He kept stealing a base at every opportunity he could. When she was forced to explain her sudden love by stealing bases and moving aggressively on every court, she left a name: Fireplace Robinson Before that baseball season, my daughter, who turns 13 this summer, had seen the movie “42” at home, with parental protection on full alert. We wondered if it was appropriate for her age, but we also knew that Robinson’s story was too important to miss the opportunity to share it through a medium that speaks so well to this generation of fans: movie entertainment. The legacy of No. 42 continues 75 years after Robinson made his big league debut for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Glanville: The story of No. 42 still resonates after 75 years “ Schoenfield: Why Robinson was even better than you think “ Rogers: How MLB’s unique black dual game combination transmits Robinson’s legacy » At this point, our four children – a son and three daughters – already had a preliminary and personal understanding of some of the racial dynamics in America: that sometimes the weight and strength of the race overwhelms you, no matter what how prepared do you think you can be. But we also prepared them to portray the plight of Philadelphia Phillies manager Ben Chapman, as well as how spring training in Florida would immortalize Robinson and his family under constant threat. The film was well-received, as evidenced by my daughter’s imitation of the diamond. All my kids would become fans of Jackie Robinson, a baseball player right away, but it was just as important for my wife and me to tell them the story of the complete Jackie Robinson. The figure he testified in court, marched in the streets, opened a bank. Jackie Robinson wanted equality to mean an open door for anyone to play baseball – or do anything else. Robinson spent the rest of his life weaving his influence into other areas of American life. He had no intention of stopping progress at the grassroots level, and his post-baseball efforts extended his career to the Hall of Fame, striking the conscience of the board, the political elite and the institutions of power, including the MLB. . When he retired, the line he crossed was not a finish line, but a start line. His incorporation into baseball was an early domino in the gains of civil rights that would come later, and even without a bat in his hand, he was also part of it. This more complete picture of Robinson helps to frame how important he remains 75 years after joining Major League Baseball: He was the kind of change that resonates and endures. Doug Glanville with Rachel Robinson in Cuba in 2016. Doug Glanville LIKE MY CHILDREN, I was introduced to Jackie Robinson’s story when I was growing up in New Jersey. His story has always been bigger than life for me, as it has been for so many kids, young baseball players and in Black America. Jackie and his family are members of the family and yet somehow they feel close to all the turns. But I was lucky enough to get even closer through the opportunity that Jackie helped me with – the opportunity to play big league baseball. I first met his widow, Rachel, just before the MLB draft of 1991. As a 20-year-old, seeing her took my breath away. When I was playing for the Phillies in 1998, Jackie’s daughter, Sharon Robinson, embarked on a tour inspired by their family principles. It was called “Breaking Barriers” and one of the beginnings was education, so the great colleagues would come with Sharon to the classrooms to talk about Jackie’s story (the program still exists today). I was chosen to meet her in Philadelphia, the city where I went to college and where I played, to meet students. The opportunity was surreal – it took me a while to figure out what it meant to be Jackie Robinson’s representative, to know that his daughter would share my story with the next generation … to know that I had become part of the story . I have done extensive media work sharing the Robinsons story over the past two decades, including an interview with Rachel in Cuba in 2016, and it has always been a bit of a disappointment, because I’m worried about how Jackie Robinson’s legacy will last. It’s one of the greatest American stories of all time, but like any story, over time, it can fade. A big step in maintaining it is to share it with children young enough to be his great-grandchildren. I’ve seen the effect this has on first hand, after talking to players on the UCLA baseball team, a team that Jackie once played in his college days as a four-a-side athlete. To prepare for the match between Stanford and UCLA on Jackie Robinson’s day today, I interviewed two sons of my former teammate Eric Caros. I learned how much they knew about Jackie and how much their coach, John Savage, had promised to tell his story. Then came the day my personal relationship with Robinson extended to my own family. After meeting Sharon on that tour two decades ago, it became a more grounded friendship. A few years ago, we were both playing phone signs and he happened to call when my eldest daughter was in the car. So they had a conversation. It was a thrilling experience for me – listening to them talk about fitness and their childhood, two daughters of great athletes sharing notes. I just got out of the middle. At that moment, for my daughter, Jackie Robinson went from family history. I am playing 2:47 Priest Jesse Jackson explains how Jackie Robinson inspired him by challenging obstacles in baseball and beyond. The lasting parts of Robinson’s story are universal examples of what we all seek from the world: relevance, respect, inclusion, justice. Robinson did it with grace, fire, great talent and a message that sought equality for all. It helps that he could do that through sports – as Kyle Karros said during my interview with the UCLA dugout. “It’s not like he was just a great athlete, as he was,” Karos told me. try to do, to leave a positive lasting impact on the world we came to “. Baseball gave Robinson a microphone and used it to confront and change the world, not just to enhance his personal success on the court. This is a wonderful lesson for every generation. Sharon has written several books about her family and her father’s legacy, one of which is a memoir of the year she turned 13 (“Child of the Dream: A Memoir of 1963”) and another (“Stealing Home: An Intimate Family Portrait by Jackie Robinson’s Daughter “) about their life at home during her father’s” retirement “- which was in fact anything but. (As Jackie would write in a letter to Dwight Eisenhower: “I have become more aggressive since I stopped playing.”) They faced the same challenges that every family would face with a father who was constantly on the road. many directions. 2 About An entire nation – including Martin Luther King Jr. and a long list of US presidents – was looking at her father. But he would make daddy-daughter days in New York. And he would take the time to check the ice in their pond to see if it was icy enough to skate. About this, Sharon would write one of the most beautiful excerpts I have ever read, in “Stealing Home”: It was Dad’s official job to test the ice on the lake to determine his safety for skating. We children lined up along the shoreline and shouted words of encouragement as Dad walked on the snow-covered ice. Before placing one large foot in front of the other, he hit the ice with his broomstick. After what seemed like forever, Dad would reach the deepest part of the lake, give one last blow with his stick, then turn to us and shout, “Go get your skates!” I thought Dad was very brave. Now I think about it even more. He was as brave then as he was when he entered baseball, an achievement that took me years to appreciate. It was only gradually that I realized what it meant for him to break the color line of baseball, the courage it took to get into uncharted and dangerous waters. He had to feel his way on an unknown path like a blind man, pressing for signs. This was Jackie Robinson. And that was my dad – big, heavy, out there alone on the lake, paving his way so the ice would be safe for us. And he did not know how to swim. It was 75 years ago when Robinson played his first game with the Brooklyn Dodgers, breaking a color barrier for the first time in a major professional sport. It was also a global event, which helped to start the integration of a nation and inspire all who understand the pain of trying to cross a line of color. This line looked more like a wall covered with barbed wire, but Robinson climbed it anyway. Try the ice for all of us, through his fearlessness, through moments of doubt, love, frustration – the path to social change is never linear. He did all this not only for his children, but for the children of his dreams. He also left messengers and parents, mentors and coaches, who know that with all his achievements, at his core he always tried to be a better father, because this love always endures. My daughter would steal more than 30 bases that Little League season – by my calculations as an admittedly biased third base coach. He jumped from base to base, often taking another on a pass or on a wild field. Realizing that only a few children could hit consistently, he stopped rocking the bat at all, deciding it was the best opportunity to get to the base and show what he could do. Finish the season as a girl with two results: walk or go out …