The intersection of sport and racial culture is always a perilous one, and the casualties at that intersection are many. Saturday’s dispute between New York Yankees third baseman Josh Donaldson and Chicago White Sox shortstop Tim Anderson is only the latest example.
The superficial facts are clear enough; it’s their interpretation that becomes muddy. The brawl, which emptied both teams’ benches, began after Anderson objected to Donaldson’s reference to him as “Jackie,” a name Donaldson apparently has used repeatedly for Anderson since an interview Anderson gave to Sports Illustrated a couple of years ago.
In that interview, Anderson compared himself in some ways to Jackie Robinson.
"“I kind of feel like today’s Jackie Robinson,” Anderson said. “That’s huge to say but it’s cool, many, because he changed the game, and I feel like I’m getting to a point where I need to change the game.”"
Comparing one’s self to a cultural and baseball hero such as Robinson is always problematic because it invites accusations of hubris. Indeed that allegation — hubris — is the kindest interpretation one can give to what has been described as Donaldson’s repeated use of the reference with respect to Anderson.
By that interpretation — which obviously can be disputed — the term was Donaldson’s sarcastic way of saying, “Hey Tim, you aren’t Jackie Robinson.”
The incident hearkens back to a famous moment from the 1988 Vice Presidential debate between Senators Dan Quayle and Lloyd Bentsen.
At one point during that debate, Quayle, a Republican, compared his Congressional experience to that of John F. Kennedy at the time Kennedy was elected president in 1960. Since Kennedy was a Democratic icon — and a martyred one that that — the allusion (while technically true) was also deliberately provocative, and Bentsen, a Democrat, reacted. “Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy,” he famously replied.
Saturday’s incident casts Donaldson in the role of Bentsen, effectively telling Anderson, “You’re no Jackie Robinson.”
Whether that put-down was merited or gratuitous and undeserved depends, obviously, on factors almost none of us are positioned to grasp. To what on-field or off-field events was Anderson referencing when he made the allusion? What changes does he see as necessary? Is he as well-positioned as Robinson to influence those changes?
Perhaps someone will follow-up with Anderson on those topics.
For his part, Donaldson knew or should have known that his challenge to Anderson would be viewed as provocative both by the player and by his teammates. That’s not inherently a bad thing; in any athletic contest, it can be considered an advantage to distract an opponent by getting under his skin … as long as one does it in a socially acceptable way.
Therein lies the rub. The White Sox obviously felt that Donaldson crossed a racial line, which by common agreement would be both inappropriate and likely punishable. Indeed, the commissioner’s office has announced it is looking into the incident.
White Sox manager Tony LaRussa flatly called Donaldson’s comments “racist,” although some would wonder how that could be since Donaldson was directly quoting Anderson, albeit in a sarcastic way.
One thing is already clear. Donaldson intended to get a reaction … and succeeded.