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Latinos in Baseball 1
Jacob Garcia
HST 306 Honors Contract
April 4, 2014
Latinos in Baseball: A Story of Hypocrisy, Ambiguity, and Racial Insensitivity
As Dave Zirin exposes in the film that is the foundation for this course Not Just a Game,
throughout the history of sports, many have made concerted efforts to make sports apolitical.
That is, some have argued that mixing politics with sports distorts the purity of the game.
Nevertheless, sports like baseball have been used to conceal the injustices of the world,
conveniently disregarding atrocities like discrimination and imperialism in order to create what
appears to be an accepting environment. As Adrián Burgos documents in his work, Playing
America’s Game, many Americans claimed that “baseball ‘Know[s] No Race’ and that baseball
had become a place where, through ‘the stress of contest,’ race prejudice was combated and
participants were transformed into fellow Americans” (Burgos, 101). However, while baseball
brought different cultures together, the sport did much to ensure that equality was not a part of
the game. An in-depth look at the circumstances of the Latino culture reveals this sad truth.
Understanding Latino participation during Jim Crow shows that baseball’s color line was
hypocritical and ambiguous. Furthermore, despite Jackie Robinson’s breaking of the color
barrier and integrating U.S. professional baseball in 1946, the racialization of Latinos baseball
players (and Latinos in general) continues into present day.
Latino participation in baseball during the Jim Crow era was quite different from that of
African Americans. While African Americans were still forbidden from participating in
professional baseball, Latinos were essentially the group to test the level of racial tolerance: the
group that was exploited to set the precedent and determine where white leaders drew the line of
Latinos in Baseball 2
inclusion. The sole determining factor was the color of skin, and as result, baseball’s color line
was open to the interpretation of the particular team manager. As Burgos states, “Baseball lacked
a uniform policy regarding race-based segregation. The question of the color line was viewed as
a local matter for individual associations and professional teams to consider for themselves”
(Burgos, 21). The ambiguous situation of Latinos, as they were neither white nor black, resulted
in inclusion for fortunate ones and exclusion for others.
Due to the color line’s ambiguity—which essentially permitted Latinos with lighter skin
to play and forbade Latinos with darker skin (resembling African Americans) from playing—
many Latino ballplayers who had the obvious talents to compete were excluded from the realm
of professional baseball because of their skin. Regarding pitcher José Mendez, Burgos states,
“José Méndez clearly had the talent, but not the racial pedigree” (Burgos, 106). Scouts raved
about the pitching ability of Méndez, and many claimed that there was little doubt that he would
have succeeded in professional baseball—of course, if he had had lighter skin. New York Giants
manager John McGraw even told a sportswriter that if, “‘Mendez was a white man he would pay
$50,000 for his release from Almendares [Méndez’s Negro League team]’” (106). By excluding
Latino players who resembled African Americans due to their darker skin, the hypocritical nature
of baseball’s color line is shown. Only allowing those with lighter skin to participate fails to
abide by the cardinal rule of all sports, in which the best talent wins out. Thus, by looking at
Latino participation (or lack thereof) in the Jim Crow era, one sees that baseball’s color line was
perfectly in-sync with the discriminatory thought of larger society—where skin color was
regarded as the most important factor in determining one’s ability to participate in life.
Furthermore, the treatment of Latinos in professional baseball demonstrates that baseball’s color
Latinos in Baseball 3
line only had a concept of black and white—a simplified segregation that fails to account for a
multitude of cultures that not only includes Latinos, but also Asians and Native Americans.
There were Latino players, however, who were allowed to participate. Latinos with
lighter skin were included in professional baseball, as white leaders were able to claim them as
Europeans. Yet as Burgos frequently states, “Inclusion did not mean equality.” Those who were
included, such as Vicente Nava, were ultimately regarded as “in-between space,” “exotic others”
and foreigners to “America’s pastime.” Burgos makes it clear that many felt that there was an
obvious demand for Latinos in baseball. For the most part, however, the talents of Latinos were
simply exploited in order to increase revenue and spectatorship: “It was in this vein that the
Providence board agreed to sign Nava, not as a challenge to the gentleman’s agreement or the
color line, but rather as an exotic drawing card” (Burgos, 38). The ethnicity and racial ambiguity
of Nava was exploited immediately, as he and the team’s other reserve players were ordered to
collect tickets upon entrance to the stadium on Opening Day of 1882 (Burgos, 41). Ultimately,
while Latinos were not subject to complete exclusion from baseball as African Americans were,
the disregard for their humanity and casting them as outsiders were nevertheless equally as
prevalent.
Players like Nava who were (un)fortunate enough to earn employment in professional
baseball by gaining the title of “racially ambiguous” (i.e. lighter skin) were not solely
dehumanized by serving as spectacles for fan attraction. Latinos players were also subject to
brutal acts of on-field violence by white players who detested integration of any sort. As Burgos
relates in his discussion of the Cubans who integrated the Connecticut League in 1908, “Cuban
players in the Connecticut League were the targets of knockdown pitches and attempted spikings
by opponents, much as African American players in the International League had been in the late
Latinos in Baseball 4
1880s…The first time [Ray] Fisher [a white pitcher] faced New Britain, he knocked two Cubans
out of the game, including Cabrera, who ‘was carried off the field unconscious’” (Burgos, 92).
Even worse than the on-field disrespect and harsh treatment in the Jim Crow era, Latinos
baseball players experienced a severe loss of culture—an essence predominantly due to the white
leaders’ desire to conceal any remote presence of African heritage. Along with name changes,
like Roberto Clemente to “Bob” Clemente, the management of professional baseball made every
effort to ensure that the Latino player they signed were as “white” as possible. Burgos reveals
this when he conveys that the portrayal of social class and wealth seemingly lightened the
players’ skin, “Team officials and sportswriters who supported the Reds’ signing stressed that
Almeida and Marsans came from the island’s elite and that their ethnoracial ancestry placed
them well above typical Cubans” (Burgos, 96). Their efforts culminated in turning a Latino
baseball player into the “Purest Bar[s] of Castilian Soap” (Burgos, 92). Due to baseball’s
oversimplified and ambiguous color line, white management would not accept the inclusion of a
Latino who resembled an African American in appearance or ancestry. Thus, they created a
hypocritical environment that allowed them to exclude “regular” Latinos and occasionally
include one from a “Castilian” background to create the image that sport transcends race.
In a sense, Latinos such as Vicente Nava, Alfredo Cabrera, and José Gómez were the
pioneers of the racial integration of professional baseball. Because of their inconsistent inclusion,
Latinos essentially acted as the test-subjects and set the precedent for Jackie Robinson (Burgos,
179). Integration of professional baseball gave Latinos and African Americans in Negro Leagues
and transnational leagues cultural pride, confidence, and a fervent desire to become the next
American success story. Yet while strides have been made in creating a more accepting
environment for all cultures, the racialization of Latinos baseball players has sadly continued.
Latinos in Baseball 5
When considering the racialization of Latinos post-integration, or how American society
has categorized Latino players on the basis of race, one must look no farther than the press.
Latinos were and continue to be misrepresented and humiliated by the English-only speaking
press, which is largely composed of white males. Burgos agrees when he states, “Rather than
publicizing their grievances or concerns, the press often posed another hurdle in Latinos’
adjustment to life in organized baseball and participated in their racialization” (Burgos, 221). San
Francisco Giants manager Alvin Dark and sportscaster Larry Kreuger (also of the Giants)
certainly are proof of this remark. Both issued racially insensitive remarks that “racialized”
Latinos as hot-blooded and animalistic. After being fired from his position as a sports radio host,
Kreuger was then heralded as a martyr for free speech.
Burgos goes on to assert that the sporting press purposely focused on the accents of
Latino players, further isolating them as outsiders (Burgos, 221). The most blatant example of
such practice was the Associated Press wire story regarding the Sammy Sosa corked bat scandal,
in which the reporter failed to clean up Sosa’s grammatical mistakes—thus reinforcing the
popular image of Sosa as a “moody Latino who spoke unintelligible English” (Burgos, 255).
Based on experience as a sports journalist and transcribing quotes, lack of grammatical prowess
is by no means exclusive to Latino players. If one were to quote word-for-word many college-
educated, Anglo-Saxon head coaches, the result would be a jumble of stream-of-conscious-like
thoughts that only represent fragmented ideas rather than coherent thoughts. Among the SPJ
Code of Ethics for journalists, minimizing harm is one of the fundamental rules. Failure to “clean
up quotes” creates unneeded harm and humiliation to any individual, regardless of race. Latinos
undoubtedly are impacted even worse: already under intense pressure and scrutiny to assimilate
Latinos in Baseball 6
and learn English as quickly as possible, many may decide to avoid the press entirely, thus
perpetuating the cycle of underrepresentation.
The scouting practices employed by white management are further proof that the
racialization of Latinos has continued. As Burgos remarks of the Washington Senators president
Clark Griffith, “[his] interest in Cuba had little to do with integration or social justice… Their
turn to Latin American was rooted in the racialized economy of organized baseball, in which
foreign-born Latinos were much less expensive in terms of acquisition, player development, and
salary if the Latino player panned out” (Burgos, 143). Professional baseball organizations erected
transnational leagues, in which teenage Latino players were encouraged to participate in hopes of
landing a spot on a big-league roster in America. Unfortunately, these Latino children were
forced to drop out of school, and thus were deprived of secondary and post-secondary education.
If the players were not talented enough to reach America or if once they got to America they
were stymied in the minor leagues for too long, they were discarded as commodities and left
without both baseball and education.
While it is crucial that we acknowledge and celebrate the efforts of Jackie Robinson in
integrating professional baseball, solely praising him ignores the rich history of Latino racial
pioneers. Burgos ridicules the lack of Latino inclusion in President Bill Clinton’s Initiative on
Race and proceeds to state, “Other commemorative events demonstrated similar blindness to the
impact of integration on Latinos and to Latino contributions in the process” (Burgos, 196). Long
before African Americans were allowed admittance into the realm of American professional
baseball, Latinos were being used to experiment with how far the color line could be expanded.
Players like José Méndez and Vicente Nava were among the many who experienced baseball’s
ambiguous and hypocritical color line, in which only Latinos who had “Castilian” ancestry were
Latinos in Baseball 7
allowed participation and darker Latinos were excluded, regardless of their skillset. Furthermore,
once the color barrier was broken, the racialization of Latinos persevered. Yasiel Puig has
become a common example. Puig, a 23-year-old Cuban outfielder for the Los Angeles Dodgers,
is incessantly ridiculed for his hard-nosed, passionate style of playing baseball. Hall of Fame
broadcaster Vin Scully likened Puig to a “horse that needs to be tamed.” Many, including Scully
and his own manager, fail to realize that his play is a protest: a protest that claims that the
difficulties of assimilating to a new culture, learning English, and appeasing the American press,
all while continuing to have success on the diamond, are the same issues that Latino players were
dealing with 100 years ago. Puig’s statement shows how sports and politics do mix. And, his
statement does not distort the “purity of the game.” Rather, it contributes to the evolution of the
game, as Puig sheds light on the difficulties that Latino American players face in hopes of
gaining acceptance. The day we understand, appreciate, and celebrate players like Puig, Méndez,
Nava and thousands of other lesser-known Latino players will be the day that baseball’s color
line is truly broken.
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