Red Sox Rundown

Even if you haven’t studied much Red Sox history, the name of Tom Yawkey is undoubtedly familiar to you. He only owned the franchise for 44 years, longer than anyone else in baseball history. In the 1930s, he saved the club from itself, pouring money into the team in an era when Red Sox baseball was an afterthought in Boston. The team stunk, the ownership stunk more, and the fans simply didn’t care.

But after Tom Yawkey singlehandedly saved the Red Sox from their downward trajectory, he nearly sent the team back to the depths from which he had brought it, though for wholly separate reasons.

Let’s look at the quick, ugly facts.

The Red Sox were the last major league baseball team to have an African American player on their roster.

It’s rumored that Tom Yawkey himself was opposed to integrating the MLB, and may have worked behind the scenes to prevent integration.

During a sham “tryout” for black players, including the legendary Jackie Robinson, a person, rumored - but not confirmed - to be Tom Yawkey, shouted “Get those (expletive) off the field!”

Even if that was not Yawkey’s remark, the fact is that he allowed the Red Sox to gain the reputation of being the most racist franchise in major league baseball. The Red Sox did not rid themselves of the reputation until the Dan Duquette era. Dan Duquette began his tenure as Red Sox GM in 1994. Jackie Robinson played his first game for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. The Red Sox were viewed as a racist organization for nearly fifty years. That thought alone should make any good Sox fan a little sick.

I wasn’t going to write this article. I wasn’t. I had the idea last week, but scrapped the idea, not wanting to risk being sensationalistic, a trait which I despise in journalism and particularly in sportswriters.

But then I read Tony Massarotti’s article on the, well, lack of excitement over the Red Sox this spring. Ticket sales are down and a sense of monotony prevails. While most who commented on Mazz’s article fault the economy for the lackluster ticket sales thus far this spring, the ninth comment stood out to me:

“This is a backlash against the obvious racist approach to on-field personnel by the Red Sox. Where are the African-American players?”

While I truly don’t believe John Henry and company are racists, a quick look at the roster gives a little credence to the remark: If Jed Lowrie wins the shortstop job, seven out of nine starting Red Sox will be Caucasian come Opening Day. The exceptions? Jacoby Ellsbury, a Navajo, and David Ortiz, who hails from the Dominican. Starting pitching? Out of seven possible starting pitchers, all but Dice-K are white. Relievers? A bit more multicultural, with Hideki Okajima, Javier Lopez, and others in the mix. But even most of our top-level prospects like Lars Anderson and Michael Bowden are of the Caucasian variety.

But African-American players?

Zero.

I personally subscribe this partially to my observation that black athletes seem to be drawn more to football and basketball than baseball. But why is this exactly? It is bad? Is it neutral, just the way things are? Did that just happen to be the way things turned out for the Red Sox?

I have no idea. I’m not going to pretend to have some kind of insider knowledge into the minds of Larry Lucchino, John Henry, Tom Werner, and Theo Epstein. I’m not going to theorize, but I’ll make one declaration: We can see the past, and it ain’t pretty. But it’s essential that the Red Sox, including the fans as well as the brass, keep the team’s stained history in mind. We’ve come a long way, and I’d like to keep it that way.