Oh, be a cyber-fly crying over the latest text chain between Mookie Betts and Jackie Bradley Jr.
The two outfielders were lockermates at Fenway Park for parts of six seasons. Bradley named Betts by his first name Marcus. Betts never denied a chance to fly over Bradley’s skill. At times, they were the only African-Americans on the roster.
As a result, they were forced to commit many local and national sins. Racist epithets thrown to Orioles center fielder Adam Jones? Talk to Jackie and Mookie. Colin Kaepernick blackballs for kneeling in silent protest? Talk to Jackie and Mookie. Controversy over White House visit? Talk to Jackie and Mookie.
By the time George Floyd protested and the Black Lives Matter movement finally forced a long overdue race in America, Betts was gone, sent to the Dodgers. That left Bradley alone to answer, and he treated the problem with his characteristic grace.
“It all comes down to people just wanting that change,” Bradley said last month. “You can not force it on anyone. We need to show a lot more love in this country.”
It should come as no surprise that with the nation being revived by a police shooting party – this time Jacob Blake is shot seven times in the back for his children in Wisconsin – Bradley finds himself in front and center. But just like the cavalryman who only charged against enemy lines to see only his soldiers scattered in retreat, Bradley stood alone again on Wednesday.
The Red Sox did not hold a team meeting about canceling their game against the Blue Jays in Buffalo as a form of protest. They did not discuss following the leadership of the NBA, who saw their entire slate of playoff games clean, or even the leadership of the Celtics, who had a day earlier made it clear that they did not know what they were going to be like. able to take the floor for Thursday’s Game 1 against the Raptors.
Instead, Bradley spoke with manager Ron Roenicke and backup catcher Kevin Plawecki. We only know this because a local reporter criticized the team for not consulting him, and Bradley corrected the record for noting the two who did – which was effectively even more damning. Just the manager and the second-string catcher. No other teammates. No members of the front office? No one owned?
Three thousand miles away, a very different scene unfolded. When the Dodgers prepared for batting practice in San Francisco before playing the Giants, Betts told his teammates he would not play. Instead of leaving him on an island, they gathered around him – Black, White and Latino – and reached a decision.
If Mookie is not playing, neither of us is.
Betts, unjustly left to shoulder these charges with only a handful of minority teammates in Boston, sounded legitimate moves.
“I was already tight with everyone in the clubhouse, but now that I know everyone has my back even more than I already thought, it means a lot,” he told reporters. “I will always remember this day. I will always remember that this team just has my back.”
Look at every quote ever bettted by Betts over his six years in Boston, and you will find nothing nearby. It always felt like he was holding back his complete disgust over the Jones incident, and holding a silent seed instead of speaking an uncomfortable truth.
The team’s White House visit was predictably divided across racial lines, with each White player attending and virtually all Blacks and Latinos staying at home. Allies were hard to reach, the victims of racial injustice were forced to constantly answer for the crimes of the perpetrators.
And in that sense, the Red Sox continue to fail, a contrast made stronger by the scene in California, where Betts addressed the media along with half-Japanese manager Dave Roberts, White starter Clayton Kershaw, and Curacao native Kenley Jansen.
“As a white player on this team, is it how we can show support?” Kershaw told reporters. “What’s something tangible we can do to help our black brothers in this team? Once Mookie said he would not play, that really started our conversation as a team of what we can do to support that. We feel the best. one thing to do is to support them in not playing. “
The lack of equally focal support for Bradley is just gall, but not remotely surprising. He was asked if it is difficult to answer again and again this time.
“I have support,” Bradley countered. “It’s not hard for me to tackle it. I’m the only Black person on this team that I feel like my responsibility to tackle it in certain situations, just so people can see what I’m feeling and things. what I’m thinking about. I can take it over. “
He would not have to bear that burden alone. It’s hard to imagine Betts regretting leaving Boston and signing long-term in LA because the Dodgers showed the strength of a teammate’s back. The Red Sox? They can say whatever they want, but they are more comfortable to turn around.
