A tribute to Jackie Robinson

So today is Jackie Robinson Day across the majors, celebrating the 60-whatever anniversary of his first game in the majors when he broke the color barrier in baseball.

I don't hang out much with Jackie out here. We just don't travel in the same circles. But I do run into him from time to time at reunions and Hall of Fame get-togethers. He's usually holding court with a group of his guys, and I'm usually holding court with a group of my guys. Occasionally our groups get all mixed up and I end up telling stories about the best gentlemen's clubs in St. Louis to his guys and he's talking about race and politics to my guys, who, frankly, have no idea WTF Jackie is talking about. Makes for an interesting evening.

Anyhoo, so today is Jackie Robinson Day, and I would like to honor him and his achievements. I remember the first time I met him, back in '47. He seemed so impressed to meet me. And why wouldn't he be impressed? I was quite a man back then.

I was impressed with him too. I remember telling Claire, "That Jackie Robinson is going to be famous some day. I'm not sure how or why, but I really think he's going to change the course of American history in some way." Claire doesn't remember me saying anything of the sort, but trust me, I said it. I knew in my gut that Jackie was going to be one special mutha.

What else do I remember about Jackie Robinson? A lot of guys out on the Internets are talking about how Jackie played the game with such ferocity, how he led the Dodgers to the World Series all those times, how he put up with all the taunts and beanballs, and all that crap.

What I remember most about him was the way he tied his shoes. Once, I was watching him practice before a game at the 1947 World Series, and someone told him his shoe was untied. He looked down, then looked back up at the guy and said, "Thanks." Then he took his glove off, dropped it on the ground, bent over, and tied his shoe. He picked up his glove, stood up, and started running again. It was just so dignified, yet there was such passion and intensity in the way he tied that shoelace. Sure, he could've had the clubhouse boy do it for him -- that's what I used to do -- but he didn't. He just tied it himself. And just the act of tying his own shoe showed that he was capable of anything, whether it was standing up to a court-martial for not moving to the back of an Army bus or stealing home against my Yankees in one of those World Series games.

I once asked Jackie if he remembered tying his shoe during that pre-game practice back in '47, and I'll never forget what he said to me: "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Yes, even the way he talked to your ol' Babe demonstrated the fire in his belly.

That Jackie was one of a kind, I'll tell you that. He reminds me of me. There was only ever one Jackie Robinson, but even more so, there was only ever one Babe Ruth.

I hope you enjoyed my tribute to Jackie Robinson.