All,
Many years ago, I was a small child in Trenton, NJ. I was probably no more than 7 years old. I know that because my parents divorced when I was eight and I left that comfortable living room in Trenton, NJ never to return. I say this to say that I have a fond and precious memory as a child with his father and a lesson taught to me by my father.It was an evening like any other in New Jersey. This evening there was a baseball game on. I do not remember being a big fan of baseball, but I did like enjoying nights with my father when I could have them. My father was a truck driver and many nights he was on the road earning the family's money. This evening he was home and that was what really mattered for me.The team that was playing was the Atlanta Braves. I do not remember who the Braves were playing that night, but again, it did not really matter. My father was in his favorite chair, like Archie Bunker, and was enjoying some food, probably ice cream, daddy liked ice cream. While the game was on, he was talking to me about a certain player on the Braves, Hank Aaron. I knew who he was, but my dad was telling me things less about his baseball ability but more about who he was and why everybody was watching this particular game.Daddy began to state how he was going to hit a homerun and change everything. I knew what a homerun was. I did not know what dadddy meant by his homerun changing everything. Daddy continued his story by stating that he was about to hit more homeruns than Babe Ruth. I knew who Babe Ruth was. I also knew who other famous ball players were like Lou Gherig and Ted Williams. I thought Hank Aaron was just like the rest of them. Common thought for a little kid. Daddy kept telling me the story of how Hank Aaron, a black man, is about to break a record set by a white man that many thought could not be broken or should not be broken by a black man. He continued to tell the story about how black men weren't given the same fair shot as others going back to Jackie Robinson. In retrospect, it was probably sad for me not to know who he was or his importance. As daddy continuted to tell the story, the story became less about racial fairness but more about race based pride (my words, not daddy's).
Daddy began to talk about how black people can be proud tonight. I did not know how much pressure was on Hank. All the while he began approaching this record, the hate towards him and his family grew. He was receiving hate mail and death threats over this record in baseball. He was being threatened and so was his family. They used words like 'nigger' this and 'nigger' that. It reminded me of what I knew about King and his attempt to march and the signs would be saying 'nigger' go home and such. Every night Hank woudl get these threatning messages, it must have been difficult to play ball when you walk onto the field and any person in the stands could have a gun and they can make an attempt to kill you-back to daddy.
Daddy was saying that they did not want a black man to do this because it would tear away at what white folk thought we could not do. Daddy would always remind me of how the attitude that he learned growing up in Mississippi about how Black folk can't do things has not gone away in the 70's. Daddy spoke of the pride he will feel and many black folk at the barber shop, bar room, truck yard and everywhere will feel when Hank hits this homerun. He will show the world that Black men can do a lot. That was the lesson I took away from daddy's lecture. What Hank is doing and the way he is doing it is a testament to a people. We, as a people, share Hank's achievement as a part of our race based pride, he conquered the doubts, attitudes, death threats, and isolation to achieve a monumental athlectic achievement. Daddy and I watched as that ball cleared the (as I remember) left centerfield fence and the scoreboard flashed the number of homeruns. I saw it real time with my dad and saw the smile on his face and the screams that went out for this achievement-not just for Hank but for a people.
Daddy's gone now ('87) and I don't know what he would have to say about Bonds. He may say he should have not done steroids, but he could also see how race could play a role. It would be an interesting discussion to have with him, I wish I could have it no matter the outcome.As a forty year old African American man I can honestly say that I am not in the Bonds camp. I do not have the same feeling about what he will most likely do like I had for and still have for Hank. I see a stark contrast between Hank and Barry with regard to the race based feeling I had for Hank.I struggle with the fact that I don't get the sense that Barry's pursuit is for and a part of the people like Hank's journey seemed to be for me. Barry's journey could very well be that, but I can't connect with it.
I need to be clear, Barry owes me nor anyone else a thing. He is a free man which means he is free to choose his path based on where his conscience leads him. He may be connected to something that I do not possess the understanding to follow. But in view of this, I still don't take any joy into this record. I do not recognize the same cultural importance of this event like I did for Hank. Is it the steroids? Probably. Is it his manner? Possibly. Is it what I hear? Most likely. Is it that I see him and other Black athletes moving further and further away from the proud tradition that produced them? Most assuredly so.
Whether we are professors, writers, actors, athletes, business men or whatever, I cannot separate our occupations from our traditions. I want the reader to know that I am not referring to just the traditions of the civil rights movement, but what is good about tribal people from any land, that tradition being that the tribe must survive before any individual survives. That the young need to be the warriors to protect the old and the widows. That we are, as Cornel West personally taught me, from a wounded and scarred people and we can never forget that.I saw and still see Hank's pursuit to be about baseball and his people. I don't see that with Barry Bonds. I could be wrong, but I don't see it.
Perhaps it is hard to see it through the fog of the market culture of athletics, advertising dollars, multimillion dollar contracts to players who have not won any significant amount of games or championships and the bitterness and hatred that still permeate these kinds of endeavors.
Now we have steroids and a long list of names who have used drugs to get ahead. What do we do now, will everyone be viciously attacked as Barry was. Well, I guess that depends on their "likability" in the league. I guess we will have to see.
Will all the record books have an asterisk next to it. Will Lenny Dykstra's late inning homerun in '86 or so be taken away. It is a shame for all, but when you look at the almighty dollar that is invested, not in character building, but in dynasty building, are we all not a little tempted to engage in behavior we might normally avoid. We will have to see.
Peace and Blessings to all,
Dr. Cyrus M. Ellis
Many years ago, I was a small child in Trenton, NJ. I was probably no more than 7 years old. I know that because my parents divorced when I was eight and I left that comfortable living room in Trenton, NJ never to return. I say this to say that I have a fond and precious memory as a child with his father and a lesson taught to me by my father.It was an evening like any other in New Jersey. This evening there was a baseball game on. I do not remember being a big fan of baseball, but I did like enjoying nights with my father when I could have them. My father was a truck driver and many nights he was on the road earning the family's money. This evening he was home and that was what really mattered for me.The team that was playing was the Atlanta Braves. I do not remember who the Braves were playing that night, but again, it did not really matter. My father was in his favorite chair, like Archie Bunker, and was enjoying some food, probably ice cream, daddy liked ice cream. While the game was on, he was talking to me about a certain player on the Braves, Hank Aaron. I knew who he was, but my dad was telling me things less about his baseball ability but more about who he was and why everybody was watching this particular game.Daddy began to state how he was going to hit a homerun and change everything. I knew what a homerun was. I did not know what dadddy meant by his homerun changing everything. Daddy continued his story by stating that he was about to hit more homeruns than Babe Ruth. I knew who Babe Ruth was. I also knew who other famous ball players were like Lou Gherig and Ted Williams. I thought Hank Aaron was just like the rest of them. Common thought for a little kid. Daddy kept telling me the story of how Hank Aaron, a black man, is about to break a record set by a white man that many thought could not be broken or should not be broken by a black man. He continued to tell the story about how black men weren't given the same fair shot as others going back to Jackie Robinson. In retrospect, it was probably sad for me not to know who he was or his importance. As daddy continuted to tell the story, the story became less about racial fairness but more about race based pride (my words, not daddy's).
Daddy began to talk about how black people can be proud tonight. I did not know how much pressure was on Hank. All the while he began approaching this record, the hate towards him and his family grew. He was receiving hate mail and death threats over this record in baseball. He was being threatened and so was his family. They used words like 'nigger' this and 'nigger' that. It reminded me of what I knew about King and his attempt to march and the signs would be saying 'nigger' go home and such. Every night Hank woudl get these threatning messages, it must have been difficult to play ball when you walk onto the field and any person in the stands could have a gun and they can make an attempt to kill you-back to daddy.
Daddy was saying that they did not want a black man to do this because it would tear away at what white folk thought we could not do. Daddy would always remind me of how the attitude that he learned growing up in Mississippi about how Black folk can't do things has not gone away in the 70's. Daddy spoke of the pride he will feel and many black folk at the barber shop, bar room, truck yard and everywhere will feel when Hank hits this homerun. He will show the world that Black men can do a lot. That was the lesson I took away from daddy's lecture. What Hank is doing and the way he is doing it is a testament to a people. We, as a people, share Hank's achievement as a part of our race based pride, he conquered the doubts, attitudes, death threats, and isolation to achieve a monumental athlectic achievement. Daddy and I watched as that ball cleared the (as I remember) left centerfield fence and the scoreboard flashed the number of homeruns. I saw it real time with my dad and saw the smile on his face and the screams that went out for this achievement-not just for Hank but for a people.
Daddy's gone now ('87) and I don't know what he would have to say about Bonds. He may say he should have not done steroids, but he could also see how race could play a role. It would be an interesting discussion to have with him, I wish I could have it no matter the outcome.As a forty year old African American man I can honestly say that I am not in the Bonds camp. I do not have the same feeling about what he will most likely do like I had for and still have for Hank. I see a stark contrast between Hank and Barry with regard to the race based feeling I had for Hank.I struggle with the fact that I don't get the sense that Barry's pursuit is for and a part of the people like Hank's journey seemed to be for me. Barry's journey could very well be that, but I can't connect with it.
I need to be clear, Barry owes me nor anyone else a thing. He is a free man which means he is free to choose his path based on where his conscience leads him. He may be connected to something that I do not possess the understanding to follow. But in view of this, I still don't take any joy into this record. I do not recognize the same cultural importance of this event like I did for Hank. Is it the steroids? Probably. Is it his manner? Possibly. Is it what I hear? Most likely. Is it that I see him and other Black athletes moving further and further away from the proud tradition that produced them? Most assuredly so.
Whether we are professors, writers, actors, athletes, business men or whatever, I cannot separate our occupations from our traditions. I want the reader to know that I am not referring to just the traditions of the civil rights movement, but what is good about tribal people from any land, that tradition being that the tribe must survive before any individual survives. That the young need to be the warriors to protect the old and the widows. That we are, as Cornel West personally taught me, from a wounded and scarred people and we can never forget that.I saw and still see Hank's pursuit to be about baseball and his people. I don't see that with Barry Bonds. I could be wrong, but I don't see it.
Perhaps it is hard to see it through the fog of the market culture of athletics, advertising dollars, multimillion dollar contracts to players who have not won any significant amount of games or championships and the bitterness and hatred that still permeate these kinds of endeavors.
Now we have steroids and a long list of names who have used drugs to get ahead. What do we do now, will everyone be viciously attacked as Barry was. Well, I guess that depends on their "likability" in the league. I guess we will have to see.
Will all the record books have an asterisk next to it. Will Lenny Dykstra's late inning homerun in '86 or so be taken away. It is a shame for all, but when you look at the almighty dollar that is invested, not in character building, but in dynasty building, are we all not a little tempted to engage in behavior we might normally avoid. We will have to see.
Peace and Blessings to all,
Dr. Cyrus M. Ellis
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