon at Cooperstown, New York. But Robinson's achievements transcended baseball, and earned him a place as a national hero and history-maker. Rampersad traces Robinson's rise to prominence, his days with the Dodgers, and his post-baseball period, including his final years of illness, tragedy, and death at age 53 in 1972. Interviews with family, friends, and teammates and access to family papers gave Rampersad, a professor of literature at Stanford, a rich trove of source material which he has used well.

Robinson grew up in Pasadena, California, attending integrated schools. His mother moved there from segregated Georgia with her five children after his father abandoned the family. Jackie's youthful achievements in football, basketball, and track helped him get into UCLA. There it was football, rather than baseball, that first earned him national notice. He played for the College All-Stars against the professional champion Chicago Bears in 1941. Athletic success was nothing new to the Robinson family. Older brother Mack finished second to Jesse Owens in the 200 meters at the 1936 Olympics, but Mack returned to Pasadena to find no work other than as a street sweeper. Jackie was determined to make his mark, and the strong faith derived from his mother and the encouragement of his dynamic wife Rachel were important factors in his drive for success.

Robinson competed with white athletes long before his Dodgers days. However, professional sports leagues were mostly segregated (there were special events such as post-season baseball barnstorming tours, in which black and white all-stars played each other).

After serving as an officer in a black Army unit in World War II (and being exonerated in a court-martial resulting from an incident on a segregated bus), Robinson joined the Kansas City Monarchs in baseball's Negro League. He did not fit in particularly well. "Jack no doubt seemed priggish to some of his teammates. But his sense of self was tightly wound around core values of dignity and self-discipline," writes Rampersad. Furthermore, Robinson was a "college boy" at a time when even the white major leagues had few players who had attended college.

It was against this background that Branch Rickey, the Dodgers general manager, acting out of a combination of idealism and pragmatism, recruited Robinson to break baseball's racial barrier. A New York columnist called Robinson "a 1000-to-1 shot to make the grade," but Robinson had the right mix of ability and mental toughness to defy those odds. Rampersad brings to life the dramatic early days when tensions ran high everywhere Robinson played. The Dodgers of the Robinson years were one of the most successful and exciting teams in National League history and fought some classic World Series battles against the Yankees. Within a few years most teams fielded black players, and Robinson had several black teammates in Brooklyn, including star catcher Roy Campanella. Ironically, the two seemed to resent each other and never got along.

Despite a respectable tenth season and a creditable World Series in 1956, Robinson had tired of baseball and was increasingly at odds with Dodgers management. When traded to the rival Giants, he announced his retirement. While some of his on-field performance could be quantified, it was difficult to calculate his broader impact on the game and society. Richie Ashburn, a Phillies star of the era, said to Robinson that "both on and off the field ... your tangible and intangible qualities made you the greatest player" he had played against.

After leaving baseball, Robinson had little to do with the sport, and the Dodgers soon moved to Los Angeles. "Baseball was just a part of my life. ... I felt I had my time in athletics and that was it," he said. Robinson turned increasingly to business, where he met both success and failure; to politics, where his record was also mixed; and to civic affairs and racial justice. He was a frequent spokesman on civil rights and had a radio show and newspaper column. In 1960 he campaigned for Richard Nixon, who flattered Robinson by recalling his football exploits. He also worked for New York's Republican governor Nelson Rockefeller. Robinson identified with the Republican Party at a time when it was becoming more conservative, and he disliked John Kennedy and distrusted Lyndon Johnson.

One shortcoming of Rampersad's fine work (other than omission of a copy of Robinson's statistical record, which would have made following the baseball years much easier) is a failure to provide more context about broader political and civil rights developments during the Robinson years. And in referring to Robinson's teammate Al Campanis, it seems a little myopic not to refer to his controversial comments in 1987, on the fortieth anniversary of Robinson's major league debut. Campanis, then a Dodgers vice president, discussing the dearth of blacks in baseball's top management, suggested that blacks might not have "some of the necessities" to be managers or the "desire" to be in the front office. He was fired the next day.

Robinson's final years brought some major disappointments. His oldest son, who had been a drug addict, was killed in an auto accident. Despite failing health, however, Jackie remained active in support of charities and civil rights. At the 1972 World Series, only a short time before his death, baseball honored Robinson on the twenty-fifth anniversary of his major league entry. He took the occasion to argue for black managers in baseball. The fiftieth anniversary of Robinson's breakthrough was commemorated through numerous special events in 1997. Henceforth, no major league team will ever re-issue number 42, Robinson's number.

Almost every big-league ballpark has a permanent display honoring Jackie Robinson, and Rampersad provides the classic biography that a figure of Robinson's significance deserves.