On the field Robinson’s fearlessness, competitiveness, speed, and great eye at the plate made him not only the most exciting player of his time, but one of the best players in the game. He won baseball’s very first Rookie of the Year award in 1947. He was not generally a power hitter, but could hit line drives to all fields, rarely struck out, and of course was one of the most dangerous baserunners of all time. He also benefited from playing on an excellent Brooklyn club – the Dodgers went to the World Series five times in his ten seasons with Brooklyn, facing the New York Yankees each time.

But if you were to assume that once his initial hurdles to acceptance were overcome that life was easy for Robinson you would be wrong. It is well-known that Branch Rickey extracted a promise from Robinson that he would not fight back for two years, so as not to endanger the great “experiment” that Rickey had so carefully laid the groundwork for. But after those two years were up, Robinson took the gloves off. He no longer had to accept treatment different from that of other players, and he let it be known that he wouldn’t. On the field Robinson was a fighter, not only for his personal dignity, but for his team. He took on opposing players, umpires, and sportswriters (who wielded far more power in the baseball world than they do today) with equal measure. Off the field, he was equally outspoken. For a ballplayer to speak out on social issues at that time was already a rarity, but for a black ballplayer to do so was highly controversial (maybe things haven’t changed that much). It was felt by much of the baseball establishment and the press, as well as many fellow players, that Robinson, having “made it” should be “grateful”. That is, he should play ball and keep his mouth shut. Robinson refused to oblige, expressing his view that letting a few black players into baseball – after decades of refusing to allow them – was not enough. Baseball needed to do more, particularly by hiring black managers and front office personnel. This was not a message writers like the New York Daily News’ Dick Young wished to hear, and even a few of Robinson’s fellow black players (Roy Campanella is often cited) expressed the view that Jackie, by being so outspoken, would “spoil” the chances that they had to make in the bigs.

The Dodgers finally achieved their long-sought after goal of a world championship by beating the Yankees in the 1955 World Series. The long-elusive “next year” for Brooklyn fans had finally arrived. By this time the pressure of all he had been through had started to take a toll on Jackie’s health, and his baseball skills began to decline, as happens to even the greatest players. Perhaps even more importantly he lost a key ally when Walter O’Malley outmaneuvered Branch Rickey to take control of the Dodgers in 1950. O’Malley considered Robinson a “Rickey man”, and a troublemaker. When Walter Alston took charge of the Dodgers as manager in 1955, his relationship with Robinson got off to a rocky start and never fully recovered. Finally, seeing an opportunity to rid himself of Robinson, O’Malley traded him to the crosstown rival New York Giants after the 1956 season. It is often said that Robinson was such a true blue Dodger that he refused to report to the hated Giants. The truth is more prosaic: Robinson had already accepted a position as Vice President of the Chock Full O’ Nuts coffee company and was waiting for the right time to announce his retirement. He had also promised Look magazine an exclusive on his retirement announcement and the Giant trade forced his hand. It is a sad commentary on the baseball world that Robinson saw no role for himself as a manager or in the front office of the Dodgers or any other MLB team. Regardless of who was at fault, no offer in baseball was forthcoming, and Robinson was eager for new challenges in the business world.