For The Record, Part 2
This is the second of 2 articles pondering the significance of Barry Bonds breaking the all-time home run record.
A most amazing thing happened after Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's home run record.
Aaron himself appeared on video to congratulate Bonds for the achievement.
Aaron, who had steadfastly refused to say anything positive or negative about Bonds as the latter approached the Holy Grail of baseball records, recorded nothing less than an eloquent and dignified congratulatory speech that really put the capper on the occasion.
Never mind that Aaron never should have had to go through this indignity in the first place.
This act by Aaron highlights his character and his generation.
You see, Aaron came up in an era in which black folks didn't air each other's dirty laundry in public, because that just ain't what people did.
Aaron came up in an era in which black folks believed that decent character would eventually win out, despite the evils being perpetrated against them. It didn't matter if another black man was less than perfect. In that era, all black men were united against a common foe: white society.
We cannot make too little of this. Laws existed that restricted a black man's freedoms, even his pleasures. Laws existed that restricted a black man's movements and ability to earn. And those were the ones that were on the books.
Other laws existed regarding such improprieties like a black man cutting his eyes at a white woman, or offering impertinence to a white person, that were paid for in blood after dark.
As a joke of the era went, one black man would ask another, "How you doin'?"
The other would reply, "White folks still in the lead..."
At which both would laugh, or grunt, or not in sympathy.
One did not throw another black man under the bus in Aaron's era, not when there was a common enemy more than willing to throw both the accused and the accuser under the bus together.
So Aaron did what he'd grown up doing: he forgave another man.
When Aaron endured death threats and insults of the vilest kind, when FBI protection had to be afforded to his daughter, when he had to be escorted by an armed policeman as he approached Babe Ruth's mark, he forgave.
He could have spoken out like so many black athletes of that time did...but they were younger, weren't they? They weren't riding buses in the Jim Crow South of the 1950s. Those athletes were children in the 60s when Malcolm X was assassinated; to them, the battle had always been fought that way. For Aaron, for the generation prior to that, the battle had been won by being the better man.
That bears repeating: the battle had been won by being the better man.
Aaron has publicly and privately spoken about carrying on the example that Jackie Robinson set, professionally and personally.
When the obviously chemically-enhanced Barry Bonds broke his record, he could have reviled, just as Robinson could have reviled when the Phillies gave him the kind of insults that might have made a modern hood rat "catch a case."
Instead, as he'd done throughout his career, throughout his life, Henry Aaron chose to take the higher road.
In doing so, he forever provided a poignant reminder of the gulf of character that exists between himself and the eternally-tainted Bonds.
And, quoting the very first words out of his mouth when he finally broke Babe Ruth's record,
"Thank God it's over."
A most amazing thing happened after Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's home run record.
Aaron himself appeared on video to congratulate Bonds for the achievement.
Aaron, who had steadfastly refused to say anything positive or negative about Bonds as the latter approached the Holy Grail of baseball records, recorded nothing less than an eloquent and dignified congratulatory speech that really put the capper on the occasion.
Never mind that Aaron never should have had to go through this indignity in the first place.
This act by Aaron highlights his character and his generation.
You see, Aaron came up in an era in which black folks didn't air each other's dirty laundry in public, because that just ain't what people did.
Aaron came up in an era in which black folks believed that decent character would eventually win out, despite the evils being perpetrated against them. It didn't matter if another black man was less than perfect. In that era, all black men were united against a common foe: white society.
We cannot make too little of this. Laws existed that restricted a black man's freedoms, even his pleasures. Laws existed that restricted a black man's movements and ability to earn. And those were the ones that were on the books.
Other laws existed regarding such improprieties like a black man cutting his eyes at a white woman, or offering impertinence to a white person, that were paid for in blood after dark.
As a joke of the era went, one black man would ask another, "How you doin'?"
The other would reply, "White folks still in the lead..."
At which both would laugh, or grunt, or not in sympathy.
One did not throw another black man under the bus in Aaron's era, not when there was a common enemy more than willing to throw both the accused and the accuser under the bus together.
So Aaron did what he'd grown up doing: he forgave another man.
When Aaron endured death threats and insults of the vilest kind, when FBI protection had to be afforded to his daughter, when he had to be escorted by an armed policeman as he approached Babe Ruth's mark, he forgave.
He could have spoken out like so many black athletes of that time did...but they were younger, weren't they? They weren't riding buses in the Jim Crow South of the 1950s. Those athletes were children in the 60s when Malcolm X was assassinated; to them, the battle had always been fought that way. For Aaron, for the generation prior to that, the battle had been won by being the better man.
That bears repeating: the battle had been won by being the better man.
Aaron has publicly and privately spoken about carrying on the example that Jackie Robinson set, professionally and personally.
When the obviously chemically-enhanced Barry Bonds broke his record, he could have reviled, just as Robinson could have reviled when the Phillies gave him the kind of insults that might have made a modern hood rat "catch a case."
Instead, as he'd done throughout his career, throughout his life, Henry Aaron chose to take the higher road.
In doing so, he forever provided a poignant reminder of the gulf of character that exists between himself and the eternally-tainted Bonds.
And, quoting the very first words out of his mouth when he finally broke Babe Ruth's record,
"Thank God it's over."
Labels: Barry Bonds, Hank Aaron, MLB, Steroids
posted by van walker | 10:58 AM
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