42 (2013)

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42 (2013)

Post by bunniefuu »

In 1945, America's greatest
generation came back from w*r.

The flags of freedom
fly over Europe.

n*zi Germany had been defeated...

and three months later, Imperial
Japan surrendered as well.

And there's jubilation
around this earth.

Men returned home.
Among them, some

of baseball's most beloved names.

Musial. DiMaggio. Williams.

Life in the United States
could return to normal.

- What's the guy's name?
- What's on second?

- Who's on second?
- Who's on first?

- I don't know.
- Third base.

And baseball was proof positive
that democracy was real.

A baseball box score, after
all, is a democratic thing.

It doesn't say how big you are
or what religion you follow.

It does not know how you voted
or the colour of your skin.

It simply states what
kind of ballplayer

you were on any particular day.

And he did it. It's a home run.

They knew he'd do it.

African Americans had served
their country gallantly.

They returned home from fighting
to free the world from tyranny...

only to find racism,
segregation and

Jim Crow law still
waiting at home.

Segregation was the law...

and no group was more scrupulous
in its observance of custom...

than organised baseball.

There was a long road ahead.

If African Americans dreamed
of playing baseball...

it was not for the Yankees...

but for teams like the Kansas City
Monarchs of the n*gro Leagues...

where the barnstorming
style of play

stood in contrast to the Majors.

In 1946, there were 16 Major
League baseball teams...

with a total of 400
players on their rosters.

Every one of the 400
players were white.

But when opening day came in 1947,
that number dropped to 399...

and one man stood apart.

Gentlemen, I have a plan.

Plan's good, Mr Rickey.
You always have one.

My wife says I'm
too old. Heh, heh.

That my health's not up to it.

My son says, everybody in...

Everybody in baseball is
gonna be against me. Heh.

But I'm gonna do it.

Do what, Mr Rickey?

I'm gonna bring a
n*gro ballplayer...

to the Brooklyn Dodgers.

With all due respect, sir,
have you lost your mind?

Think... Think about...

Think about the abuse...

that you are gonna take
from the newspapers...

let alone how this is gonna
play out in Flatbush.

Please, Mr Rickey.

Sit down, Harold.

No law against it, Clyde.

No.

No, but there's a code.

You break a law and get away with

it, some people
think you're smart.

You break an unwritten law...

you'll be an outcast.

So be it.

New York's full of
n*gro baseball fans.

Dollars aren't black and
white, they're green.

Every dollar's green.

I don't know who he is...

or where he is...

but he's coming.

Hey, runner.

Where'd you learn to move like
that, at a dime-a-dance night?

Stand still.

There you are.

Ball.

Safe.

Catcher.

When you gonna start
throwing for real?

You talking to me?

You got a rag arm, catcher.

Steal home. You'll find out
what kind of arm I got.

Okay.

I'm coming.

Where's your shortstop from?

California.

Sure got a mouth on him.

Safe.

Discussions concerning
Japan's offer of surrender.

Washington, London,
Moscow, and Chungking...

now framing their decision.

When this decision
will be communicated

to Tokyo via the government's...

- Fill her up?
- Yes, sir.

- You boys heading out?
- Chicago.

Chicago, huh? Heh.

- You boys get around.
- Yeah, we sure do.

- Hey. Hey, you, where you going?
- To the toilet.

Hell, come on, boy. You
know you can't go in there.

Them Cokes are a nickel.

Take that hose out of the t*nk.

- Robinson.
- What?

I said take it out.

We'll get our 99 gallons
of gas some place else.

All right, then. Go on.

Go on. Use it.

Roy Campanella.

Hell of a player. He's too
sweet. They'd eat him alive.

All right.

Oh, sorry. Oh, wait. Sorry.

- Satchel Paige, then.
- He's too old.

We need a player with
a future, not a past.

Here.

Jack Roosevelt Robinson.

Four-sport college
man, out of UCLA.

That means he's played
with white boys.

Playing for the
Kansas City Monarchs.

Twenty-six years old. He's
batting .350. Three-fifty.

Methodist.

Commissioned Army officer.

He was court-martialled.

He's a troublemaker.

Well, he argues with umpires.

A quick temper is his reputation.

Well, what was he
court-martialled for?

Wouldn't sit in the back of a
m*llitary bus. Fort Hood, Texas.

Driver asked him to, move back.

MPs had to take him off.

There, you see?

I see he resents segregation.

If he were white, we'd
call that spirit.

Robinson's a Methodist.

I'm a Methodist.
God's a Methodist.

We can't go wrong. Find him.

Bring him here.

How are you, fellas? I'm
looking for your, shortstop.

You Jackie Robinson?

Who are you?

Mr Rickey.

What's this about?

This is about baseball, Jackie.

I see you starting in spring
with our affiliate in Montreal.

If you make it there...

we'll try you down here...

with the Dodgers.

With the white Brooklyn Dodgers.

I'll pay you $600 a month.

And a $3500 bonus when
you sign the contract.

That agreeable?

- Yes, that's fine but...
- There's one condition.

I know you can hit behind the
runner. That you can read a pitch.

One question is...

can you control your temper?

My temper?

Yes, your temper.
What are you, deaf?

A black man in white baseball,
heh, can you imagine the reaction?

The vitriol?

Dodgers check into a hotel,
a, a decent, good hotel.

You're worn out from the road.

Some clerk won't give you
the pen to sign in with.

"We got no room for
you, boy. Not even

down in the coal bin
where you belong."

Team stops at a restaurant.
Waiter won't take your order.

"Didn't you see the sign on the
door? No n*gg*r*s allowed."

What are you gonna do then?
Fight him? Ruin all my plans?

Answer me, you black
son of a bitch.

You want a player who doesn't
have the guts to fight back?

No.

No.

I want a player who's got
the guts not to fight back.

People aren't gonna like this.

They're gonna do anything
to get you to react.

Echo a curse with a curse
and, they'll hear only yours.

Follow a blow with
a blow and they'll

say, "The n*gro lost his temper."

That, "The n*gro does not belong."

Your enemy will be out in force...

and you cannot meet him
on his own low ground.

We win with hitting, running,
fielding. Only that.

We win if the world is
convinced of two things:

That you are a fine gentleman
and a great baseball player.

Like our Saviour...

you gotta have the guts...

to turn the other cheek.

Can you do it?

You give me a uniform...

you give me a, heh,
number on my back...

and I'll give you the guts.

Hello?

Rae...

Jack.

I'm in Brooklyn.

Brooklyn? For what?

I don't want to say on the phone.

In fact, I'm not
supposed to tell anyone.

What's going on? Aren't you
supposed to be playing in Chicago?

We've been tested, you and me.

We've done everything
the right way. We have.

Me trying to make money,
you finishing school.

We don't owe the world a thing.

Only each other.

Jack, what are you talking about?
What is going on? What happened?

Will you marry me, Rae?

Absolutely.

Yes. Yes.

When?

How about right now?

Did my mum look happy?

Yes. You know your
mother loves me.

Did my gramme look happy?

Yes.

My brother look happy?

- Heh, your brother?
- Ha, ha.

Everyone looked happy. I've never
seen so many happy-looking people.

Did Jack Robinson look happy?

What if I can't make you happy?

Too late.

You already do.

It's you and me, Rae.

Ooh, ha, ha.

Till the wheels fall off.

Oh, Jack, the world
is waiting for us.

The world can wait one more night.

Are you coming, Mrs Robinson?

I'd follow you
anywhere, Mr Robinson.

Okay.

Okay.

Flight to Pensacola
leaves in an hour.

Flight to Pensacola
leaves in an hour.

"Flight to Pensacola
leaves in an hour.

Flight to Pensacola
leaves in an hour."

Are you okay?

I've just never seen one before.

Oh.

Yeah, we're not in
Pasadena any more.

Rae?

Rae?

Rae.

Oh, boy.

We have to lighten the plane.

There's some bad
weather east of here.

A heavy plane is dangerous.

So someone'll have to cancel.

Look, I'm with the Brooklyn
Dodger organisation.

I have to get down to Daytona.

I'm supposed to report to
spring training in the morning.

We'll do our best
to get you there by

tomorrow, but it might
be the day after.

- Jack.
- Right this way.

You gave away our seats?

You get us back on that plane.

You get us back on
that plane right now.

Do you wanna call the sheriff...

or should I?

Watch your step.

Oop, there he is. There's my boy.

Folks, stand back, we'll
get the bags out.

Jackie Robinson.

Wendell Smith.

Pittsburgh Courier.

A reporter?

Mr Rickey sent me to meet you.
I'm gonna be your Boswell.

My who?

Your chronicler.

Your advance man.

Hell, even your chauffeur.

Mrs Robinson.

It's Rachel.

Man, you two looked wiped out.

You got a car?

Huh.

Brooklyn plays downtown. Montreal
just a few blocks from here.

Joe and Duff Harris live here.

He gets out the
n*gro vote. He does

a lot of good for coloured people.

Now, Mr Rickey set it up himself.

"If the Robinsons can't
stay at the hotels...

they should stay some place
that represents something."

You'll stay here all but a few
days at the end of the week...

when the Dodger
organisation goes to

Sanford. It's about
45 minutes away.

You'll stay here, Rachel.

This'll be your home when
Jackie has to travel.

Where are the other wives staying?

Welcome to Daytona Beach.

- There are no other wives.
- You must be Jackie.

You're the only one that Mr Rickey
allowed to spring training.

- Thank you.
- After you.

Come on, now, skip.

All right, here we go, boys.

- I got it. I got it.
- I got it.

That was a pretty big hop, there.

- You got the hop.
- Ha, ha.

Spring training. It's where
we work out our differences.

All right.

You boys continue to pretend
you're ballplayers.

- Morning, Leo.
- Good morning, Mr Rickey.

How are they doing?

They're rusty, but we'll have them
oiled up in no time, ready to go.

Oop.

First day of spring training.

Pittsburgh Courier readers
need to know how it feels.

It's okay.

That's not exactly a headline.

It's all I got.

Look, Jack, right now,
it's just me asking you.

But there's gonna be The New York
Times and the Sporting News.

You should think about it.

If they ask something,
I'll answer it.

Okay, well here's one for you:

What if one of these white
pitchers throws at you?

Look, they're gonna
try to get under

your skin. You need to be ready.

Listen, listen.

You know...

You know how when
you're at the plate...

you want to see the
ball come in slow?

You want to see these
questions come in slow too.

Hey, Jackie. Jackie, you think you
can make it with these white boys?

I had no problems with white
men in the service or at UCLA.

What you gonna do if one of these
pitchers throws at your head?

Yeah, Jack.

- I'll duck.
- Heh, that's a good one.

Hey, Jack, what's your
natural position?

I've been playing shortstop.

Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job?

Reese plays for Brooklyn.

I'm still trying to make Montreal.

Hey, Jack. Hey, Jack,
is this about politics?

It's about getting paid.

"About getting paid." Hear what he
said? "It's about getting paid."

He's gotta be kidding.

Yeah. Good luck, Hop.

Clay, Jackie Robinson.

Jackie, I'd like you to meet Clay

Hopper. Manager of
the Montreal Royals.

Jack. They call me Hop.

Now, we ain't doing
much today. Just

tossing the ball
around, hitting a few.

You can probably toss with
those fellows over there.

Jorgensen, come here.

You're not playing him
at shortstop, huh, Clay?

Oh, he's getting by on a quick

release. His arm's
too weak for short.

I think second base is his spot.

I agree.

Clay...

I need you to get
the other players

to act like gentlemen around him.

Treat him like they would
any other team-mate.

Be natural, work
together in harmony.

Got the double up.

That was practically superhuman.

Heh, "superhuman"?

I mean, don't get carried
away, Mr Rickey.

That's still a n*gg*r out there.

Come on in now. Grab
a bat. Who's up?

Nice job, boys.

Clay, I realise that attitude is
part of your cultural heritage.

That you practically nursed race

prejudice at your
mother's breast...

so I'll let that go.

But I will tell you this:

You will either manage Robinson
fairly and correctly...

or you, sir, can be unemployed.

Yes, sir.

Let's go. Come on, guys, let's go.

Way to turn two, Jackie.

Well, well, lookie here.

Jackie, I'm Mr Brock.

Welcome to Sanford, Florida.

Thank you for having us.

The day belongs to
decent-minded people.

- Wendell, always good to see you.
- You as well.

Yeah, well, the wife's
inside cooking.

You know what she asked me?
She asked me this morning:

What do you serve when a
hero's coming to dinner?

Heh, Mr Brock, I'm
just a ballplayer.

Oh, no, no.

You tell that to all
the little coloured

boys playing baseball
in Florida today.

To them, you a hero.

- Here you go, ma'am.
- Thank you, sir.

Here you go.

Scorecards, get your
scorecards here.

Scorecards here. Get
your scorecards here.

Ed. You stay where I can see you.

Mum, I'm 10 years old.

Come on.

Welcome to the inner-league game
between the Brooklyn Dodgers...

and their Minor League
affiliate, the Montreal Royals.

There you go, Pee Wee.

Now coming to bat
for the Royals...

number nine, Jackie Robinson.

Get out of here.

Stand up tall, Jackie.

Get out, n*gg*r.

Jack's got a thick
skin. He'll be okay.

Well, how about you?

I better get one in a hurry, heh.

Have pride, Jackie.

Look. Look, there he is,
black as the ace of spades.

Hey, n*gg*r boy. What are
you doing playing baseball?

Hit a home run, Jackie.

Please, God, let Jackie
show them what we can do.

- Please.
- All right, now, Jackie Robinson.

Let's go, Jackie.

Come on, Jackie.

Ball.

They're giving you a chance.
Do something about it.

Let's go, Higbe. Shut
him down right here.

Ball.

Durocher, tell him to
throw some strikes.

Let him hit.

Come on now, come on now.

He ain't scared of you, Higbe.

You show him, Jackie.

Ball.

Come on, rook. Ain't you
gonna swing at something?

Higbe, just settle
down. Let's get the

ball over the plate
now, all right?

Ball four.

You stink, Higbe.

It's just a walk.

Ha, ha, who can blame them?

Good job, Jackie.

Now coming to bat
for the Royals...

number 3, Spider Jorgensen.

Let's go, Hig.

All right, Higbe,
shake it off, there.

We got this, boy. We got
this, boy. Let's do it.

Well, throw it over there.
What are you waiting for?

Safe.

Come on, pop up, Jack.

Ball one.

Yeah, Jackie.

Heads up, Jack. Get the sign.

- He's going.
- Runner. Runner.

- Come on, move.
- Get back.

Get him, Schultzy.
Get him, Schultzy.

Here we go.

What are you gonna
do now? Come on.

Outside. Outside.

On your horse, Bragan.
On your horse. Outside.

- Now.
- Go, Stanky. Go, Stank.

Ooh.

Hey, all right.

Hey. Don't you know nothing?

You're supposed to get
back when I step off.

What are you doing? You can dance

with him later.
Focus on the plate.

Come on, now. Work the
plate. Work the plate.

Come on, Higbe, don't
worry about the

runner. Get this guy at the plate.

Timeout.

That's a baulk.

Runner, take home.

Son of a bitch.

He didn't come to play,
he came to k*ll.

What happened? I don't understand.

The pitcher dropped the ball. It's
a baulk. Therefore, Jackie scores.

But he didn't do anything.

Oh, Mama, yes, he did. He
discombobulated the man.

He... What?

Phew.

I hope Jackie's
sleeping all right.

Chasing baseballs in the sun
all day? Put me in my grave.

- How they treating him out there?
- Well, they treat him okay.

As far as I can see.

Well, you can find good
people every place.

Even here in Sanford.

Is he in there?

Who is it that you're looking for?

The nigra ballplayer.

Is he in there?

He's asleep right now.

Maybe you wanna come
back in the morning.

No, I ain't coming back.

Other fellas is coming.

And they ain't happy that he's
staying here in Sanford...

playing ball with white boys.

Now, let me tell you
something, sir.

No, you listen to me, young man.

You best just skedaddle
on out of here.

Because if they get here
and he's still here...

there's gonna be trouble.

You understand?

Trouble.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

Mr Brock.

May I please use your telephone?

Wake him up and get
him out of there.

Put him in the car and, start
driving to Daytona Beach. Now.

Oh, and, Wendell...

under no circumstances are you to
tell him what this is about...

I don't want him getting
it in his head...

to stay there and fight.

Where's he at?

I don't know. Think he's
getting another one.

Hey, Jim. You escorting
that boy out of town?

Hey, look at this.

What's that?

What's he want?

Hey, hey, hey.

What the hell, Wendell?

A man came by while
you was asleep.

He said more men were coming.

It might have been those fellas.

Mr Rickey said to get you
to Daytona Beach ASAP.

Why didn't you say so?

Mr Rickey was afraid
you wouldn't leave.

You'd want to stay
there and fight.

Man, what in the hell
are you laughing at?

I thought you woke me because
I was cut from the team.

You got a strange
sense of humour, man.

Two, two, two. Take him
back. Throw him out now.

Safe.

You're too fast for them, Jackie.

All right, way to
go. Way to go, boy.

Get that n*gg*r off the field.

Come on, Spider, bring
him in. Let's go.

We got him.

Four. Four. Four.

- No cut.
- He's running through.

Safe.

Get off the field.

- What?
- Get off the field. Now.

Why?

Because it's against
the law, that's why.

No n*gg*r's gonna
play with white boys.

Now you get off the
field, or go to jail.

You use that thing, you better
hit me between the eyes.

Hey, hold on, now.
What'd he do wrong?

We ain't having no nigras mix
with white boys in this town.

You all ain't up-states now.
They gotta keep separate.

The Brooklyn Dodgers ain't
changing our way of living.

Where you all from, anyhow?

I'm from Greenwood, Mississippi.

Ha, ha, hell, boy, you
ought to know better.

Now, you tell your
nigra I said to git.

What did you do?

Oh, I said:

"Okay, skipper. I'm a-gitting,
I'm a-gitting, I'm a-gitting.

- You don't want no trouble."
- You did not.

- Yes, I did. Yes, I did.
- Ha, ha.

Then I took a cold shower.

We lost two to one.

Aw.

Okay, skipper. I'm
a-gitting, I'm a-gitting.

Oh, no, you not
getting away from me.

Jack.

Get back, Rae.

I want you to know something.

Yeah, what's that?

I want you to know I'm pulling
for you to make good.

A lot of folks around
here feel the same way.

If a man's got the goods, he

deserves a fair
chance, that's all.

Ma'am.

You wanted to see me, Mr Rickey?

Bermuda grass grows so well here.

I wish we could get it to grow
like this up in Brooklyn.

Yeah.

I like the way it smells
when they mow it.

Heh, me too.

Jackie...

it is my pleasure...

to tell you that you have earned a
place with the Montreal Royals.

When they head north
on Tuesday for

opening day with Jersey City...

you'll be on the train.

I won't let you down.

Yeah, I know you won't.

If you don't mind, I'd
like to go tell my wife.

Ah, you give her my regards.

Mr Rickey?

Why are you doing this?

I'm in the baseball business.

With you and the
other n*gro players

I hope to bring up next year...

I can put together a team that
can win the World Series.

And the World Series means money.

You believe that, don't you?

I don't think it matters
what I believe.

Only what I do.

Agreed.

Therefore...

I want you to worry those
pitchers till they come apart.

Run as you see fit.

Sometimes you'll get caught,
but that doesn't matter.

Ty Cobb got caught plenty.

You just run those bases
like the devil himself.

Put the natural fear
of God in them.

Yes, sir.

Train for Atlanta and
points north now boarding.

Train for Atlanta and
points north now boarding.

There he is.

All aboard.

Young man.

I can still hear him.

I can still hear him.

Play ball.

And now the line-up of the
visiting Montreal Royals.

Batting first, playing
centre field, Marv Rackley.

Batting second, playing
second base, Jackie Robinson.

Batting third, playing
left field, George Shuba.

Hey, you okay?

I think I might be sick.

Excuse me, Wendell.

Popcorn. Get your popcorn.

You all right, honey?

I'm sick.

Don't know why.

Thank you.

When did you have
your monthly last?

It may be that you're pregnant.

Now batting for Montreal,
number 9, Jackie Robinson.

Come on, Jack.

Come on, Jackie.

- Come on, batter.
- Put it here.

Whoo.

He may be superhuman after all.

Way to go.

Oh, Jack.

Yeah.

My daddy left. Heh.

He left us flat...

in Cairo, Georgia.

I was only six months
older than you are now.

I don't remember him.

Nothing good, nothing bad.

Nothing.

You will remember me.

I'm gonna be here with
you till the day I die.

Yeah.

Hello, Leo.

What are you doing?

I'm bowling.

No, I'm snowshoeing in the Alps.

I'm trying to sleep, Mr
Rickey. It's still dark out.

Another spring training is
upon us, Leo. In Panama.

I need to know your attitude
towards Jackie Robinson.

I don't got an
attitude toward him.

Eight times in the
Bible we're told

to love our neighbour as ourself.

It's one of God's most
repeated commands.

Well, I don't know
much about the Bible.

But I didn't go to school
just to eat my lunch.

I'll play an elephant if
he can help us win...

and to make room for him, I'll
send my own brother home.

Oh, what are you gonna do with me?

We're playing for
money here. Winning

is the only thing that matters.

Is he a nice guy?

Well, if by nice
you mean soft, no.

No, not particularly.

Good, he can't afford to be.

- Nice guys finish last.
- And what about nice girls?

So you have no objection to him?

None whatsoever. Can I
go back to sleep now?

- Yes.
- All right.

- Oh, and Leo.
- What?

The Bible has a thing or two
to say about adultery as well.

I'm sure it's got a lot to
say about a lot. Good night.

What am I gonna do with you?

I thought you knew.

You gonna take care of your mama?

No? You better.

You gonna take care of my mama?

Come here, baby.

- There you go.
- Come here, baby, I got you.

Promise me you'll write?

When have I ever not written?

I want you to know I'm there for
you, even if it's words on paper.

Rae...

you're in my heart.

You're getting close now, and the

closer you get, the
worse they'll be.

Don't let them get to you.

I won't.

God built me to last.

I'll see you in Brooklyn
in eight weeks, oh.

It might be Montreal.

It's gonna be Brooklyn.

I know it is.

Why do you think
Rickey's got us playing

spring games here in Panama, huh?

He wants us to get
used to n*gro crowds.

He wants more of them
than there are of us.

And he's hoping it'll make us more
comfortable being around Robinson.

Ahem. All right, ahem.

Listen up. This is what I got.

"We, the undersigned Brooklyn
Dodgers, will not play ball...

on the same field as
Jackie Robinson."

That's right.

Kirby Higbe.

- I'll sign that.
- All right.

Brooklyn Dodger Declaration
of Independence.

That's right.

Give me that.

You all sure about this?

You wanna play ball with a n*gg*r?

Skip's got you out in left?

- Yeah, for today.
- Hey, Robinson.

What do you want me
to do with this?

Well, you play first base.

Coach, I never played
first base in my life.

Well, it's like this:

Brooklyn's got a solid
second baseman.

We got Pee Wee Reese
over at short.

But first base is up for grabs.

Come on in.

- Hey, Stank.
- What's going on?

Well, we got a petition
going on, Stank.

Keep Robinson in Montreal.
Where he belongs.

Can't sign now, boys.

I'm indisposed.

How about I just catch
up with you later?

That ball's coming in
a lot faster, Jack.

The angle's a lot
different in second.

Take all the time in the world
on second. You're getting it.

That's like you have a suitcase
on your hand there, Jack.

The new glove, it's the big one

there, Jack. You'll
get used to it.

Give me the pen.

You know Mr Rickey wants you
to play conspicuous baseball.

To be so good that the Dodgers
demand to have you on their team.

That's it.

So I thought about
it for a while...

and I looked up "conspicuous"
in the dictionary.

It means "to attract
notice or attention."

Conspicuous.

Look, it's like
this: I got a wife,

I got a baby and I got no money.

So I don't wanna step
in anything, so...

You want to skip me on this
one, Dix. I'm not interested.

What if they put him at shortstop?

Exactly.

That's right, Pee Wee.

Well, I figure if he's man
enough to take my job...

- he deserves it.
- Ugh.

Oh, the hell he does.

He does not have the
ice water in his

veins to play big league baseball.

- That's right.
- So let him show what he's got.

Robinson can either
play or he can't.

It'll all take care of itself.

It's gonna cut you off.

So right foot on the
bag when it comes.

There you go. That's nice, Jackie.
Nice, Jackie. Pop that foot off.

When that ball comes, that
right foot, just pop that.

Pop that... Don't leave
that foot on there.

Yes, Mr Rickey.

Have our friends in the
press gone to sleep?

We are the only people awake on
this entire isthmus, Mr Rickey.

About this, petition, Leo.

I think a deliberate violation
of the law deserves...

a little show of force.

I leave it to you, Leo.

Good night.

Good night, Mr Rickey.

So, what are we doing
here in the night?

Leo said to get
everybody together.

- I was sleeping good.
- Down in the kitchen?

Wake up now, ladies. Wake up.

It has come to my
attention that some of

you fellas don't wanna
play with Robinson.

That you've even got
a petition you've

drawn up and you're
all going to sign.

You know what you can
do with your petition.

You can wipe your asses with it.

- Oh, come on, Leo.
- Come on, what?

Ballplayers gotta live
together, shower together.

It ain't fair to force
him on us like this.

Besides, I got a hardware store...

Screw your hardware
store, Dix. And

if you don't like it, screw you.

Mr Rickey will be happy to make
other arrangements for you.

Now, I don't care if he
is yellow, or black...

or has stripes like a zebra.

If Robinson can help us win, and

everything I have
seen says he can...

then he is gonna play
on this ball club.

Like it, lump it, make your minds
up to it, because he's coming.

And think about this when your
heads hit the pillows tonight.

He's only the first, boys.

Only the first.

There are more coming right
behind him every day...

and they have got talent
and they wanna play.

Oh, yeah, they are gonna
come scratching and diving.

So I would forget your petition
and worry about the field...

because unless you fellas pay a

little more attention
to your work...

they're gonna run you right
out of the ball park.

Bragan, most of your
team-mates have already...

recanted on this
petition nonsense.

Are you really here to tell me you
don't wanna play with Robinson?

Yes, sir.

My friends back in Birmingham
would never forgive me.

Well, what about your
friends in Brooklyn?

I don't know.

Then I will accommodate you.

As long as you give
me your word that you

will do your very
best for this team...

until I can work out a trade.

Do you think I would quit on
anyone? I don't quit, sir.

Only on yourself, apparently.

Taxi.

Hey, Jack.

You again.

That's right. Me again.

There something wrong
with that, Jack?

Where's the car?

Right this way.

They can't keep you
in Montreal for long.

After these exhibition games,

they're gonna have
to bring you up.

You don't have two words
to rub together, do you?

You ever wonder why I sit
down behind third base...

with my typewriter on my knees?

Does that ever cross your mind?

It's because n*gro reporters
aren't allowed in the press box.

So guess what?

You, Mr Robinson, are not the only

one with something at stake here.

I apologise.

You've been there for
me through this...

more than anyone besides
Rae and Mr Rickey.

But I guess that's
what bothers me.

How do you mean?

I don't like needing someone
to be there for me.

I don't like needing
anyone for anything.

I never have.

You a hard case, Jack Robinson.

Hey.

Is it okay if I keep
driving you, or

should I let you get
out so you can walk?

"Branch Rickey cannot afford
to upset team chemistry...

so the only thing keeping Robinson
off the Dodgers now, plainly...

is the attitude of the players.

If it softens at the sight
of Jackie's skills...

he'll join the club sometime
between April 10th and April 15th.

Otherwise, Robinson will spend
the year back in Montreal."

Oh, for the love of Pete.

He batted .625 in the
exhibition games against them.

Us, them... Against us.

Judas Priest.

Jane Ann, are you out there?

Branch Rickey.

Yes, this is him.

The commissioner of what?

Yes, put him through.

The Commissioner of Baseball.

Branch. Ha. How are you?

Good, Happy. What
can I do for you?

How'd you feel about losing
Durocher for the year, Branch?

I'm sorry, Happy, heh, I thought
you said lose Durocher for a year.

I got a notice today...

from the Catholic
Youth Organisation

vowing a ban on baseball...

if Durocher wasn't punished
for his moral looseness.

You're joking.

I wish I were, but
it's this business

of this actress out in California.

She's recently divorced
and Durocher's the cause.

They say they may even
be illegally married.

Now I know you're joking.

I'm not.

Thing of it is, Branch...

this CYO, they buy a lot of seats,
they draw a lot of water...

and I can't afford to
ruffle their feathers.

I'm sorry, am I mixing
my metaphors there?

Happy, you know very well my

organisation is
entering a tempest.

I need Durocher at the helm.

He's the only man that can
handle this much trouble.

In fact, he loves it.

You're cutting off my right hand.

I have no choice.

I'm gonna sit your
manager, Branch.

Leo Durocher is suspended
from baseball for a year.

Happy, you can't do this,
you son of a bitch.

As the search continues...

to replace Leo Durocher, I
have it on good authority...

that former Yankee
manager Joe McCarthy

has turned down the request...

of Branch Rickey to take the
reins of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

He is not the only man to say no.

And so with the 1947
season about to begin...

the Dodgers are still
without a manager.

Now we present once again Mary...

Hello?

Mr Robinson? This is Jane
Ann in Mr Rickey's office.

He needs to see you right away.

He has a contract for you to sign.

Contract for me to sign.

Okay.

Hello?

sh**t.

Clyde, you're good.
Jane Ann, get in there.

Come on.

Harold, telegram the
press. Say this:

"Today the Brooklyn
Dodgers organisation...

has purchased the
contract of Jackie

Robinson from the Montreal Royals.

He will report immediately."

I love you.

I love you.

Lookie here.

Hey, you're looking
for your locker,

aren't you, son? Follow me.

I'm Hermanski.
Welcome to Brooklyn.

Greetings.

Hey, man. Ralph Branca.

Greetings.

Greetings. Okay.

I just found out today.
The best I can do.

I'll get you straightened
out tomorrow. Okay?

It's okay.

Robinson, can we get a photo?

Robinson, turn around. Come
on, come on, Mr Robinson.

Good luck, sir.

- Get out of here.
- We don't need you.

Get out of here.

Yeah. There he is.

♪ Oh, say can you see ♪

♪ By the dawn's early light ♪

♪ What so proudly we hailed ♪

♪ At the twilight's
last gleaming? ♪

♪ Who's broad stripes
and bright stars ♪

♪ Through the perilous fight ♪

♪ O'er the ramparts we watched ♪

♪ Were so gallantly streaming? ♪

♪ And the rockets red glare ♪

♪ The bombs bursting in air ♪

♪ Gave proof through the night ♪

♪ That our flag was still there ♪

♪ Oh, say does that
star-spangled banner yet wave ♪

♪ O'er the land of the free ♪

♪ And the home of the brave ♪

Play ball.

Another opening day, Harold.

All future, no past.

It's a blank page, sir.

Hello, everybody.

It's The Ol' Redhead
speaking here from high

up in the catbird
seat at Ebbets Field.

Welcome to opening day of the
1947 Brooklyn Dodgers season.

As many of you know, the Dodgers
finished 96-60 last season.

Respectable, but still two
games behind St. Louis...

who would, of course, go on
to take the World Series.

The Dodgers looking to move up
this year and win the pennant.

Now batting for the Dodgers...

One out. Bottom of the 1st.

Headed to the plate
now for his first

big league at bat
is Dodger rookie:

Jackie Robinson.

Jackie is very definitely brunet.

The Dodgers still
without a manager...

as Leo Durocher was suspended
earlier this week.

You got this, Jackie.

It's a shirtsleeve afternoon.

Johnny Sain looking in. When he's
got that fastball working...

what I mean to say is, he can toss
a lamb chop past a hungry wolf.

Oh, and it's a hard-hit ball
down the third baseline.

Elliott gobbles it up and makes
the long toss across the diamond.

You're out.

And Robinson is out.

Come on. Ump, get some glasses.

You blew it. AL, you
blew that call.

You blew it.

It was a close play at
first. A tie usually

goes to the runner
but not this time.

So that first big league hit
will remain to be seen.

So the Giants got Mize
batting clean up.

Shame about Leo.

Inevitable, I suppose.

I asked him if she was
worth it, he said yes.

How's the retirement?

Oh, it's just fine.

You know, the roses are...

Hell of a thing when a
man's got good health...

and plenty of money...

and absolutely nothing to do.

Heh, well, I'm perfectly happy.

Is that so?

You know, when I
took the Cleveland

uniform off two years ago...

I promised the missus I'd never
put on another uniform again.

So the roses are beautiful...

and, I sleep better too.

Roses and sleep are two
wonderful things, Burt.

But sleep you can get
when you're in your

casket, and flowers look
great on top of it.

But, you don't look like
a dead man to me, Burt.

What's this about, Branch?

I need you to manage the
Dodgers for me, Burt.

- No.
- Now, wait.

We're a ship without a Captain
and there's a typhoon coming.

I'm sorry, no.

Don't you miss the game, Burt?

Working with the players?

Helping to get the
best out of the team?

Go on, look me in the eye
and tell me you don't.

Baseball's the only life for
an old pepper pot like me.

But I promised my wife, Branch.

You promised her you'd never
put on a uniform again.

You didn't promise her
you wouldn't manage.

Wear a suit and a tie
like Connie Mack.

Come on, Burt.

What do you say?

Burt, I need you.

What do you say?

All right, men. Men?

Men?

I know you've all, heard the
news. I'm your new manager.

I don't have much to say to you.

Just...

don't be afraid...

of old Burt Shotton
as your manager.

You can win the pennant
in spite of me.

There's...

There's nothing I
can do to hurt you.

So...

You Robinson?

I thought so.

So let's get out there and b*at
those... Who are we playing?

Giants, Burt.

Giants. Let's go b*at the Giants.

Now batting, number 42...

first baseman, Jackie Robinson.

You mark my words and
circle this date.

Negroes are gonna run the white
man straight out of baseball.

I'm not prejudiced.
It's physiological.

They have a longer
heel bone. Gives

them an unfair speed advantage.

Here's Robinson. Jack holds
that club down by the end...

rear foot at the
back end of the box,

slight open stance,
bent at the knees.

Jack swings.

That ball is screaming
out to left.

Hartung watching it go and...

So long. Home run.

Jackie Robinson has his first
Major League home run.

Was that because his heel
bone was longer, Bob?

"Heel bone longer."

Sorry I'm late. Class ran long.

That's okay.

It's so cold and raw out, I don't
want him getting sick at the game.

Fed him already.

All of his bits are on
the table over there.

He'll be nice and warm in here.

Thank you, Alice.

Bottom of the 1st.

The skies are leaden
now. Pretty threatening.

Eddie Stanky, safe at first.

And Jackie Robinson
stepping to the plate.

There's a slight
breeze coming in from

right field, blowing towards left.

It shouldn't give
much of an advantage

to the right-handed hitters.

Hey. n*gg*r.

Black n*gg*r.

Hey, why don't you go back to the

cotton fields where
you come from, huh?

I saw you swing your
way out of a jungle.

Chapman, the Phillies
manager, seems to

be chirping something
out to Robinson.

Chapman, a hothead during
his playing days...

has carried that reputation
right into his managing.

He's got half a mind, Jackie.

Take that monkey out now.

You all right? You
don't look all right.

n*gg*r, n*gg*r, n*gg*r.

Come on, n*gg*r, n*gg*r, n*gg*r.

Whoa.

Welcome to the big leagues, rook.


Come on, now, get up.

Can't take the heat, get
out of the kitchen, rook.

Right, Bobby, heh?

Those are nice dance
moves, Bojangles.

Leave your hat on
the ground, maybe

somebody'll throw some
money in it, huh?

Put on a little show, n*gg*r.

Do a little shuffle.

- Come on, midnight.
- He's all right, he's all right.

All right, n*gg*r.

Let's do this. You ought to
be careful in this sunshine.

Tar baby skin gonna melt.

- Whoa.
- You can't hit that?

One more. Strike him.

Why don't you get that boy
that you sent down...

to the International League, huh?

That's where Africans
play, ain't it?

Who was that?

Who'd you put out
of a job, n*gg*r?

Come on, Jackie.

Robinson, waiting for the pitch.

Swings, and it's a fly
ball out to left.

Ennis settles under
it for the out.

Sky's starting to clear now, the
sun pushing its way through.

n*gg*r can't play.

It's all right, he can take it.

God built him to last.

No score, bottom of the 4th.

Spider Jorgensen taking
a small lead off first.

Jorgensen, a rookie, spent
last season in Montreal.

Here's the pitch.

And Stanky lines a single
out to right field.

Three.

Hung low. Now there you go.

Next up for the Dodgers:

Jackie Robinson.

Hey.

Hey, Pee Wee.

Hey, what's this n*gg*r
doing for you all...

that you let him drink out of
the same water fountain as you?

Huh?

I hope you don't take
showers with him.

Because you gonna be a mess.

Hey, n*gg*r.

You like white women, huh?

Hey, which one of these Dodger
wives are you climbing on tonight?

Time.

Wait, timeout, hold on.
He's gotta take a nap.

Hey, which one is it?

I think I know.

Dixie?

Sorry. Dixie, I hate to
be the one to tell you.

I saw her walking earlier with a
little bit of a bow in her step.

It'll be fine.

It'll be fine. He looks
like a nice boy.

That right, boy?

Come on, n*gg*r, n*gg*r, n*gg*r.

Two men on for Robinson.

Here's the pitch from Leonard.

Swung on, and it's a
towering infield pop-up.

Seminick settles under it.

- Hey, is that a home run?
- Yeah.

If you're playing in
an elevator shaft.

Can of corn, and Robinson is out.

You don't belong here, n*gg*r.

You hear me? Why don't
you look in the mirror?

This a white man's game.

All right? Get that through
your thick monkey skull.

Look at me, baby.

Look at me, baby. Look at me.

No.

No.

The next white son of a bitch
that opens his mouth...

I'll smash his g*dd*mn teeth in.

You can't do that, Jack.

I'm supposed to just
let this go on?

These men have to
live with themselves.

I have to live with myself too.

Right now I'm living
a sermon out there.

You don't matter now, Jack.

You're in this thing.

You don't have the right to pull
out from the backing of people...

that believe in you, that
respect you, that need you.

Is that so?

If you fight, they won't say
that Chapman forced you to.

They'll say that
you're in over your

head. That you don't belong here.

Do you know what it's like
having somebody do this to you?

No.

No.

You do.

You're the one...

living the sermon.

In the wilderness.

Forty days.

All of it.

Only you.

There's not a g*dd*mn
thing I can do about it.

Of course there is.

You can get out there and hit.

You can get on base and score.

You can win this game for us.

We need you.

Everybody needs you.

You're medicine, Jack.

Let's go, fellas.

They're taking the field.

Now, get out there.

Be smart, fellas.

Let's go.

Who's playing first?

I'm gonna need a new bat.

Eight zeros on the
scoreboard for the

Phillies, seven for the Dodgers.

No score, with the bottom
of the 8th coming up.

All right, n*gg*r.

Hey, boy.

Porch monkey.

Hey, n*gg*r, I know
you can hear me.

You know what you're here
for, don't you, huh?

You're here to get the n*gg*r
dollars for Rickey at the gate.

You don't belong here, n*gg*r.

Sit down. You sit down
or I sit you down.

What's the problem, Stank?

You're the problem, you disgrace.
What the hell kind of man are you?

You know he can't
fight back. Why don't

you try picking on
someone who can.

I'm not gonna fight you, get
thrown out of the game.

Stanky now having a chin-wag
with his ex-team-mate Chapman.

Both men, masters of distraction.

Stanky from second and
Chapman from the dugout.

We'll have to wait and see
what the umpire does...

since he's well within his
rights to kick Stanky out.

Hey, 12. That's enough.
Back to the dugout.

You shut your mouth
or I shut it for you.

This ain't happening.

Hey, Stank? What's it like
being a n*gg*r's n*gg*r?

I don't know, Chapman. What's it

like to be a redneck
piece of sh*t?

Robinson up.

Here's the pitch.

And Jack pokes a soft
hit past second.

Sorry.

Not much of a hit to speak of,
but Jackie is standing on first.

Go, Jackie.

Centre fielder, number
7, Pete Reiser.

Mr Pete Reiser steps up
into the batter's box.

Robinson with another
big lead off first.

He's just as restless as
a cat with a hot foot.

Back.

- Whoa.
- Safe.

The Flatbush faithful voicing
their approval of Jack...

as this type of scrappy play...

is exactly what they've grown to
expect of their beloved Bums.

Play now.

Work it.

Steal it, sweetheart. Take it.

- Strike three, you're out.
- He's going.

- Down.
- Safe.

The Dodgers, with an
excellent chance...

as Robinson has willed himself
into scoring position.

Thattaboy.

Young Gene Hermanski steps to
the plate, playing right today.

Come on.

Hermanski cracks a
single to left...

and Robinson is able to trot
home for the first run...

that may also be the decider.

All right.

- Jackie.
- All right.

Hey, Robinson.

Thanks.

For what?

You're on my team. What the
hell am I supposed to do?

Nice hit.

All this fuss over a rookie.

What, he's got 10, 12 at bats.

You all gonna spoil him.

Chapman, do you think
it cost you the game?

No. I think that a single out to
the left field cost us the game.

You think you were a
little hard on Robinson?

No. Look, we treat him the same
way we treat Hank Greenberg...

except we call him a
kike instead of a co*n.

Whenever we play exhibitions
with the Yankees...

we call Joe DiMaggio "The Wop."

All right? They laugh about it.

And it's forgotten
when the game's over.

I don't care if they like me.

I didn't come here
to make friends.

I don't even care if they
respect me. I know who I am.

Got enough respect for myself.

But I do not want them to b*at me.

They're never gonna b*at you.

They came close today.

I'm going in that Phillies
dugout tomorrow...

and I'm gonna wring
Ben Chapman's neck.

Did I say something funny?

When I first told you
about Robinson, Harold...

you were against it.

Now, all of the sudden
you're worried about him.

Wonder how that happened.

Why, any decent-minded
person would...

Sympathy, Harold.

It's a Greek word. It
means "to suffer."

"I sympathise with you"
means "I suffer with you."

That Philadelphia manager is...

He's doing me a service.

- A service?
- Yes.

He's creating sympathy
on Jackie's behalf.

"Philadelphia" is Greek.

Means "brotherly love."

Bob Bragan to see you, Mr Rickey.

What in Satan's fire does he want?

All right, send him in.

What do you want, Bragan?

Mr Rickey, I...

- I would like...
- What do you want?

I'd like to not be traded, sir.

If it's not too late.

What about Robinson?

The world's changing.

I guess I can live
with the change.

I mean, I can't believe it. I
speak my mind, and they trade me.

This ain't the America I know.

Home of the free, land of
the brave? You hear me?

Where they sending you, Hig?

Pittsburgh.

For cash and some Italian
outfielder named Gionfriddo.

Pittsburgh. I mean...

Good luck, boys.
You gonna need it.

Pittsburgh.

Branch, it's Herb.

Herb. What can I do for you?

Branch, how long have
we known each other?

Oh, 20 years, maybe more.

That's right. Been over
some solid road together.

So, urn, you can
trust me when I tell

you Brooklyn's due
here tomorrow...

but you cannot bring
that n*gg*r down here...

with the rest of your team.

Why's that, Herb?

His name is Jackie
Robinson, by the way.

Yeah, Branch, I understand
he's got a name...

but we're just not ready for that

sort of thing here
in Philadelphia.

We're not gonna be
able to take the field

against your team if
that boy's in uniform.

Well, what you do with your
team is your decision, Herb.

But my team's gonna be in
Philadelphia tomorrow...

with Robinson.

And if we have to claim the
game as a forfeit, so be it.

That's 9-0...

in case you forgot.

You've had a hell of a hair across

your ass over this
for a long time.

I'd like to know what it
is you're trying to prove.

You think God likes
baseball, Herb?

What? What the hell is
that supposed to mean?

It means someday you're
gonna meet God...

and when he inquires as why
you didn't take the field...

against Robinson
in Philadelphia...

and you answer that it's
because he was a n*gro...

it may not be a sufficient reply.

Okay, guys, we got
20 minutes to check

in and get to Shibe, so chop-chop.

Hey.

Hey. Out.

And get that bus out of here.

Oh, no, no, no, we have
reservations. We're the Dodgers.

No, your team is not
welcome here. Not

while you have ball
club Negroes with you.

You just mean that Robinson
can't stay, right?

No, I mean your entire
team has been refused.

We've been staying
here for 10 years.

And you can stay
away that long too.

Hold on. Now, wait, we
should talk about this.

Who put you up to this?
Is it the Phillies?

They're not gonna let
us stay here, fellas.

They don't want us here.

Yeah, well maybe 42's got enough
friends in town we can bunk up.

It's the rule we're gonna go with.

We've got reservations.

- Why is that?
- That is the rule.

What's that supposed to mean?

It's not supposed to mean a thing.

When you can't get in hotels, you
got people's houses you stay at.

Ain't that right?

What?

What do you want from me, Walker?

An apology.

You want an apology? For what?

For places like this?

No. For turning this season
into a damn sideshow.

- Hey, fellas.
- I'm a ballplayer, all right?

- I'm here to play ball.
- So am I.

I'm here to win.

We want to win. We
on the same page?

Well, how we supposed to
win sleeping on a bus?

Maybe it'll do you some good the
way you been swinging the bat.

- Hey, you watch your mouth.
- Hey, you watch your hand.

Don't you ever talk to
me like that again.

Watch your hand.

You hear me? Watch yourself.

You spit on me now?

If I spit on you, it'd
be an improvement.

That's it. You go home, all right?

All right, that's enough.

Hey, hey. Get used to it,
fellas. This how it's gonna be.

We show up, the circus is in town.

I'm not going anywhere.

I'm right here.

"There is a great
lynch mob among us.

They go unhooded and
work without a rope."

That's you, not me.

"We must remember that all
this country's enemies...

are not beyond the frontiers
of our homeland."

A Jew probably wrote that.

I don't care who wrote it.
It's in the damn papers.

This is not good, Ben.

Makes the entire Phillies
organisation look r*cist.

You gotta do something about it.

Me? Look, I'm defending baseball.

It's time for you to step
up and defend the Phillies.

This started on the
field, it's gonna end on

the field, and we're
done talking about it.

All right.

- Hey, fellas.
- Hey.

Excuse me. Hi. Jackie.

Wendell...

A request came in.

Ben Chapman, he's the, manager
for the Phillies. You knew that.

He'd like his photo
taken with you.

You been drinking, Harold?

No. No. I wish.

No, Mr Rickey, he thinks
it's a good idea.

He says it's gonna be in every
sports page across the country.

An example that even the most
hardened man can change.

Chapman hasn't changed. He's
just trying to save face.

Mr Rickey says it doesn't
matter if he's changed.

As long as it looks
like he's changed.

Jackie, you've seen the
questions come in slow.

Now, just see this photo
come in even slower.

Chapman said he'd
come down here. Or,

he could meet you in the runway.

No.

On the field.

Where everyone can see.

Did World w*r Ill break out?
Look at all of you all.

They even dug you up, Baum.
This must be important.

Listen, I want to say something...

Jackie's been accepted
into baseball...

and the Philadelphia organisation
wish him all the luck that we can.

I just hope that our trial of
fire has helped him along.

How about a picture? You shake
hands. Bury the hatchet.

You wanna bury the hatchet?

Sure.

We'll use a bat.

That way we don't
have to touch skin.

- All right.
- Come on, fellas.

- All right, do it.
- That's good. Right here.

One more. This way, Ben.

It's Ostermueller on the mound.

Ostermueller, deliberate.

What I mean to say
is, he's one of the

slowest working
pitchers in the game.

Here's the windup. And...

Oh, my. He hit Jackie
Robinson right

in the head. And Jackie is down.

What are you doing out
there, Ostermueller?

Hey.

Ostermueller, you creep. You gotta
bat too. Don't you forget it.

Hey, I'm ready, you wop bastard.

Oh, yeah? "Wop bastard"? It's
coming between your eyes.

- I'm gonna come like a kamikaze.
- He doesn't belong here.

Get off. Knock it off.

I'll send you back to
Schmeling and Goering...

and the rest of your
dead Kraut buddies.

You want some, Piner?

He doesn't belong here.

They're just ignorant.

If they knew you, they
would be ashamed.

What can I do for you, Pee Wee?

Well, Mr Rickey, it's like this.

The series in
Cincinnati next week?

Yes. Important road trip.

We're only three
games out of first.

Yes, sir.

Now, you know I'm from Kentucky.

Then Cincinnati will nearly
be a home game for you.

Well...

I got this letter.

Apparently, some people aren't too

happy about me playing
with Robinson.

Huh?

"n*gg*r lover.

Watch yourself.

We'll get you, carpetbagger."

Pretty typical stuff.

Well, it's not typical to me, sir.

How many of those letters
have you gotten, Pee Wee?

Just the one. Ain't that enough?

What are those?

Well, I'll tell you
what they aren't.

They aren't letters from the
Jackie Robinson fan club.

"Get out of baseball or
your baby boy will die."

"Quit baseball or
your n*gg*r wife..."

"Get out of the
game or be k*lled."

Does Jackie know?

Well, of course he does.

And the FBI.

They're taking a thr*at in
Cincinnati pretty seriously.

So excuse me if I
don't get too upset

about you getting
called a carpetbagger.

You should be proud.

Well, I'd just like to play
ball, sir. That's all.

Oh, I understand.

I bet Jackie just
wants to play ball.

I bet he wishes he wasn't leading
the League in hit by pitch.

I bet he wishes people
didn't want to k*ll him.

The world's not so
simple any more.

Guess it never was.

We just...

Baseball ignored it, now we can't.

Yes, sir.

No hits, no runs for the Dodgers.
The Reds are coming to bat.

How many times do you think
Pee Wee's gonna score?

Well, I don't know, son.

I remember when I was
a kid, I saw Honus

Wagner play, scored
three times that day.

- We'll just have to wait and see.
- Wow, that would be great.

We don't want you here.

Hey. Hey, n*gg*r boy.

Get the hell out of Cincinnati.

We don't want you here.

Go back to Brooklyn.

You the batboy, sambo?

Hey, n*gg*r. I'm talking to you.

Get the hell out of Cincinnati.
We don't want you here, boy.

n*gg*r.

We don't want you here.

Cincinnati fans expressing their

displeasure as the
Dodgers take the field.

Jackie Robinson at first. "The
Brat" Eddie Stanky at second.

Spider Jorgensen at third. And the
Captain, Pee Wee Reese, at short.

Fans, ask any man and
they'll tell you,

the Gillette Superspeed
razor is a honey.

Maybe the sweetest shaving
razor you'll ever use.

Look sharp, feel sharp, be sharp.

We don't want no n*gg*r*s here.

They can say all they want.
We're just here to play ball.

Get him off the field.

It's just a bunch of crackpots
still fighting the Civil w*r.

Well, we'd have won
that son of a g*n

if the cornstalks
would have held out.

We just ran out of amm*nit*on.

Better luck next time, Pee Wee.

Ain't gonna be a
next time, Jackie.

Hey, Reese. Carpetbagger.

All we got's right here. Right
now. You know what I mean?

Thank you, Jackie.

What are you thanking me for?

I got family up there
from Louisville.

I need them to know.

I need them to know who I am.

Hey, number 1.

You playing ball or socialising?

Playing ball, ump.

- Play ball.
- Don't let them get to you.

Playing ball.

Maybe tomorrow we'll all wear 42.
That way they won't tell us apart.

Come on, Jackie.

Let me ask you something, Jackie.

How come you never shower
until everybody else is done?

What are you, shy?

I don't want to make
anyone feel uncomfortable.

We're a team. On a hot streak.

Come on, half those wins
were on account of you.

You're the bravest guy I ever saw.

You're leading us, you're
afraid to take a shower? Heh.

Come on, take a shower
with me, Jackie.

I didn't mean it like...

That came out wrong. I was not
saying just take a shower with me.

I was saying, why don't we
all go and take a shower.

- Like, why?
- Heh.

As a team, why don't
we shower together.

- Heh. Branca?
- Yeah.

- Stop.
- Yeah.

I'm stopping.

We're in the last of a four-game
series with the Cardinals.

These two teams are in
a dogfight for first.

Top of the 11th now,
all tied up at 2.

For those of you just tuning
in, how did we get here?

Well, it's been double trouble...

as Robinson knocked in Stanky
with a double in the 3rd.

sh**t two. sh**t two.

And Dixie Walker did the same
with a double in the 8th.

Second base. Second base.

But it wasn't enough...

as the Cardinals tied it up with
two of their own in the 9th.

This game is crucial
to the Red Birds.

They are five games out...

with the Dodgers not
having relinquished

first place since June 30th.

They call him "Country."

Slaughter's hitless in
four trips. "Fireman"

Casey in his second
inning of relief.

This game is just as tight as a
new pair of shoes on a rainy day.

Casey goes into his windup.

Slaughter hits a hard
ground ball right at

Reese, who fires it
over to Jack at first.

Oh, my.

Robinson is down.
Slaughter spiked him

high up on the leg and he is down.

g*dd*mn it. You knew what you
were doing. You spiked my guy.

Get up, Jackie.

Get him up, boys, get him up.

Stay off it. Team doc will be out.

Hugh, next guy up,
you hit him right

in the head. You clean his clock.

No. Get me up.

No, lay down, man. You're staying.

No. Get me up.

Easy, kid.

Just get him out.

Just get him out.

Understand?

Game's too important.

Just get him out.

Go play ball.

- You a tough man, Jackie.
- Let's get him out.

Jackie, what are saying?
He spiked you on purpose?

You saw the play.

My foot was on the inside of the

bag, he was out, but
he kept coming.

It was on purpose?

Slaughter said it was an accident.

What are you asking me for then?

Are you calling Slaughter a liar?

Is he a liar?

Am I calling him a liar?
What are you gonna write?

Get out of here. Get out.

Come on, Rickey, let
him finish the story.

Go on, let me talk
to my first baseman.

- Is he a liar, Jackie?
- Go.

All right, all right.

Getting stitched up,
for Pete's sake.

Just trying to do our job, Rickey.

- Looks good, Babe.
- Thank you, sir.

Sticking up for himself is
something you'd expect of any man.

Some find it galling in a n*gro.

You know what I saw this morning?

I was passing a sandlot, little
white boy was up at bat.

You know what he was doing?

Sitting on a fastball?

He was pretending he was you.

Rubbing dirt on his hands.

Swinging with his arms
outstretched, like you do.

Little white boy pretending
he is a black man.

Why'd you do this, Mr Rickey?

We had a victory over
fascism in Germany.

It's time we had a victory
over racism at home.

No.

Why?

Why'd you do it?

Come on.

Tell me.

I love this game.

I love baseball.

Given my whole life to it.

Forty-odd years ago,
I was a player-coach

at Ohio Wesleyan University.

We had a n*gro catcher.
Best hitter on the team.

Charlie Thomas. Fine young man.

I saw him laid low,
broken, because

of the colour of his skin.

And I didn't do enough to help.

Told myself I did, but I didn't.

There was something unfair at
the heart of the game I loved.

And I ignored it.

But a time came...

when I could no longer do that.

You...

You let me love baseball again.

Thank you.

Last long road trip of the year.

And two long faces, huh?

Try not to lunge at the plate.

You serious?

That's why they're throwing
the fastballs inside.

Fight those inside
fastballs off...

sooner or later they won't be
able to help but throw a curve.

And what'll happen then, coach?

Is that right?

Well, you know, if we win
enough of these next games...

we bring home the pennant.

You bring yourself home.

That'll be plenty.

You're in my heart.

Since the 4th of
July, the Brooklyn

Dodgers have gone
on a hot streak...

holding off all challengers.

During that time and
during this season...

I have watched Jackie
Robinson submerge himself...

to serve something greater.

And I don't mean the Brooklyn

Dodgers, though he's
doing that too.

The man flat-out has guts.

A stand-up force of nature, he's

complicated everything
but himself.

He's changing the world and
refusing to let it change him.

But baseball isn't tennis.

It takes a team.

Joining together was a start.

Staying together, a
big step forward.

But working together
is how you win.

Out.

Jackie, you son of a
g*n, I could kiss you.

Nice catch.

Yours or mine? Heh.

Down the stretch on the last
long road trip of the year...

Jackie Robinson and the Brooklyn
Dodgers are doing exactly that.

They're holding off the Cardinals
and streaking towards the pennant.

Boss, we did it.

We did it, we swept Cincinnati.

Great, Harold.

One more win could do it.

Who's pitching tomorrow
for the Pirates?

Ostermueller.

Fritz Ostermueller on the mound.

He's 12-8 on the season.

A big game today in Pittsburgh.

A win and the Dodgers will have

clinched the National
League pennant...

Yankees having already clinched
in the American League.

There's bad blood here...

as Ostermueller beaned Robinson in
the head earlier in the season...

prompting quite a
rhubarb at the time.

Teams have gone their
separate ways since...

with Ostermueller left standing
in the Dodgers' way...

as they chase the pennant
that eluded them last year.

Come on, Jackie, let's go.

Here comes the pitch.

And Robinson takes
outside. Ball one.

Come on, Fritz,
let's get this boy.

You don't belong here.

And you never will.

Robinson crowding the plate.

Jack hasn't backed down
to a pitcher all season.

There you go, Jackie.

You got nothing for
him, Ostermueller.

But he's got something for you.

Ostermueller winds and throws.

Low and away, ball two.

Fritz seems to be
pitching around Jackie...

or as they say in the trade,
trying to get him to chase.

Robinson's having a
fine rookie standard...

batting .301 with 31
doubles and 10 home runs.

He has stolen 27 bases
this season and

has yet to be thrown
out attempting.

Needless to say, Ostermueller
being careful with him.

It's 3-0 now.

Robinson patient, waiting for
something he can swing on.

Give me something.

Give me something I can hit.

You want it?

What are you afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

Ostermueller looking
in for the sign.

Be careful what you ask for, boy.

And here comes the pitch.

Oh, and that's a deep
fly ball to left.

Kiner on his horse, I don't
think he'll get there.

Back, back, back, and...

Oh, ho, ho, doctor.

Robinson got his pitch.

It's a home run.

And barring a miracle comeback...

the Dodgers are going
to the World Series.

Yes.

He did it, he did it.

Pittsburgh.

Yes.

Way to go, Jackie.

Jack in his home run trot now, and
the home crowd here at Forbes...

recognising something
special when they see it.

All the same, I can
practically hear the roar...

from the heart of Flatbush
back in Brooklyn.

Jackie, yeah, yeah.

Robinson rounds third...

headed for home...

sweet home.
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