ANNUAL NAAMANS CELEBRATES THE NEGRO LEAGUES
MAY 13 – MAY 21, 2016

The second annual “Naamans Celebrates the Negro Leagues” will be held from May 13 through May 21. Materials and press coverage from the inaugural 2015 event can be viewed on the Naamans website.

Naamans does not ultimately coach baseball, but character. The majority of our players will not continue in competitive baseball beyond 12 years of age, but all our players will become teenagers, men, and women. The character skills our players acquire from their Naamans experiences become the League’s most lasting and pervasive contributions to their development. Like all youth sports, baseball imparts the importance of effort, teamwork, perseverance, and preparation. Arguably more than any other sport, baseball also revels in its history, and when our players step on the field, they connect to this continuum. That historic connection offers unique opportunities for Naamans to coach character, and the Negro Leagues presents the most impactful of those opportunities. 

Celebrating, rather than lamenting, the Negro Leagues perpetuates the effusive positivism of the remarkable of Buck O’Neil, the long-time Negro League player and manager who would become the first black coach in Major League Baseball. We celebrate the Negro Leagues’ joyous, aggressive, and improvisational style of play, and the skill, personalities, and legends of those that played it. In The Natural, the protagonist, Roy Hobbs, expresses what in part motivates all great athletes: the dream of walking down the street and having people say “there goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was in this game.” If Naamans families react to the names Oscar Charleston, Josh Gibson, Cool Papa Bell, and Wilmington’s own Judy Johnson the way they react to Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Willie Mays, and Stan Musial, Naamans Celebrates the Negro Leagues will help create the legacy these players were denied by their contemporaries.

Yet, when you look back, what people didn’t realize, and still don’t today, was that we [baseball] got the ball rolling on integration in the whole society. Remember, this was before Brown versus Board of Education of Topeka. When Branch Rickey signed Jackie [Robinson], Martin Luther King was a student at Morris College.  We showed the way it had to be done, by just keeping on and being the best we could.
--Buck O’Neil

Most importantly, a celebration of the Negro Leagues focuses on its absence. The Negro Leagues’ greatest success was its demise due to integration. In celebrating the Negro Leagues, we introduce Naamans players to the stoic perseverance with which Jackie Robinson suffered injustice in order to end it, and Pee Wee Reese, who, with everything to lose but his sense of justice and humanity, crossed the infield and put his arm around a future lifelong friend.  We also celebrate baseball fans collectively, who did not turn away from the game as it integrated, as Major League owners had feared, but instead embraced MLB all the more for the talent and joy the former Negro League players brought to the game.

The Celebration will feature:

• Our seven Majors Division (ages 10 through 12) teams will wear replica Negro League jerseys for all games played during the week. The jerseys will celebrate seven different Negro League teams, and in the tradition of Major League Baseball (and as inspired by a Pee Wee Reese comment), all jerseys will bear the number “42”.
• Throughout the Celebration, 10 poster-size, museum-style exhibits about the Negro Leagues and its players will hang at the Naamans complex concession stand. These posters are continuously available on our website.
• The Judy Johnson Foundation, commemorating Wilmington’s Hall of Famer Negro League player, will exhibit Negro Leagues memorabilia and sell memorabilia and books to support its continuing educational efforts.
• Naamans will be honored with an appearance by Maime “Peanut” Johnson, a woman that pitched in the Negro Leagues from 1953 to 1955. On May 14, she will appear at complex, speak on her experiences, and sign A Strong Right Arm, a children’s book written about her life.
• A showing of the Jackie Robinson movie 42 at the Siegel JCC the night of Saturday, May 14th.

Buck O’Neil advised: “don’t feel sorry for the black baseball player. Feel sorry for the ones who didn’t get to see them play.” Naamans coaches and players are too young to have seen these players, but, the generous support of our sponsors provides the opportunity for our community to celebrate the players’ legends, and in so doing assimilate some character lessons as well.

To read the press release for this event, click here.

Please Join Us for the Naamans Negro Leagues Celebration Week Event

Movie:  "42 - The True Story of an American Legend"

Saturday, May 14  6:00PM      Siegel JCC Auditorium

Complementary Admission - Thanks to Greg Lavelle

SPECIAL GUESTS

* Maime "Peanut" Johnson *

Pitcher - Indianapolis Clowns - 1953-1955

* Sonny Hill *

Philadelphia Sports Hall of Fame Member, WIP Sports Radio

* Judy Johnson Foundation *

Concessions Available

Concession Proceeds Benefit the Judy Johnson Foundation & the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum 

To help our League celebrate the Negro Leagues this season, we are very fortunate to have three very special guests visit and join the celebration with us.

First - Maime "Peanut" Johnson.  Maime was the first female pitcher, and one of only three women, to play in the Negro Leagues.  She played for the Indianapolis Clowns from 1953-1955.

Second - Sonny Hill.  Sonny is a member of the Philadelphia Sports Hall of Fame.  He is currently a sports radio personality on WIP Sports Radio.

Third - the Judy Johnson Foundation.  Joe Mitchell, President and Founder of the Judy Johnson Foundation, will display his collection of Negro Leagues memorabilia - including a 1920 Hilldale jersey worn by Judy Johnson (known as the best 3rd baseman to ever play in the Negro Leagues, but even better known as a gentleman and "the most honest man in baseball"). 

THANK YOU for sharing your time with us!!!!!

Mamie "Peanut" Johnson grew up with a passion and talent for playing baseball. But, as a black female, opportunities to play were limited. After being refused a try-out for the All-American Girls League, she turned that rejection into pure determination and became one of only three women to play baseball in the Negro Leagues, and the only female to pitch. Tiny, but tough, Mamie once struck out an opponent who said she looked like a "peanut" on the mound. After retiring from her athletic career, Mrs. Johnson became a nurse and coached youth baseball.

Born Mamie Belton on September 27, 1935 in Ridgeway, South Carolina, she is the daughter of Della Belton Havelow and Gentry Harrison. Although her parents separated when she was very young, Belton kept in touch with her father and his children from another marriage.

Belton's early years were spent in Ridgeway, SC where she attended Thorntree School, a two-room schoolhouse. Belton lived with her maternal grandmother, Cendonia Belton, while her mother worked in Washington, DC. From about six years old, Belton loved to play baseball with her Uncle Leo "Bones" Belton. They were so close in age, she regarded him more as a brother than an uncle. They improvised bats out of tree limbs, bases out of pie plates and balls from rocks wrapped in tape. To strengthen her right arm, Belton threw rocks at crows sitting on the fence of her grandmother's farm. She developed a mean fastball.

Belton credits her grandmother with supporting her interest in playing ball and in giving her the confidence to always follow her heart. Around 1945, Cendonia Belton died from a stroke. Belton then moved to New Jersey where she lived with an aunt and uncle.

While in New Jersey, Belton began playing ball. She tried girls' softball at first, but quit in frustration. Belton was used to playing hardball with the boys and she knew she was good. She then tried out for an all-white boys' team, organized by the Long Branch Police Athletic Club (PAL). She became the only girl and only black on the team. Her indisputable talent overcame doubts as she helped carry Long Branch to two division championships. That experience helped Belton not only develop her strong right pitching arm, but also her capacity to outthink batters. She realized early on, it was especially easy to outsmart opponents who underestimated her.

In 1947, Belton moved to Washington, DC to live with her mother who had become a dietician at Freedman's Hospital (later Howard University Hospital.) About this time, Belton began playing semi-pro ball for two local black, male teams in a recreational 'sandlot' baseball league. Those teams were the Alexandria All-Stars and St. Cyprian's, which played on Banneker Field in Washington, DC near her mother's house.

After graduating from high school, Belton attempted to try out for the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. She was not even allowed on the field. Belton left angered and more determined than ever to play ball. She continued to play Sunday games at St. Cyprian's.

Belton married Charles Johnson and had a son, Charlie. In 1953, she was working at an ice cream shop and playing baseball on the weekends. By this time, the Negro Leagues were in decline. The integration of major league baseball was drawing top talent and fans away from the black ball clubs, so they were looking for new talent and fresh ideas. A scout for the Indianapolis Clowns (of the National Negro Professional Baseball Leagues) , Bish Tyson, saw Johnson play and introduced her to club manager Buster Haywood. Haywood, in turn, introduced Johnson to their business manager, McKinley 'Bunny' Downs who arranged a tryout in DC. (The team had recently hired two other women players; Toni Stone and Connie Morgan.)

Johnson made the team and soon boarded a bus for spring training camp in Portsmouth, Virginia. Johnson has said stepping out on the pitcher's mound for her first game with the Clowns was a highlight of her life. She won that game, and the respect of her male teammates.

First season road games took the Clowns to Nashville, Memphis, Little Rock, Atlanta, Birmingham, Louisville, Kansas City, Chicago, Cincinnati, Baltimore, Philadelphia and Brooklyn. Often, Johnson's teammates slept on the bus while she and the other female athletes stayed with local families because hotels would not welcome them. Though Johnson 's primary motivation was simply to play ball, she also felt she was making a statement when her team played pickup games with white teams on the road. It was a way, she has said, to show their talent off to mixed raced crowds, including those who had never seen black baseball players before.

On the field, Johnson's greatest joy was striking out hitters. That was the case with Kansas City Monarchs third baseman Hank Bayliss, who taunted her by remarking that she looked like a peanut on the mound.

That first season, Johnson achieved her lifelong ambition, and though she was still hoping for a chance at the major leagues, she was also starting to think about a future beyond baseball. She began attending school outside of baseball season.

In April of 1954, and again in 1955, Johnson returned to play 150 games a season for the Clowns. One encounter with Satchell Paige, who had returned to his old team--the Kansas City Monarchs--after retiring from the majors, included advice that helped Johnson perfect her curve ball. Johnson learned well; in three seasons she won 33 games and lost only eight, with a batting average of 270. That made her one of the top pitchers in league history.

But playing baseball in the Negro Leagues did not always pay well. Johnson earned between $400 and $700 a month. Flagging ticket sales, dimming hopes of breaking into the majors, and the desire to raise her son, led Johnson to retire from baseball at the end of the 1955 season. She then graduated from college and became a licensed practical nurse.

During her 30-year nursing career, Johnson often coached youth league baseball teams. After she retired, she worked in a Negro League Baseball memorabilia shop that her son owned in Capitol Heights, MD.

Among the honors she has received, President and Mrs. Clinton honored Johnson at the White House as a female baseball legend. She also received the Mary McLeod Bethune Continuing the Legacy Award. In 2003, a book about Johnson 's life story, "A Strong Right Arm," was released. In 2005, a one woman theatrical show about her life, "Change Up," premiered at Brown University. Also in 2005, Johnson joined DC mayor Anthony Williams at the first game of the Washington Nationals.

Johnson remains close to her son Charles, to her mother Della, and to her Uncle "Bones" who lives in Connecticut.

William Randolph "Sonny" Hill is a former basketball player and announcer. He is a member of the Philadelphia Sports Hall of Fame, and current sports radio personality in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He also serves as an executive advisor for the Philadelphia 76ers. He is known as Mr. Basketball and "The Mayor of Basketball" in Philadelphia for founding the eponymous Sonny Hill League and for his many contributions to the game.

Hill was born and raised in Philadelphia. After graduating from Northeast High School in 1959, he attended college for two years and then joined the Eastern Basketball League.  Sonny played college basketball and semi-professionally in the Eastern Basketball League from 1958 to 1967.  Hill began his broadcast career in 1969 as a color commentator with Andy Musser for the Philadelphia 76ers. He was also a commentator with the NBA on CBS from 1972 until 1977.  He has hosted a weekly show on Philadelphia radio station WIP since 1987.

In 1960, Sonny co-founded the Charles Baker Memorial Summer League which would become the top off season showcase of pro basketball talent.  In 1968, the Sonny Hill Community Involvement League was founded in 1968 as a safe haven from gang warfare and other violence.  The league, which began as an extension of the Charles Baker Memorial League, is an amateur summer basketball organization in the Delaware Valley and today consists of more than 60 teams serving more than 800 student athletes.  It presents an alternative to the challenges of the street and provides participants with discipline, guidance, and direction as well as offers students tutoring and career counseling programs in addition to basketball.  It's been said that the Sonny Hill League has done more to battle the perils of gangs and drugs and promote life skills than any other program in the city of Philadelphia.

Sonny's influence goes beyond the basketball court - known for his roles as a 76ers executive, radio host, broadcaster, counselor and mentor to thousands of young men and widely acknowledged for his ability to reach kids through the game of basketball to become better people.

Friday, May 13

• 5:30PM - Majors Game:  Crawfords (Pepperidge) vs. Grays (Homecraft)
• 8:00PM - Majors Game:  American Giants (HyPoint) vs. Eagles (Mattern)

Saturday, May 14

• 12:00PM - Majors Game:  Grays (Homecraft) vs. American Giants (HyPoint)
• 2:30PM - Majors Game:  Monarchs (Campanella) vs. Clowns (Mills) - ceremonial first pitch thrown by Maime Johnson
• SPECIAL EVENT - 6:00PM - Maime Johnson, Sonny Hill & Judy Johnson Foundation (Siegel JCC)
• SPECIAL EVENT - 7:00PM - "42" Movie Presentation (Siegel JCC)

Sunday, May 15

• 2:00PM - Majors Game:  Hilldale (Horizon) vs. Crawfords (Pepperidge)

Monday, May 16

• 6:30PM - Majors Game:  Hilldale (Horizon) vs. Grays (Homecraft)

Tuesday, May 17

• 6:30PM - Majors Game:  American Giants (HyPoint) vs. Monarchs (Campanella)

Wednesday, May 18

• 6:30PM - Majors Game:  American Giants (HyPoint) vs. Eagles (Mattern)

Thursday, May 19

• 6:30PM - Majors Game:  Crawfords (Pepperidge) vs. Hilldale (Horizon)

Friday, May 20

• 6:30PM - Majors Game:  Clowns (Mills) vs. American Giants (HyPoint)

Saturday, May 21

• 9:30AM - Majors Game:  Eagles (Mattern) vs. Crawfords (Pepperidge)
• 2:30PM - Majors Game:  Monarchs (Campanella) vs. Hilldale (Horizon)

The Majors division teams will wear jerseys honoring specific Negro Leagues teams during all games played starting Friday, May 13 and ending Saturday, May 21.  Additionally, each jersey will be numbered with 42 in honor of Jackie Robinson in the same manner that Major League Baseball does each season.

Each Negro Leagues team name is a clickable link to additional information provided by the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum.

Team Assignments (click blue team names for more information)

1.  Kansas City Monarchs:  Campanella    

2.  Homestead Grays:  Homecraft    

3.  Hilldale (Darby, PA) Giants:  Horizon    

4.  Chicago American Giants:  HyPoint    

5.  Newark Eagles:  Mattern    

6.  Indianapolis Clowns:  Mills    

7.  Pittsburgh Crawfords:  Pepperidge    

Here is a link to an excellent article about Pee Wee Reece, a Brooklyn Dodgers Hall of Fame player who was instrumental in supporting and gaining broader acceptance for his teammate Jackie Robinson.

Delaware Online Story:  "Paying Homage to Hall of Famer Judy Johnson"

Delaware Online Story:  "Delaware Backstory - Judy Johnson - April 20, 2015"

Much more fascinating information regarding the Negro Leagues history and teams can be found on the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum website.

Click Arrows To Scroll Through Images

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Use the links below to read about these Negro Leagues players.

Thirty things you might not have known about the Negro Leagues and its players -  by Bill Ladson/ MLB.com

1. Country singer Charlie Pride played in the Negro Leagues for the Birmingham Black Barons and Memphis Red Sox in the early 1950s.

2. Jerry Hairston Jr.'s grandfather, Sam, played in the Negro Leagues for the Birmingham Black Barons and Cincinnati/Indianapolis Clowns from 1944 to 1950.

3. In his first game after being discharged from the army, Leon Day pitched a no-hitter for the Philadelphia Stars in 1946.

4. Buck Leonard played 17 years from 1934 TO 1950 for the Homestead Grays, the longest tenure with one team in the Negro Leagues.

5. In 1945, Jackie Robinson played shortstop in his only season with the Kansas City Monarchs.

6. The Monarchs won the first Negro League World Series in 1924. They defeated the Hilldale Giants.

7. Willard Brown of the Monarchs once hit a home run on pitch that bounced in front of the plate.

8. In 1950, Sam Jethroe became the first Negro League player to play for a Boston team in the Major Leagues. In 1950, he won Rookie of the Year honors with the Braves.

9. In 1939, shortstop Pee Wee Butts threw three balls into the stands during his first game with the Baltimore Elite Giants.

10. At 16, Roy Campanella was the starting catcher for the Baltimore Elite Giants.

11. Ted "Double Duty" Radcliffe played for 12 Negro League teams, including the New York Black Yankees and Chicago American Giants. Radcliffe was reportedly willing to jump ship for more money.

12. Martin Dihigo has the distinction of being the only in player in baseball history to be inducted into the Cuban, Mexican and United States National Baseball Halls of Fame.

13. Luis Tiant, Sr., the father of the Boston Red Sox pitcher, played seven seasons for the New York Cubans in the 1930s and '40s.

14. Rube Foster, co-owner/manager of the Chicago American Giants and organizer of the Negro National League, was known to trade his players to help create parity in NNL.

15. Josh Gibson played his first professional baseball game for the Homestead Grays in 1929 after the team asked fans in the stands for a backup catcher to replace the injured Buck Ewing.

16. Reggie Jackson's father, Martinez, played for the Newark Eagles in the 1920s and '30s.

17. Elston Howard and Ernie Banks were roommates when they played for Monarchs.

18. Olympic track star Jesse Owens refused to compete against Cool Papa Bell in a race in 1936.

19. After the 1938 season, Abe Manley, co-owner of the Newark Eagles, traded Terris McDuffie to the New York Black Yankees because McDuffie had an affair with Manley's wife, Effa.

20. In 1966, Ted Williams became the first person to publicly suggest that Negro League players should be considered for induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

21. When he played in the Negro Leagues, Willie Mays' nickname was "Buck," not the "Say Hey Kid."

22. Rube Foster is the only manager from the Negro Leagues to be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

23. Gus Greenlee, owner of the Pittsburgh Crawfords, managed John Henry Lewis, the first black light-heavyweight champion.

24. In 1934, Satchel Paige defeated Dizzy Dean four out of the six times they met when the Kansas City Monarchs faced Dean's All-Stars.

25. The Negro National League used white umpires during its first two years of existence. Bill Donaldson became the first African American to umpire a Negro League game in 1923.

26. Josh Gibson's son, Josh Jr., played two years for the Homestead Grays and one year in the minor leagues.

27. Don Newcombe is the only pitcher from the Negro Leagues to win a Cy Young award in the Major Leagues (in 1956).

28. After 17 years in the Negro Leagues, Ray Dandridge played in the New York Giants' minor league system in 1949. He was never promoted to the Major Leagues during his fours years in the organization.

29. In 1944 and '45, the Clowns played their home games in Indianapolis and Cincinnati.

30. As a member of the Indianapolis Clowns in 1952, Hank Aaron batted cross-handed and played shortstop.

A boy and his hero - Clemente, Irvin formed a friendship that lasted for decades    by Tom Singer/MLB.com

Forever, and still, special bonds have existed between the larger-than-life figures who play baseball and the kids who look up to them. These are the ties that connect idol and idolizer.

But rarely are friendships forged from the admiration in 11-year-old eyes for a 26-year-old block of muscle and grace from a foreign land. Certainly few like the one that flowered from a young Roberto Clemente's worship of Negro League icon Monte Irvin.

It was pre-Jackie Robinson and post-World War II. Irvin, the flashy infielder/Outfielder for the Newark Eagles, spent his winters playing for San Juan in Puerto Rico, where his biggest fan was a skinny little kid who saved his pennies for an occasional bus ride to Sixto Escobar Stadium.

The lure for Roberto Clemente was Irvin, the MVP of the Puerto Rico Winter League in the two seasons immediately preceding his Major League ascension in 1947. When Clemente couldn't scrape up the 15-cent bleacher admission, Irvin was his ticket through the gates.

"There'd be youngsters hanging around, and we'd let the kids carry our bags to get in the park for free," recalls Irvin. "Roberto and Orlando Cepeda, they were always there together.

"Clemente always told me he developed a throwing arm like mine because he'd always admired the way I threw the ball. When he got into the Majors, we renewed our friendship. We used to reminisce about the good old days in Puerto Rico."

The most poignant aspect of this May-December kinship -- although Irvin had two more seasons with the Giants and the Cubs after Clemente broke in with the 1955 Pirates, he was 15 years his senior -- is the fact the two men entered the Hall of Fame together in 1973.

That also is the saddest part, because Clemente did so posthumously. The traditional five-year waiting period for induction was waived after he died in the crash of a plane carrying relief supplies to earthquake victims.

Irvin, 82, still vibrantly recalls their bond.

"We remained close friends, right up to the time of his crash," Irvin says. "I sure wish he could've been there the day I entered the Hall. Having his wife (Vera) there made up for it a little bit. That was a very moving day for me.

"She and their three sons are still close to me. I've been back in Puerto Rico to visit them a few times."

Irvin was never surprised, only flattered, that a young kid would focus on him as a role model. And he was proud when the kid grew up into a fabulous Major Leaguer, and continued to pay him homage.

"Age doesn't matter if you're a baseball player," Irvin says. "Young or old, it's the same game. After we'd play against each other, we'd say hello and go have dinner together.

"Watching him play, yeah, he did remind me of myself a little," Irvin says. "He was a good hitter, could run and field, was daring on the bases and always stepped on the field with enthusiasm. And he could throw. He didn't have just a great arm -- he had an accurate arm."

One Clemente trademark Irvin won't take credit for is the underhanded flip. After routine flies, or even after gloving hits on which the base runners clearly were not trying to advance, Clemente would zing the ball back to the infield with a submarine flick of his wrist.

He got more on those throws than contemporaries could get with their full weights behind the traditional overhand heave.

"No, I didn't do that," says Irvin, who showcased his arm by ringing up 45 assists in 585 big-league games in the outfield. "He and Willie Mays came up with that when they played together in the winter of 1953-54."

Thank you - People from Major League Baseball show their appreciation for the Negro Leagues    MLB.com

"In a way, my attitude and the way I approach the game is something I've taken from (the Negro League players). You always want to be a personality. It's more than just baseball. You always heard the stories about the Negro League players like Cool Papa Bell, who was so fast he could flip the light switch and be in the bed before the room got dark, or you heard about Satchel Paige going out on the mound talking to batters and telling them what pitch was coming. I think personality was a big part of the Negro Leagues. That's something I want to bring with me to the game. When I'm (on the field), I'm pointing up to the sky, or I'm talking on the field. I'm trying to bring more than just baseball to the field."
-- Shortstop Jimmy Rollins, Philadelphia Phillies and co-recipient of the 2001 Cool Papa Bell Award from the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum

"I think you have to say the Negro Leagues had a positive impact on baseball because without those guys there would be no "us" in the game. Just (reading) all the stories, reading all the documents and listening to the guys ..., it's great how they went about their business. They could have quit because it wasn't like they were getting paid a lot of money or playing on the big stage, but they just loved to play the game. They just wanted the opportunity to play along side the greats like Babe Ruth and some of those guys never got the opportunity. I look around now and see that I have the opportunity to play against Derek Jeter and some of the greatest players in the game, and you really have to appreciate the sacrifice many of the Negro League players made for us today."
-- Outfielder Matt Lawton, Cleveland Indians

"I learned a lot more about (the Negro Leagues) once I got to the Major Leagues. I got to meet a lot of the guys like Buck O'Neil. Those are guys that really command respect, and we feel honored as baseball players, especially as African-Americans, to shake hands and learn more about the Negro Leagues as we play each and every year. I had a chance to go to Kansas City to play the Royals and go to the (Negro Leagues Baseball) Museum there. I think there's great history there."
-- Second baseman Eric Young, Milwaukee Brewers

"Who was the best player in the Negro Leagues? Josh Gibson? I don't know, but ... baseball fans missed out on (watching) some pretty great players."
--Pitcher Dave Veres, St. Louis Cardinals

"(The Negro Leagues) stand for a lot of pride to me. (The players) met adverse times with very little bitterness and a love for the game and each other. ... I really wish someone would talk to these guys while they're still around. They're like the old blues players -- when they're gone, they're gone."
-- Manager Dusty Baker, San Francisco Giants

"I've met a lot of people that played baseball in the Negro Leagues and was very fortunate to meet Jackie Robinson. I think the Negro Leagues showed how much more organized they really were. They traveled on a bus and -- society wise -- they were not treated real good. But they loved to play and people came out to see them play. I think once Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier, Major League Baseball took notice and started scouting the Negro Leagues for talent. I think once the color barrier was broken baseball really took off."
--Manager Charlie Manuel, Cleveland Indians

"It's only been recently that I've come to appreciate the enormous skills that came out of the (Negro Leagues). I think it's great that we have an event surrounding (the league), with the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum. And we have two Philadelphia Phillies being honored (Jimmy Rollins won the Cool Papa Bell Award, Larry Bowa won the C.I. Taylor Award for NL Manager of the Year)."
-- David Montgomery, Phillies President and CEO

"It's really amazing when you think about it. Completely rejected by Major League Baseball, black players -- some of the greatest players in the history of the game -- endured incredible hardship and built an independent, thriving league. Negro League baseball became one of the two or three biggest African-American industries in the country. Their success -- drawing 50,000 fans to All-Star Games, beating white All-Star teams on a regular basis -- demanded the attention that eventually led to the integration of the game. Former Negro League players deserve the credit for beating down the door."
-- Theo Epstein, Director of Baseball Operations for the San Diego Padres

"I think the Negro Leagues proved that they could compete on the same level once they got the opportunity to play in the Major Leagues. And I think that is the same thing from the front-office standpoint. Once given the opportunity I think more people will find out what individuals are capable of doing."
-- Tye Waller, Director of Player Development for the San Diego Padres

"The Negro Leagues played a very important role in my life. My dad was actually a pitcher on a team that would practice against the official Negro League teams like the Homestead Grays. He would play every weekend and when I was young, I would run out on the field during the game and try to imitate him on the first-base line. The Negro Leagues are full of great history and whenever I go to Kansas City, I make sure to stop in the (Negro Leagues Baseball) Museum. I still talk with Buck O'Neil throughout the winter."
-- Manager Jerry Manuel, Chicago White Sox

The Negro Leaguer I know best is Buck O'Neill, and after listening to his stories about the Negro Leagues, it is disappointing that they didn't get a chance to play in the big leagues. Our society was messed up back then. I admire players like Josh Gibson, Satchel Paige and Cool Papa Bell and I'm disappointed they don't get recognized. Their careers were never truly honored as they should be.
--Manager Buck Martinez, Toronto Blue Jays

"I only began to have a true appreciation of who they were in the Negro Leagues and the stars they were when I signed with Cincinnati in 1963. That's when I began to really pay attention to players like Jackie Robinson and Monte Irvin. I got the sense of regret that the whole country didn't get to see more players like them earlier."
-- Coach Tommy Harper, Boston Red Sox

"Having the Negro Leagues Museum in Kansas City gives everybody the opportunity [to know more about the Negro Leagues]. It's out there for (everbody) to learn."
-- First baseman Kevin Young, Pittsburgh Pirates

Traveling show - Barnstorming was common place in the Negro Leagues      By Justice B. Hill/MLB.com

They would load their bats and gloves onto buses and into motorcars, and their caravan would roll like tumbleweed through the countryside of Indiana, Kansas, the Dakotas and places elsewhere.

They would chew up thousands of miles of bad road, hoping to stop in Small Town, U.S.A., where they could grab a meal, unpack their gear and play a ballgame or two.

But nothing was ever easy for these real-life "Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars and Motor Kings" as they barnstormed in the late 1800s and in the first half of the 1900s.

How could it be?

The players often had to weave their barnstorming around a more formal Negro League schedule.

They would finish a series in, say, Kansas City, head east (or maybe farther West), stop for a series in St. Louis, move on to play exhibition games in Michigan City or Fort Wayne or Toledo and end up with league games in Indianapolis, Chicago and Pittsburgh.

Unwelcomed in most hotels, these black men lived out of suitcases. They slept on buses or in stadiums or on the side of the road, which surely proved this was hardly the high life.

"Out on the field, there'd be some white folks in the stands," Satchel Paige said in his autobiography. "Some of them'd call you (the N-word), but most would cheer you."

For Paige and others, their incentive to barnstorm was for the extra money they earned for exhibition games against white and other black teams. The games against whites were cash cows, often drawing thousands of fans to these small towns to watch the great Negro League players.

"The games made towns money," said Phil Dixon, an author, a baseball researcher and an expert on the Negro Leagues. "They made players money."

On the meager salaries from the Negro Leagues, the players valued the extra pay. They had the added satisfaction of showing fans in these small towns how well blacks played the game.

And all the legends of the Negro Leagues barnstormed, often playing against Major League teams. From Pete Hill to Willie Wells to Josh Gibson to Monte Irvin, the players chased the money. They hustled baseball just as well as Minnesota Fats hustled pool.

They also won most of their games, too.

"They played mostly against whites," said Robert Ruck, an authority on the Negro Leagues and a history professor at the University of Pittsburgh. "A team like the Homestead Grays might barnstorm through the region playing one or more games a day against mill, mining and other kinds of teams."

Ruck said the white teams had little chance of winning. They were overmatched in talent, speed and experience. Yet, the white teams and their fans, regardless of the small town, seemed to relish the challenge.

"It was the highlight of their life," said Ruck, who has produced a TV documentary on the Negro Leagues. "Sometimes there would be meals for the black players -- or little celebrations after the game.

"This was the age of segregation, and you had black guys being feted by white people in what were basically all-white towns."

After the game, these baseball caravans went back on the road. Another stop, in another small town, chasing the game -- still chasing the dollars that came with barnstorming.

Baseball historians differ on whether many of the Negro League teams played the part of black minstrels. Some black teams like the Indianapolis Clowns did do a baseball rendition of the Harlem Globetrotters, but even the Clowns were a legit baseball team with the same high expectations as their Negro League contemporaries, Dixon said.

Ruck agreed.

"It's truer to say that the black guys realized that they had to put on a show," he said. "This is entertainment. Perhaps they kept the score down to draw fans. Nobody wants to see teams win 11-0 all the time."

Ruck had little doubt that black players rarely pandered to the racial stereotypes of the day. In most cases, they acted like professionals, and they rarely lost that firm grip on their professionalism.

Dixon echoed this view.

"That clowning and stuff, it was never an integral part," he said. "A ballplayer can do funny stuff and not be clowning. So I think for the convenience of history and how blacks are portrayed in history, it's more to the advantage to portray barnstorming as if it was more clowning."

In Dixon's opinion, Negro League players always had displayed a dramatic flair on the diamond. It made no sense, he said, to step onto the field in a white town and bore audiences who might never have heard of Biz Mackey, Cool Papa Bell, Smokey Joe Williams, Goo Goo Livingston, Moocha Harris, Bingo DeMoss, Double Duty Radcliffe, Buck Leonard, Pee Wee Butts, Bullet Rogan or Judy Johnson.

"Even if you could play, you couldn't be dull," Dixon said. "That wasn't a good formula. So you had to be colorful, but, at the same time, you had to have good ability to come in and play ball."

These weren't the easiest circumstances to play under either. While their talents on the field were appreciated, the black players still plied their trade in a segregated society. Black players could take no comfort in beating the white teams while trying to balance their lives off the field. The egalitarian concepts of fairness and justice didn't exist in the white restaurants, the movie houses, the nightclubs and the public accommodations that were closed to these black ballplayers in most U.S. towns.

Black players had to remain mindful of the color line. Not even money would let them cross it.

In his book, Invisible Men: Life in Baseball's Negro Leagues, Donn Rogosin told a story about Hall-of-Famer Monte Irvin, who recounted a racial incident in the deep South.

While barnstorming with the Newark Eagles, Irvin said he and his teammates made a stop at a cafe near Birmingham, Ala. Seeing Irvin & Co. approach, the cafe owner shook her head, signaling to the players that she wasn't about to serve black people.

"Why are you saying 'no,'" asked Irvin, "when you don't even know what we want."

"Whatever it is, we don't have," she responded.

"Won't you sell us some soft drinks, some Pepsi-Cola or Coca-Cola?" he asked again.

"No," she said bluntly.

In the Deep South, no meant no. Irvin understood he was in no position to quarrel. He left the encounter with the woman bewildered.

"How could she hate us so?" he lamented. "She didn't even know us."

For Negro League ballplayers, it was just another hardship to overcome, just one more frustration that chasing the game brought these talented men. But they never let racism rob them of their love of the game.

"If anybody ever played for the love of the game, it was black ballplayers," Dixon said. "They certainly weren't playing for a lot of money."

Yet love of the game couldn't erase other hardships. The bus rides wore on a player. The towns started to look the same. The daily routine took on the feel of a scene from the movie, "Groundhog Day." Each day started to look like the one before.

Still, those men who barnstormed had more good to say about the life on the road than the bad. Against this backdrop, they went on to build long, rich friendships, and they earned a place in sports history.

These were not experiences black players would ever forget, even as they voiced their anger over how white booking agents such as Syd Pollack, Nat C. Strong and Ed Gottlieb had mined most of profits out of these exhibition games.

A few years back, somebody had asked Dink Mothel, the late pitcher/utilityman for the Kansas City Monarchs, what he remembered most about his barnstorming days.

Mothel's answer was short and to the point.

"The hunger," he said.

Baseball legend Buck O'Neil talks about his days in the Negro Leagues     by Buck O'Neil as told to Bill Ladson

What makes Buck O'Neil one of the most fascinating figures in the Baseball History? He's one of the greatest historians/storytellers of the Negro Leagues. He should know. O'Neil played with and managed the Kansas City Monarchs from 1938-55. He guided the team to five pennants and two Negro World Series titles. That's not all. He had the keen eye for talent. Guess who signed Ernie Banks and Lou Brock to their first minor-league contracts with the Cubs? That's right, a scout named Buck O'Neil.

O'Neil also broke barriers in the Major Leagues, becoming the first African-American coach (also with the Cubs) in the big leagues in 1962. O'Neil, 90, is currently the chairman of the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, and MLB.com recently caught up with him and asked about his Negro League experiences.

The Negro Leagues mean so much to me. One of my greatest experiences was actually playing for the Kansas City Monarchs. Kansas City was a thriving place on 18th and Vine. ... Here I am, a country boy coming to Kansas City. Oh, that was exciting. ... I'm competing against some of the greatest athletes that ever lived. Outstanding.

To manage the Monarchs was actually easy for this simple reason: They had some the best athletes that ever lived. The Kansas City Monarchs were like the New York Yankees. Everybody wanted to play for the Kansas City Monarchs. We had no problem getting the best talent. All I had to do was make up the lineup and (let them play) -- and they could play. The players I managed with the Monarchs were Willard Brown, Hank Thompson, who later played with the (New York) Giants, Gene Baker, Ernie Banks -- the combination with the Cubs -- Elston Howard. (I knew they would be great Major Leaguers); all they needed was a chance. They had all the tools.

The majority of the time, we played in the Major League (ballparks) I'm telling you, (The movie,) The Soul of the Game and (other movies), that wasn't Negro League Baseball. We played all over the country. ... Every once in a while, we might (face) ... a little old local team and might play on a bad field, but the majority of the time, we played in the Major League ballparks. And if we weren't in the Major League ballparks, we were in organized ballparks. ... The Pittsburgh Crawfords had (their own ballpark) but (some of the) ballgames were in the Pirates' ballpark (Forbes Field). The (Homestead) Grays played in Griffith Stadium (in Washington D.C.) So, actually, it wasn't like The Soul of the Game and (all these other movies). This's what the writers want you to think.

I have no regrets about (my time) in baseball. My regrets would be that I couldn't attend Sarasota High School or I couldn't matriculate at the University of Florida. My Daddy was paying taxes to support the University and high School, but I couldn't attend (because of segregation). (I'm not bitter about baseball) because I played some of the best baseball in this country.

Satchel Paige was one of the greatest pitchers that ever lived. He had the greatest fastball. He threw it 100 miles an hour. He had great change of speeds. The greatest control pitcher I ever seen.

The best Major League Baseball player I've ever saw was Willie Mays, but the best baseball player was Oscar Charleston. Oscar could hit you 50 home runs, could steal 100 bases. This was Oscar Charleston. We old-timers say, "The closest thing to Oscar Charleston was Willie Mays."

(Even though pro baseball was segregated,) we still wanted to play (the game) because it was a good living. The Negro Leagues was the third largest black business in this country. During that time five thousand dollars was the minimum salary in the Major Leagues. A lot of us (in the Negro Leagues) made more than five thousand dollars. Now we had to play year-round to do it. After the (season, it was off to) Cuba, Mexico, Puerto Rico, South America, somewhere else.

A lot of people don't know that 40 percent of Negro League ballplayers were college men. During that time, I imagine, five percent of Major Leaguers were college men. (The Major League signed most of) the ballplayers out of high school. We had so many college men. We always trained in a black college town, and we played the black colleges in Spring Training, so that's where we got a lot of our talent.

What a lot of people don't know is that we won a majority of those ballgames, (when the Negro Leagues All-Stars faced the Major League All-Stars). Now that didn't mean we were better players than the Major Leaguers. We won the majority of the ballgames because the Major Leaguers were just making a payday. We wanted to prove to the world that they weren't superior because they were Major Leaguers and we weren't inferior because we played in the Negro Leagues. We stretched that single into a double, that double into a triple. We stole home. The Major Leaguers couldn't afford to twist an ankle or break a finger in an exhibition ballgame, but, honey, we went all out.

(Jackie Robinson signing a minor-league contract with the Dodgers) was the death knell of the Negro Leagues. We weren't worried about that because if (the Dodgers) could sign Jackie they could sign (us). We had some guys, at that time, who were better than Jackie because Jackie had only one year of organized baseball. But the Major Leaguers -- at that time -- didn't want the guys that were 30. (The Indians) signed Satchel because (they knew what he could do as far) as the gate was concerned.

Jackie Robinson was the right guy (to integrate baseball). Jackie was one of the greatest competitors that I've ever seen. Jackie knew what it meant (to be the first black person in the big leagues). If he had failed, it might have been another 50 years before (another black person played in the big leagues). If the other guys -- that I knew that were better than Jackie -- had a black cat thrown at them, they would have picked up that cat and take it up to the stands and ram it down the sucker's throat. You know what the (critics) would have said? "I told you so."

What people don't understand, the people that booed Jackie weren't baseball fans. These people might not have come to another ballgame for the next 10 years. These were the haters, these were the Klan. These were the people that were doing that booing. The true baseball fan asked, "Can you play?"

Negro League Baseball changed a lot of things in this country because Jackie Robinson was in Negro League Baseball. When Branch Rickey signed him, honey, that was the beginning of the modern day civil rights movement.

Comparing the two leagues - Doby, Irvin: More togetherness in Negro Leagues than Majors      By Tom Singer  MLB.com

On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson's first footprints in Ebbets Field's infield dirt signaled the beginning of an era.

But they also represented the end of an era for the Negro League veterans who followed him to the Majors and for countless others who would never experience playing for the Kansas City Monarchs or Homestead Grays or the other clubs that comprised the Negro Leagues.

It was the end of the age of innocence, of games played and lives lived with a tight bond. Baseball anywhere else was never the same.

"We were young, talented. Coming out of the Depression, we'd never been anywhere," recalled Monte Irvin, a two-time Negro League batting champ who joined the New York Giants in 1949. "The Negro League gave us a chance to earn a few dollars playing a game we'd play for nothing.

"It was very thrilling to travel around the country. The Negro League took us to places we'd never been before."

"Negro League Baseball was the kind of baseball I'll never forget," said Larry Doby, the one-time Newark outfielder who became the American League's first Black player on July 5, 1947 when he joined the Cleveland Indians. "I loved playing with those folks.

"It was much easier playing with those guys. It was a lot easier just being one of the guys."

They were all just "one of the guys," members of an irreplaceable brotherhood.

"The camaraderie of the Negro Leagues was so much greater," concluded James A. Riley, a Negro League historian. "Most of the guys were young, seeing the world for the first time. Because of the circumstances, they rode the same bus, ate in the same restaurant, stayed in the same hotel."

Or as Irvin put it, "You were playing with your own. After games, we'd get together and do things together."

The opportunity to cross the Majors' erased color line was not only a chance, but an obligation, to their families and to an entire race.

"We knew the Majors was where the money would be," Irvin said. "It behooved you to leave the Negro Leagues and succeed there. That's where growth would come from."

The pleasures became less private, and more profound.

In the anthology, "This I believe," Jackie Robinson himself reflected on a moment near the end of his first big-league season with bursting pride: "At the beginning of the World Series of 1947, I experienced a completely new emotion, when the National Anthem was played. This time, I thought it is being played for me as much as for anyone else. This is organized Major League baseball and I am standing here with all the others; and everything that takes place includes me."

Compared to such impact on history, the big-league adjustments transplanted Negro Leaguers had to make seemed like minor inconveniences.

"I'd heard the words many times before," Irvin said, lightly, dismissing the verbal abuse. "It just made you want to perform well, to get them off your back. We were venturing into a new field and didn't know what to expect.

"Life in the Majors was a little more difficult. After games, everyone went their separate ways. But you got used to that; that was no problem, either."

The game was the same, but the approaches to it differed greatly. As Riley summed up, Negro Leaguers just showed up, played, had a great time. When they reached the Majors, they were introduced to a new regiment.

"The White leagues were more structured," Riley said. "In the Negro Leagues, you didn't get the instruction Major Leaguers got. Natural talent just developed. They learned from doing. They didn't have coaches. A lot of times, they didn't even have managers, just players who got a few extra dollars for also acting as the manager."

They were special days. Borrowing from literature, Riley characterized the Negro Leagues as "the best of times, and the worst of times." But the mind's scrapbook invariable celebrates the highs.

"I've been to a lot of reunions of Negro League players," Riley said, "and they never dwell on the hard times. They're always celebrations of the good times they had."

Teddy Ballgame makes difference for Negro Leaguers to enter Hall      By Tom Singer

"The other day Willie Mays hit his five hundred and twenty-second home run. He has gone past me, and he's pushing, and I say to him, 'Go get 'em Willie.' Baseball gives every American boy a chance to excel. Not just to be as good as anybody else, but to be better. This is the nature of man and the name of the game.
"I hope some day Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson will be voted into the Hall of Fame as symbols of the great Negro players who are not here only because they weren't given the chance."
-- Ted Williams, Hall of Fame induction speech, July 25, 1966.

Monte Irvin still vividly remembers his reaction to those words, spoken unexpectedly, uttered from a podium in Cooperstown, with the entire world listening.

"I was surprised. I hadn't known that's how he felt," says Irvin, a spry 82-year-old, 46 years after the end of his belated eight-season Major League career. "But I was so happy that he did.

"What Williams said, a lot of others were thinking. But he said it, and it paved the way and made it easier for a lot of Negro League players to get into the Hall of Fame."

On to Cooperstown
The list below shows all the Negro League Players who were inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame starting in 1971.
Name	Position	Team best known for	Year inducted into HOF
* Hank Aaron	Shortstop	Indianapolis Clowns	1982
Cool Papa Bell	Center field	Homestead Grays	1974
Oscar Charleston	Center field	Pittsburgh Crawfords	1976
Ray Dandridge	Third Base	Newark Eagles	1987
Leon Day	Pitcher, second base, outfield	Newark Eagles	1995
Martin Dihigo	All	New York Cubans	1977
** Larry Doby	Second base	Newark Eagles	1998
Bill Foster	Pitcher	Chicago American Giants	1996
Rube Foster	Pitcher/manager	Chicago American Giants	1981
Josh Gibson	Catcher	Homestead Grays	1972
Monte Irvin	Shortstop	Newark Eagles	1973
Judy Johnson	Third base	Hilldale Daisies	1975
Buck Leonard	First base	Homestead Grays	1972
Pop Lloyd	Shortstop	Chicago American Giants	1977
***Willie Mays	Center field	Birmingham Black Barons	1979
Satchel Paige	Pitcher	Kansas City Monarchs	1971
****Jackie Robinson	Shortstop	Kansas City Monarchs	1962
Bullet Rogan	Pitcher	Kansas City Monarchs	1998
Hilton Smith	Pitcher	Kansas City Monarchs	2001
Turkey Stearns	Center Field	Detroit Stars	2000
Willie Wells	Shortstop	St. Louis Stars	1997
Joe Williams	Pitcher	New York Lincoln Giants	1999
**** Best known for breaking Babe Ruth's career home run record in the Major Leagues while playing for the Atlanta Braves. **** Best known for breaking the color barrier in the American League while playing for the Cleveland Indians. **** Best known for his home run and defensive prowess with the New York/San Francisco Giants. **** Best known for breaking the Major League color barrier while playing for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947.

Why did The Splendid Splinter say it? What prompted Williams, baseball's last .400 hitter, to devote 64 words of an economical 527-word speech to a subject that was hardly a burning issue of the day?

"I don't think anyone at the time anticipated anything like that," says James A. Riley, a noted researcher of Negro League history and prolific author on the subject. "I've talked with Williams several times, and I never got a true sense of why he felt that way, of why he felt about it so deeply."

It's unlikely that personal experiences fueled the sentiment. Born and reared in San Diego and a precocious rookie star in Boston by 20, Williams had little personal exposure to the prejudices that had excluded Black players. And he certainly wasn't venting pent-up frustration from years of playing with these delayed athletes; not until the season before Williams' 1960 retirement did the Red Sox become the last of the 16 Major League teams to integrate, with Pumpsie Green.

"I think Ted has a natural affinity for the underdog. He was prompted by that," Riley says.

Chances are Williams, ever the iconoclast, simply intentionally wanted to stir it up. And to his credit, he used his forum for a noble cause worth stirring.

"Williams was the first to say it, and for someone of his stature, so respected by the game, to take time out of his shining moment to recognize from his platform that there was a problem … it sheds light on him as a man," says Ray Doswell, curator of the Negro League Baseball Museum in Kansas City.

"When someone that respected speaks, people listen. What Williams said served as a message not only to people who make decisions, but to fans as well."

"That was a groundbreaking statement, and it opened peoples' eyes to the other half of baseball history," echoes Riley. "It definitely had a positive effect on getting Negro Leaguers into the Hall."

And quickly.

With Commissioner Bowie Kuhn picking up the ball, on June 10, 1971, the Hall of Fame created a committee to select for annual induction players who had been at least 10-year veterans of the Negro Leagues and were ineligible for regular Hall election.

In order, the Negro League Committee enshrined Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, Buck Leonard, Irvin, Cool Papa Bell, Judy Johnson, Oscar Charleston, Martin Dihigo and Pop Lloyd.

The special committee was dissolved in 1977 and its vote passed on to the regular Veterans Committee, which has continued the induction of Negro Leaguers such as Leon Day, Willie Foster, Willie Wells, Bullet Rogan, Smokin' Joe Williams, Turkey Stearnes, Rube Foster, Ray Dandridge and Hilton Smith.

This bit of baseball history, casting Ted Williams as somewhat the Abe Lincoln of Negro Leaguers, remains a largely overlooked aspect of the game's legacy.

"His speech is part of our exhibit," says Doswell, the museum curator, "and visitors always remark that they're surprised that he said it. It's an awakening for them."

It is said that on the day he was inducted, following his speech, Williams, in his best maverick mode, did not even pay a visit inside the Hall of Fame building.

He may not have gone through those doors. But he sure held them open for heroes of the Negro League.

They played, too - Latinos played a big role in the Negro Leagues     By Jesse Sanchez  MLB.com

There's a list of baseball players who graced the diamond last century that reads like a who's who of Latino legends past.

Take one quick glance and you'll find a Cepeda, a Tiant and a Minoso. An even closer look reveals a Hall of Famer -- Martin Dihigo, arguably one of the greatest players who ever put on a glove.

But take a deep breath because this list is unique. For the Cepeda mentioned is Pedro, not his Hall of Fame son Orlando. The Tiant is Luis Sr., not his All-Star heir Luis Jr. And the leagues these elder statesmen played in were not the Major Leagues, they were the Negro Leagues.

Together, Latino and African-American ballplayers have shared a passion for the game of beisbol that spans almost a century. It's a rich history full of competitiveness, gamesmanship and friendship among hundreds of players that precedes Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier by nearly fifty years.

"I remember watching the games from the stands, and sometimes the players would bring me down to dugout," said Tiant Jr., a former Boston pitcher whose father played for the New York Cubans in the Negro Leagues along with Minnie Minoso during the mid-1940s. "There were good games and they had a lot of good players during those years. A lot of those guys were good enough to play in the big leagues, but they couldn't. Not because of their ability but because of the color of their skin."

According to Negro Leagues historian and author James A. Riley, the first Latino team, the Cuban All-Stars, squared off against teams from the Negro Leagues in 1900 in an exhibition format. For the next 10 years, the trend continued, but by 1910, the Cuban All-Stars had become a permanent fixture in and around the Negro Leagues of the United States. During the next 25 years the Cuban All-Stars split into two squads, East and West.

"Cuba had the second best quality of baseball in the world at the time, so it was only natural that they come to America and compete against the best," Riley said. "Players and teams from Havana, Santa Clara, and Almendares are regarded as some of the best of all time."

The Cuban teams eventually evolved into what became the New York Cubans, a squad made up of predominately Latino players, in 1935. The elder Cepeda, the most celebrated player from Puerto Rico, was on the roster for the 1941 New York Cubans.

Historically, the NY Cubans were rivaled only by the Indianapolis Clowns, a barnstorming bunch of All-Stars during the 1940s, in terms of having players of Cuban, Puerto Rican, Dominican, Mexican and African-American descent on their roster.

"I don't think the bond was immediate among players, but as far as on the playing field, extremely competitive between the Black and Latin players," said Ray Doswell, curator of the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City, Mo. "Off the field the players would hang out with each other play cards and bond in a non-competitive atmosphere. Reports say they were bitter enemies on the field because of the competitiveness but they were friends off of it."

Minoso, a star with the Cubans in 1945, fondly recalls his time in the Negro Leagues. He should. After all, it was his first taste of professional baseball in the United States.

"It was a great experience because we were like brothers," said Minoso, who went on to become a seven-time All-Star with the Chicago White Sox. "It was 24 brothers traveling together on a crowded bus and all eating the same food. We used to fight to defend each other on and off the field. We took on everything together."

So it should come as no surprise that Latino and African-American players did well as teammates. Players from the Negro Leagues, including Robinson, Satchel Paige, and Josh Gibson, were participating in leagues across the Caribbean by the late-1930s -- first in Puerto Rico and Mexico, and eventually in Venezuela and the Dominican Republic. According to Riley, Robinson signed with Dodgers in 1945 at an airport before departing to Venezuela with his Negro League teammates for exhibition games.

For Latinos and African-Americans, playing year-round baseball in the United States and across the Caribbean had its advantages.

"For the Americans going down (the Caribbean), they were treated better there than in their own country," Riley said. "For the most part, there were no color distinctions or segregation, except for hotels owned by Americans or that had clientele from the U.S. The American players loved it down there because there was little discrimination and you received first-class treatment."

Add to the equation the fact that in order to survive as a professional ballplayer financially, participating in more than one league was almost necessity. As much fun as the players were having, it was also an economic decision to play year-round.

"My dad did not want me to play baseball at all because they did not make any money," Tiant Jr. said. "My dad wanted me to go college and be successful because he said baseball was too hard and there was nowhere to go. My mom finally talked him into letting me play."

For his part, Tiant Jr. did succeed as a Major League pitcher but wishes his father and other players in the Negro Leagues could have done the same. It's a point he'll share with anyone willing to listen.

"As a kid I always heard that I am good, but not as good as my father," he said. "I know that it is too bad a lot of good players were not allowed in the big leagues and for that, I feel lucky I could. I had the opportunity, they did not, but you cannot change the past."

True. Changing the past is not an option, but as long as the history of Latinos and African-Americans playing baseball together in the Negro Leagues and across the Caribbean endures, their feats will not be forgotten.

No league of their own - Barred from all-white leagues, three women found a place to play     By Dan Silverman  MLB.com

There's a scene in the movie, A League of Their Own, about the birth of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League during World War II, when the ball gets away from the players on the field. It stops near an African-American woman, who was not participating in the action. She picks it up and whips it back in, the ball popping impressively into the mitt of one of the players.

The moment was a poignant reminder, during an otherwise uplifting story, that this unique opportunity was not available for African-Americans. Not that the league, which lasted from 1943-54, had any written rules against it.

"The people I've spoken to didn't blame the absence of black players on prejudice," said Bill Madden, author of The All-American Girls Professional Baseball League Record Book. "More than one person I interviewed told me they just weren't up to speed. They said black women at the time weren't really involved in softball, which is where they got most of their players."

"We had a few blacks try out, but they just weren't as good," said Carl Winsch, manager of the league's South Bend Blue Sox from 1951-54. But after some consideration, he admitted, "If the league tried harder, shook the bushes more, as we used to say, we might've come up with someone."

That someone could've been Mamie "Peanut" Johnson. In fact, the black woman in the movie was intended to represent Johnson, who attended a league tryout in Alexandria, Virginia in the early 50s.

"I showed up with a friend of mine, Rita Jones," said Johnson. "They looked at me like I was crazy. They never even let me try out."

Instead, Johnson would go on to play in the Negro Leagues -- with the men. She was actually one of three known women of the era to play in the League, along with Toni Stone and Connie Morgan.

Stone was the first of the three to make it. After barnstorming with minor league teams in the late 1940s, she was signed by the Indianapolis Clowns in 1953 to replace a second baseman named Hank Aaron, who had left to play in the Major Leagues. As Aaron and some of the other black superstars trickled into the Majors, the Negro Leagues were forced to look for new gate attractions.

"Truly, the incentive was to get fans," said Ray Doswell, curator of the Negro Leagues Museum in Kansas City. "But it's not like they could get just anyone off the street. They found a real athlete in Toni Stone."

Negro League statistics were not as efficiently compiled as were those of the Major Leagues, but according to James Riley's The Biographical Encyclopedia of the Negro Baseball Leagues, Stone batted a respectable .243 her first season, which included a hit off legendary pitcher Satchel Paige.

"[Paige] was so good that he'd ask batters where they wanted it, just so they'd have a chance," said Stone before she died in 1996. "So I get up there and he says, 'Hey, T, how do you like it?' And I said, 'It doesn't matter, just don't hurt me.' When he wound up -- he had these big old feet -- all you could see was his shoe. I stood there shaking, but I got a hit. Right out over second base. Happiest moment in my life."

Stone was traded to the Kansas City Monarchs after 50 games, and was replaced by another woman, 19-year-old Connie Morgan.

"Morgan was another great athlete," said Doswell. "She played several sports, including basketball, in the offseason."

But the ace of this trio had to be Johnson. While Stone and Morgan both played second base, Johnson, who joined the Clowns as a starting pitcher in 1953, was part of the regular rotation.

"I pitched every six days or so," said Johnson. "Sometimes I went nine innings, other times six or seven."

And how did she do?

"I struck out my share."

One victim, who played for the Birmingham Black Barons, was particularly memorable.

"He said I wasn't as big as a peanut, how'd I expect to strike anyone out," said Johnson. And how did he fare against her? "Oh I struck him out."

Though the nickname "Peanut" stuck, resentment toward Johnson did not. For the most part, the rest of the players wholeheartedly accepted her.

"The men I played with were complete gentlemen," emphasized Johnson.

Says Doswell, who has witnessed firsthand how Johnson is received during Negro League reunions, "Mamie Johnson is just like one of the guys."

That fact was quite evident last year in Queens, New York, during a Negro League Conference at LaGuardia Community College. Johnson took her place at the dais with other former Negro League players: Bob Scott, Jim Robinson and Lionel Evelyn. She fit right in, reminiscing with the fellas about playing ball as a kid, talking about her favorite baseball memories, bemoaning the modern player's lack of a sense of history.

But among the audience, Johnson clearly stood out. Few people were familiar with former Negro Leaguers beyond a handful of superstars. Even fewer were aware that women played -- and held their own -- alongside some of these legends of the game. But there sat Peanut Johnson, a living testament to a fascinating piece of baseball history.

A typical "Peanut" moment came when Bruce Brooks, the moderator of the event and a professor at LaGuardia (as well as a professional baseball fan) asked about a well-known story that claims Satchel Paige taught Johnson how to throw a curveball. Johnson, however, showed mock indignation at the suggestion that she needed such advice. "He didn't teach me how to throw it, he taught me how to perfect it," corrected Johnson. "I knew how to throw it."

And throw it she did. During three seasons, some records show Johnson with an overall 33-8 mark.

While she has nothing but positive memories about her playing days -- "Have you ever won a million dollars?" she responded to a question about how she looks back on her time in the Negro Leagues -- Johnson does have some strong opinions about today's players.

"I don't think they realize, or understand, that if it weren't for these gentlemen," said Johnson, referring to her fellow panel members, "for Mr. Robinson, for Mr. Banks, Mr. Aaron, Mr. Mays, then they wouldn't be where they are today."

Johnson left the Negro Leagues in 1955 -- "I had a young son, and it was time for me to come home" -- and pursued a career in nursing for more than 30 years. But she has never really left the game. She runs the Negro League Baseball Shop with her son, Gary, in Maryland.

Clearly, baseball has remained a part of Mamie "Peanut" Johnson's soul.

"Those were the three best years of my life," said Johnson. "Just to know I was good enough to be there was a tremendous thing for me.

"If they didn't let me play, I wouldn't be who I am today, and I'm very proud of that."