#black baseball

[baseballsisco]

Here's a more in depth article on Mudcat Grant who I post about in my most MLB Immaculate Grid. Give it a read.

[baseballisabunchofweirdmen]

Willie "The Devil" Wells was one of the finest players to play in pre-integration black baseball leagues. A true five tool shortstop, Wells was one of the fastest runners in each league he played in, as well as one of the best defenders and possessing a fantastic bat.

Playing for multiple Negro League teams, he was known as part of the famous "Million Dollar Infield" in his time with the Newark Eagles. The infield included fellow legend Mule Suttles, as well as stars Ray Dandridge and Dick Seay.

As was common for non-white players pre-integration, Wells played in Mexico and enjoyed his time in the first years of the 1940s there. Compared to the brutal segregation and racist groups throughout America, Wells enjoyed the acceptance and freedom he found in Mexico. For the rest of his playing career he spent time in Mexico, US, and Canada until 1950.

Wells, besides being one of the biggest stars of black baseball, was also the first professional player to wear a being helmet while batting, something that would not be required until decades later.

Wells may not have the notoriety of arguably the greatest hitters and pitchers of all time, Josh Gibson and Satchel Paige respectively, but Wells career spanning from the early 20s to 1950 still carries a lasting legacy that earned him a spot in the hall of fame in 1997. Wells passed away in 1989, missing his induction, sadly all to common for former black baseball stars.

[craftboutique1973]

Check out this awesome 'Baseball More Need Tim Andersons' design on @TeePublic!

[zegalba]

Nippon-Life Stadium, home of the Osaka Kintetsu Buffaloes (1960)

[ifelllikeastar]

Willie Mays amazes centerfield fans with a leaping, one-handed catch of Duke Snider's long drive in 1954.

[heartbreak-grl]

so true bestie

[tvgals]

soccer! gojo who you often throw crumpled up papers at, just to see how good his reflexes are. he smiles and kicks them up , kneeing them behind him and finishing it with kicking it back to you. while you’re concentrated on trying to replicate what he did, he takes your chin between his thumb and index, bringing your lips into a kiss.

basketball! sukuna who you help train, passing a ball to him a couple times while he works on around the worlds. he can’t thank you enough when he hit the game winning shot from the toughest corner on the court, all the times you scolded him that he needed to work on his weaknesses paid off. he thanked you by taking you out to dinner and driving you to a drive in movie where you two cuddled and kissed the night away.

baseball! suguru who you play catch with in the backyard, telling him to not throw so hard. you two often go on batting cage dates, you paying extra for time so suguru can get extra reps in. suguru couldn’t describe how angry you were when he came home with ghost roots for championships that season.

rugby! nanami who taught you how to throw a rugby ball, his large palm over yours, guiding your fingers so you can get the perfect throw. you smile when the ball spirals across the backyard, jumping for joy as nanami looks down at you with pride, picking you up and kissing along your face while trudging into the house.

lacrosse! choso whose wounds you often have to patch from him falling so often. he looks at you in awe and love as you tend to his needs. kissing each scar you come across after sanitizing and laying a bandaid over it. he grins as you post you twos post-game pictures as his grinning face from winning the game takes up most the picture.

football! toji who you hate watching play. although you love seeing him win and be all manly, you can’t help but stress when he gets jumped and pushed on, being assaulted almost. you wanna look away and cover your eyes in terror when the ball gets passed to him, but he perseveres and makes his record-breaking touchdown in his last college game before the nfl.

[odinsblog]

When was America ever great? This was not forever ago. As you can see, Reggie Jackson is still alive to retell his experiences. This is the lived history of America’s ongoing racism that Republicans and conservatives are desperately trying to erase with book bans and other “legal” forms of whitewashing history.

[azdmathings]

Saturdays are for Sport Play!

After Terry brought in the Winning Run with his Triple, his Favorite Fan followed him home to play a New Game!

[h3arts4strs]

Birds of a Feather

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K. Sato x fem!Reader

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01 ᯓ★ After years of not seeing or hearing from your old friend, Kenji Sato, it’s announced the player would be making a return to Japan. Although you have decided to leave that life behind, an unexpected encounter is made.

WORD COUNTᯓ★ 1.2K

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“Western baseball sensation, Kenji Sato, is finally coming home.” My attention immediately shifted from what was meant to be a crochet sweater but rather resembled a Thneed from The Lorax, to reach for the TV remote to increase the volume. “It's reported that the famous baseball player will be returning home and joining the Japanese Giants this season! Pretty exciting-“, it was at that point I switched off the TV and let out a sigh. It has been years.

Ken and I had a strong bond in the past, one bound together through child wonder, the thought of something lasting forever and a shared love for Ultraman. I still remember the first day we met, sometimes shamelessly catching myself thinking about the incident. It was a summer afternoon at a primary school baseball game. Due to the sport being newly established at my school and the few numbers at the time, the boy and girl teams had been conjoined to make up for the numbers. I could still recall the lush grass underneath my shoes as I gripped the baseball bat, ready to swing and woo the crowd of students who had stayed after school. The pitcher, a dark-haired boy whose head was too big for his shoulder was getting in position, waiting for the signal from the coach. One, two, three, ball! The ball was hurdling towards me, its speed picking up as it got closer and closer. I kept my eye on the ball then, smack!

I dropped my bat and my hands immediately flew to my right eye, gently applying pressure in a poor attempt to alleviate the pain I felt. How embarrassing. Members of my team were flocking to check my condition as I was still in shock. The team surrounded me as the coach gently removed my hands from my eye, revealing the dark ring that had started to form from where the ball hit me. It was that day that I had met the boy who hit me with the ball, it was that day I had met Kenji Sato.

It was through the baseball incident we started talking and quickly became the best of friends, often going out after all baseball games to get delicious frozen treats or play superheroes in the park. One of my favourite memories with Kenji was, the time he gave me the best advice, something I carry with me every day. It stemmed from primary school and how I would be alienated or made fun of for how I looked. Whether it was for my skin colour, hair, or how I sounded, especially when speaking in broken Japanese, I became the talk of the school. I hated it. I hated how my name was an inside joke to many cliques. I hated myself. The relentless teasing led to me always begging my mom to let me straighten my hair, in an attempt to fit in. Kenji noticed this, prompting the best advice he has ever told me, something that will forever stick with me, ‘kids will talk no matter what, so give them something good to talk about’. It was moments like that that had us stuck at the hip until a forceful separation was made a few months later, Ken was moving to America. 

At that point in time, it felt as if the world had ended at the fruitful age of 11, unbeknownst to what awaited me in my years of adolescence. My best friend would be moving across the North Pacific, to the world of the west, leaving Japan and me behind. We then made it a mission to keep contact, not allowing our friendship to falter and for the first year and a half we did just that. The strength of our bond could not be questioned as it was that strong and not once had I ever been left to wonder are we still friends. It was only until I noticed he messaged less and less and took longer to reply and when he did, it seemed forced. I was naive to think that we would stay the same, to believe that he would get tired of this distance. We were like two slow dancers, experiencing each other's comforting embrace until the song's ending would inevitably force us to part. I can’t blame him. Life happened and we unfortunately never spoke again, leading me up to my present, one where I sit snuggled up in a warm blanket as I attempt to crochet while having the ambience of the TV fill my luxury apartment.

I would love to meet up with Kenji again and see how he’s been doing after all these years but the thought of it being an interaction is nothing short of that awkward tension with constant “oooh”, “That’s cool” and “By the way, sorry for not messaging you anymore out of the blue, I was feeling a bit silly” so it would be best I leave that chapter behind, continue living life as I have been. After coming to my conclusion I decide to retire for the night, getting ready for a busy day as a KDF fighter pilot.

. . . 

As the sun shines through my blinds, I slowly rise, stretching until a satisfying pop noise escapes my back. I go about my regular morning routine and change into my fitness wear which consists of sweatpants, a compression jacket and some trainers. After battling with my hair, I managed to put it into an updo, practical yet adorable. I grab my headphones, phone and house keys and go out for a morning run. 

I had started incorporating morning runs on weekends as a way to remain active when I was not able to surf and enjoy other water activities. As my body carried me on the boardwalk at a steady pace, I listened to my favourite artist and mentally planned out my day, I was going to go home, freshen up and explore the city, discover small shops that hid in the crooks and crannies of the city, have lunch at a cute cafe then return home, it would be the perfect self-care day. 

I continued to run, enjoying the salty breeze that gently blew on my face, the rising sun that warmed me up and the sound of crashing waves I could hear over my music. My mind and body felt amazing, being able to reconnect with nature after a long week of flying and capturing was therapeutic.

After running my routine 5km, I headed towards the nearest smoothie bar to get myself the tasty treat I deserved after doing my run and beating my previous time constraint. I walk into the shop, enjoying the feeling of the AC cooling down my body. I analysed the options on the menu and decided to go with a simple berry smoothie. Once my order had been prepared and I reached over the counter to receive my drink, I felt someone tap my shoulder. When I turned around to see who was behind what they needed, “Hey, it's been a while."

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✮chérie

[mimi-0007]

Jackie and Rachel Robinson

[newyorkthegoldenage]

On April 10, 1947, Jackie Robinson became the first African-American ever to be admitted into the major leagues. He is shown here right after he signed his contract with the Brooklyn Dodgers at the Dodgers' office.

Photo: Associated Press

[blastofsports]

The Catch was a baseball play made by New York Giants center fielder Willie Mays on September 29, 1954, during Game 1 of the 1954 World Series at the Polo Grounds in Upper Manhattan, New York City. During the eighth inning with the score tied 2–2, Cleveland Indians batter Vic Wertz hit a deep fly ball to center field that had the runners on base poised to score. However, Mays made an over-the-shoulder catch while on the run to record the out, and his throw back to the infield prevented the runners from advancing. The Giants won the game 5–2 in extra innings, and eventually the World Series. The Catch is regarded as one of the greatest plays in baseball history.

[horny-athletes]

[cycle-hit]

to see a milgram character as a "good person" or "bad person" is a failure of media literacy for milgram. the entire lesson of the milgram project is that thinking in such black and whites, to deem someone as "good - innocent/forgiven" and "bad - guilty/guilty" only causes damage. the prisoners voted forgiven are not helped. the prisoners voted guilty aren't either. the lesson is that such a mindset will never help you- that it will harm whatever youre touching with it.

we cannot stop this, either- we have to keep choosing one or the other, because an abstained vote is impossible. we just have to keep choosing to shock them, over and over, no matter how much they beg us to stop because there is no other choice. you as an individual can refuse to vote, but someone else will always choose to. it is better to put in a vote, in that scenario, than to have it be uncounted entirely.

stop shoving characters in such black and white boxes. this is a story about nuance. they are not only "good", they are not only "bad". acknowledge that they are both. acknowledge that these characters are deeper than that. this is, quite literally, the "look deeper" media, you're supposed to be analysing. you're supposed to be theorising and looking at evidence under a microscope.

you're supposed to be acknowledging nuance, because anything could be true and anything could be incorrect. even a theory you prize could be completely wrong, or a theory you hate could be completely right. theorising about a character is not to "excuse" their actions or make them more "sympathetic", but rather to explain their actions. to flesh them out.

plus, as a bit of rant, you've all gotta stop dismissing people's theories completely just because you believe your own is oh-so above it. acknowledge a theory's evidence, acknowledge a theory's points, acknowledge why it could and could not be true. don't become obsessed with the black and white "I Choose To Only See The Worst Of This Character And Nothing Else Because That's My Preference!!! I'm Just Critical!!!" or "I Choose To Only See The Good Of This Character And Nothing Else Because That's My Preference!!! I'm A Moral Paragon!!!". jesus fucking christ.

i sincerely hope this doesnt make you believe that i think im above this same mindset either- i'm very much not. i can be guilty of it as well. but the important thing about analysing media is the ability to acknowledge every possibility, every point of view, anything that's possible. to discard any bias you may have in order to figure out what's going on in a clear and succinct manner that is closest to the truth. please remember this!

[malesocksnfarts]

Some alphas