42 (2013) - full transcript

In 1945, America's greatest

generation came back from war.

The flags of freedom

fly over Europe.

Nazi Germany had been defeated...

and three months later, Imperial

Japan surrendered as well.

And there's jubilation

around this earth.

Men returned home.

Among them, some

of baseball's most beloved names.

Musial. DiMaggio. Williams.

Life in the United States

could return to normal.

- What's the guy's name?

- What's on second?

- Who's on second?

- Who's on first?

- I don't know.

- Third base.

And baseball was proof positive

that democracy was real.

A baseball box score, after

all, is a democratic thing.

It doesn't say how big you are

or what religion you follow.

It does not know how you voted

or the colour of your skin.

It simply states what

kind of ballplayer

you were on any particular day.

And he did it. It's a home run.

They knew he'd do it.

African Americans had served

their country gallantly.

They returned home from fighting

to free the world from tyranny...

only to find racism,

segregation and

Jim Crow law still

waiting at home.

Segregation was the law...

and no group was more scrupulous

in its observance of custom...

than organised baseball.

There was a long road ahead.

If African Americans dreamed

of playing baseball...

it was not for the Yankees...

but for teams like the Kansas City

Monarchs of the Negro Leagues...

where the barnstorming

style of play

stood in contrast to the Majors.

In 1946, there were 16 Major

League baseball teams...

with a total of 400

players on their rosters.

Every one of the 400

players were white.

But when opening day came in 1947,

that number dropped to 399...

and one man stood apart.

Gentlemen, I have a plan.

Plan's good, Mr Rickey.

You always have one.

My wife says I'm

too old. Heh, heh.

That my health's not up to it.

My son says, everybody in...

Everybody in baseball is

gonna be against me. Heh.

But I'm gonna do it.

Do what, Mr Rickey?

I'm gonna bring a

Negro ballplayer...

to the Brooklyn Dodgers.

With all due respect, sir,

have you lost your mind?

Think... Think about...

Think about the abuse...

that you are gonna take

from the newspapers...

let alone how this is gonna

play out in Flatbush.

Please, Mr Rickey.

Sit down, Harold.

No law against it, Clyde.

No.

No, but there's a code.

You break a law and get away with

it, some people

think you're smart.

You break an unwritten law...

you'll be an outcast.

So be it.

New York's full of

Negro baseball fans.

Dollars aren't black and

white, they're green.

Every dollar's green.

I don't know who he is...

or where he is...

but he's coming.

Hey, runner.

Where'd you learn to move like

that, at a dime-a-dance night?

Stand still.

There you are.

Ball.

Safe.

Catcher.

When you gonna start

throwing for real?

You talking to me?

You got a rag arm, catcher.

Steal home. You'll find out

what kind of arm I got.

Okay.

I'm coming.

Where's your shortstop from?

California.

Sure got a mouth on him.

Safe.

Discussions concerning

Japan's offer of surrender.

Washington, London,

Moscow, and Chungking...

now framing their decision.

When this decision

will be communicated

to Tokyo via the government's...

- Fill her up?

- Yes, sir.

- You boys heading out?

- Chicago.

Chicago, huh? Heh.

- You boys get around.

- Yeah, we sure do.

- Hey. Hey, you, where you going?

- To the toilet.

Hell, come on, boy. You

know you can't go in there.

Them Cokes are a nickel.

Take that hose out of the tank.

- Robinson.

- What?

I said take it out.

We'll get our 99 gallons

of gas some place else.

All right, then. Go on.

Go on. Use it.

Roy Campanella.

Hell of a player. He's too

sweet. They'd eat him alive.

All right.

Oh, sorry. Oh, wait. Sorry.

- Satchel Paige, then.

- He's too old.

We need a player with

a future, not a past.

Here.

Jack Roosevelt Robinson.

Four-sport college

man, out of UCLA.

That means he's played

with white boys.

Playing for the

Kansas City Monarchs.

Twenty-six years old. He's

batting .350. Three-fifty.

Methodist.

Commissioned Army officer.

He was court-martialled.

He's a troublemaker.

Well, he argues with umpires.

A quick temper is his reputation.

Well, what was he

court-martialled for?

Wouldn't sit in the back of a

military bus. Fort Hood, Texas.

Driver asked him to, move back.

MPs had to take him off.

There, you see?

I see he resents segregation.

If he were white, we'd

call that spirit.

Robinson's a Methodist.

I'm a Methodist.

God's a Methodist.

We can't go wrong. Find him.

Bring him here.

How are you, fellas? I'm

looking for your, shortstop.

You Jackie Robinson?

Who are you?

Mr Rickey.

What's this about?

This is about baseball, Jackie.

I see you starting in spring

with our affiliate in Montreal.

If you make it there...

we'll try you down here...

with the Dodgers.

With the white Brooklyn Dodgers.

I'll pay you $600 a month.

And a $3500 bonus when

you sign the contract.

That agreeable?

- Yes, that's fine but...

- There's one condition.

I know you can hit behind the

runner. That you can read a pitch.

One question is...

can you control your temper?

My temper?

Yes, your temper.

What are you, deaf?

A black man in white baseball,

heh, can you imagine the reaction?

The vitriol?

Dodgers check into a hotel,

a, a decent, good hotel.

You're worn out from the road.

Some clerk won't give you

the pen to sign in with.

"We got no room for

you, boy. Not even

down in the coal bin

where you belong."

Team stops at a restaurant.

Waiter won't take your order.

"Didn't you see the sign on the

door? No niggers allowed."

What are you gonna do then?

Fight him? Ruin all my plans?

Answer me, you black

son of a bitch.

You want a player who doesn't

have the guts to fight back?

No.

No.

I want a player who's got

the guts not to fight back.

People aren't gonna like this.

They're gonna do anything

to get you to react.

Echo a curse with a curse

and, they'll hear only yours.

Follow a blow with

a blow and they'll

say, "The Negro lost his temper."

That, "The Negro does not belong."

Your enemy will be out in force...

and you cannot meet him

on his own low ground.

We win with hitting, running,

fielding. Only that.

We win if the world is

convinced of two things:

That you are a fine gentleman

and a great baseball player.

Like our Saviour...

you gotta have the guts...

to turn the other cheek.

Can you do it?

You give me a uniform...

you give me a, heh,

number on my back...

and I'll give you the guts.

Hello?

Rae...

Jack.

I'm in Brooklyn.

Brooklyn? For what?

I don't want to say on the phone.

In fact, I'm not

supposed to tell anyone.

What's going on? Aren't you

supposed to be playing in Chicago?

We've been tested, you and me.

We've done everything

the right way. We have.

Me trying to make money,

you finishing school.

We don't owe the world a thing.

Only each other.

Jack, what are you talking about?

What is going on? What happened?

Will you marry me, Rae?

Absolutely.

Yes. Yes.

When?

How about right now?

Did my mum look happy?

Yes. You know your

mother loves me.

Did my gramme look happy?

Yes.

My brother look happy?

- Heh, your brother?

- Ha, ha.

Everyone looked happy. I've never

seen so many happy-looking people.

Did Jack Robinson look happy?

What if I can't make you happy?

Too late.

You already do.

It's you and me, Rae.

Ooh, ha, ha.

Till the wheels fall off.

Oh, Jack, the world

is waiting for us.

The world can wait one more night.

Are you coming, Mrs Robinson?

I'd follow you

anywhere, Mr Robinson.

Okay.

Okay.

Flight to Pensacola

leaves in an hour.

Flight to Pensacola

leaves in an hour.

"Flight to Pensacola

leaves in an hour.

Flight to Pensacola

leaves in an hour."

Are you okay?

I've just never seen one before.

Oh.

Yeah, we're not in

Pasadena any more.

Rae?

Rae?

Rae.

Oh, boy.

We have to lighten the plane.

There's some bad

weather east of here.

A heavy plane is dangerous.

So someone'll have to cancel.

Look, I'm with the Brooklyn

Dodger organisation.

I have to get down to Daytona.

I'm supposed to report to

spring training in the morning.

We'll do our best

to get you there by

tomorrow, but it might

be the day after.

- Jack.

- Right this way.

You gave away our seats?

You get us back on that plane.

You get us back on

that plane right now.

Do you wanna call the sheriff...

or should I?

Watch your step.

Oop, there he is. There's my boy.

Folks, stand back, we'll

get the bags out.

Jackie Robinson.

Wendell Smith.

Pittsburgh Courier.

A reporter?

Mr Rickey sent me to meet you.

I'm gonna be your Boswell.

My who?

Your chronicler.

Your advance man.

Hell, even your chauffeur.

Mrs Robinson.

It's Rachel.

Man, you two looked wiped out.

You got a car?

Huh.

Brooklyn plays downtown. Montreal

just a few blocks from here.

Joe and Duff Harris live here.

He gets out the

Negro vote. He does

a lot of good for coloured people.

Now, Mr Rickey set it up himself.

"If the Robinsons can't

stay at the hotels...

they should stay some place

that represents something."

You'll stay here all but a few

days at the end of the week...

when the Dodger

organisation goes to

Sanford. It's about

45 minutes away.

You'll stay here, Rachel.

This'll be your home when

Jackie has to travel.

Where are the other wives staying?

Welcome to Daytona Beach.

- There are no other wives.

- You must be Jackie.

You're the only one that Mr Rickey

allowed to spring training.

- Thank you.

- After you.

Come on, now, skip.

All right, here we go, boys.

- I got it. I got it.

- I got it.

That was a pretty big hop, there.

- You got the hop.

- Ha, ha.

Spring training. It's where

we work out our differences.

All right.

You boys continue to pretend

you're ballplayers.

- Morning, Leo.

- Good morning, Mr Rickey.

How are they doing?

They're rusty, but we'll have them

oiled up in no time, ready to go.

Oop.

First day of spring training.

Pittsburgh Courier readers

need to know how it feels.

It's okay.

That's not exactly a headline.

It's all I got.

Look, Jack, right now,

it's just me asking you.

But there's gonna be The New York

Times and the Sporting News.

You should think about it.

If they ask something,

I'll answer it.

Okay, well here's one for you:

What if one of these white

pitchers throws at you?

Look, they're gonna

try to get under

your skin. You need to be ready.

Listen, listen.

You know...

You know how when

you're at the plate...

you want to see the

ball come in slow?

You want to see these

questions come in slow too.

Hey, Jackie. Jackie, you think you

can make it with these white boys?

I had no problems with white

men in the service or at UCLA.

What you gonna do if one of these

pitchers throws at your head?

Yeah, Jack.

- I'll duck.

- Heh, that's a good one.

Hey, Jack, what's your

natural position?

I've been playing shortstop.

Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job?

Reese plays for Brooklyn.

I'm still trying to make Montreal.

Hey, Jack. Hey, Jack,

is this about politics?

It's about getting paid.

"About getting paid." Hear what he

said? "It's about getting paid."

He's gotta be kidding.

Yeah. Good luck, Hop.

Clay, Jackie Robinson.

Jackie, I'd like you to meet Clay

Hopper. Manager of

the Montreal Royals.

Jack. They call me Hop.

Now, we ain't doing

much today. Just

tossing the ball

around, hitting a few.

You can probably toss with

those fellows over there.

Jorgensen, come here.

You're not playing him

at shortstop, huh, Clay?

Oh, he's getting by on a quick

release. His arm's

too weak for short.

I think second base is his spot.

I agree.

Clay...

I need you to get

the other players

to act like gentlemen around him.

Treat him like they would

any other team-mate.

Be natural, work

together in harmony.

Got the double up.

That was practically superhuman.

Heh, "superhuman"?

I mean, don't get carried

away, Mr Rickey.

That's still a nigger out there.

Come on in now. Grab

a bat. Who's up?

Nice job, boys.

Clay, I realise that attitude is

part of your cultural heritage.

That you practically nursed race

prejudice at your

mother's breast...

so I'll let that go.

But I will tell you this:

You will either manage Robinson

fairly and correctly...

or you, sir, can be unemployed.

Yes, sir.

Let's go. Come on, guys, let's go.

Way to turn two, Jackie.

Well, well, lookie here.

Jackie, I'm Mr Brock.

Welcome to Sanford, Florida.

Thank you for having us.

The day belongs to

decent-minded people.

- Wendell, always good to see you.

- You as well.

Yeah, well, the wife's

inside cooking.

You know what she asked me?

She asked me this morning:

What do you serve when a

hero's coming to dinner?

Heh, Mr Brock, I'm

just a ballplayer.

Oh, no, no.

You tell that to all

the little coloured

boys playing baseball

in Florida today.

To them, you a hero.

- Here you go, ma'am.

- Thank you, sir.

Here you go.

Scorecards, get your

scorecards here.

Scorecards here. Get

your scorecards here.

Ed. You stay where I can see you.

Mum, I'm 10 years old.

Come on.

Welcome to the inner-league game

between the Brooklyn Dodgers...

and their Minor League

affiliate, the Montreal Royals.

There you go, Pee Wee.

Now coming to bat

for the Royals...

number nine, Jackie Robinson.

Get out of here.

Stand up tall, Jackie.

Get out, nigger.

Jack's got a thick

skin. He'll be okay.

Well, how about you?

I better get one in a hurry, heh.

Have pride, Jackie.

Look. Look, there he is,

black as the ace of spades.

Hey, nigger boy. What are

you doing playing baseball?

Hit a home run, Jackie.

Please, God, let Jackie

show them what we can do.

- Please.

- All right, now, Jackie Robinson.

Let's go, Jackie.

Come on, Jackie.

Ball.

They're giving you a chance.

Do something about it.

Let's go, Higbe. Shut

him down right here.

Ball.

Durocher, tell him to

throw some strikes.

Let him hit.

Come on now, come on now.

He ain't scared of you, Higbe.

You show him, Jackie.

Ball.

Come on, rook. Ain't you

gonna swing at something?

Higbe, just settle

down. Let's get the

ball over the plate

now, all right?

Ball four.

You stink, Higbe.

It's just a walk.

Ha, ha, who can blame them?

Good job, Jackie.

Now coming to bat

for the Royals...

number 3, Spider Jorgensen.

Let's go, Hig.

All right, Higbe,

shake it off, there.

We got this, boy. We got

this, boy. Let's do it.

Well, throw it over there.

What are you waiting for?

Safe.

Come on, pop up, Jack.

Ball one.

Yeah, Jackie.

Heads up, Jack. Get the sign.

- He's going.

- Runner. Runner.

- Come on, move.

- Get back.

Get him, Schultzy.

Get him, Schultzy.

Here we go.

What are you gonna

do now? Come on.

Outside. Outside.

On your horse, Bragan.

On your horse. Outside.

- Now.

- Go, Stanky. Go, Stank.

Ooh.

Hey, all right.

Hey. Don't you know nothing?

You're supposed to get

back when I step off.

What are you doing? You can dance

with him later.

Focus on the plate.

Come on, now. Work the

plate. Work the plate.

Come on, Higbe, don't

worry about the

runner. Get this guy at the plate.

Timeout.

That's a baulk.

Runner, take home.

Son of a bitch.

He didn't come to play,

he came to kill.

What happened? I don't understand.

The pitcher dropped the ball. It's

a baulk. Therefore, Jackie scores.

But he didn't do anything.

Oh, Mama, yes, he did. He

discombobulated the man.

He... What?

Phew.

I hope Jackie's

sleeping all right.

Chasing baseballs in the sun

all day? Put me in my grave.

- How they treating him out there?

- Well, they treat him okay.

As far as I can see.

Well, you can find good

people every place.

Even here in Sanford.

Is he in there?

Who is it that you're looking for?

The nigra ballplayer.

Is he in there?

He's asleep right now.

Maybe you wanna come

back in the morning.

No, I ain't coming back.

Other fellas is coming.

And they ain't happy that he's

staying here in Sanford...

playing ball with white boys.

Now, let me tell you

something, sir.

No, you listen to me, young man.

You best just skedaddle

on out of here.

Because if they get here

and he's still here...

there's gonna be trouble.

You understand?

Trouble.

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

Mr Brock.

May I please use your telephone?

Wake him up and get

him out of there.

Put him in the car and, start

driving to Daytona Beach. Now.

Oh, and, Wendell...

under no circumstances are you to

tell him what this is about...

I don't want him getting

it in his head...

to stay there and fight.

Where's he at?

I don't know. Think he's

getting another one.

Hey, Jim. You escorting

that boy out of town?

Hey, look at this.

What's that?

What's he want?

Hey, hey, hey.

What the hell, Wendell?

A man came by while

you was asleep.

He said more men were coming.

It might have been those fellas.

Mr Rickey said to get you

to Daytona Beach ASAP.

Why didn't you say so?

Mr Rickey was afraid

you wouldn't leave.

You'd want to stay

there and fight.

Man, what in the hell

are you laughing at?

I thought you woke me because

I was cut from the team.

You got a strange

sense of humour, man.

Two, two, two. Take him

back. Throw him out now.

Safe.

You're too fast for them, Jackie.

All right, way to

go. Way to go, boy.

Get that nigger off the field.

Come on, Spider, bring

him in. Let's go.

We got him.

Four. Four. Four.

- No cut.

- He's running through.

Safe.

Get off the field.

- What?

- Get off the field. Now.

Why?

Because it's against

the law, that's why.

No nigger's gonna

play with white boys.

Now you get off the

field, or go to jail.

You use that thing, you better

hit me between the eyes.

Hey, hold on, now.

What'd he do wrong?

We ain't having no nigras mix

with white boys in this town.

You all ain't up-states now.

They gotta keep separate.

The Brooklyn Dodgers ain't

changing our way of living.

Where you all from, anyhow?

I'm from Greenwood, Mississippi.

Ha, ha, hell, boy, you

ought to know better.

Now, you tell your

nigra I said to git.

What did you do?

Oh, I said:

"Okay, skipper. I'm a-gitting,

I'm a-gitting, I'm a-gitting.

- You don't want no trouble."

- You did not.

- Yes, I did. Yes, I did.

- Ha, ha.

Then I took a cold shower.

We lost two to one.

Aw.

Okay, skipper. I'm

a-gitting, I'm a-gitting.

Oh, no, you not

getting away from me.

Jack.

Get back, Rae.

I want you to know something.

Yeah, what's that?

I want you to know I'm pulling

for you to make good.

A lot of folks around

here feel the same way.

If a man's got the goods, he

deserves a fair

chance, that's all.

Ma'am.

You wanted to see me, Mr Rickey?

Bermuda grass grows so well here.

I wish we could get it to grow

like this up in Brooklyn.

Yeah.

I like the way it smells

when they mow it.

Heh, me too.

Jackie...

it is my pleasure...

to tell you that you have earned a

place with the Montreal Royals.

When they head north

on Tuesday for

opening day with Jersey City...

you'll be on the train.

I won't let you down.

Yeah, I know you won't.

If you don't mind, I'd

like to go tell my wife.

Ah, you give her my regards.

Mr Rickey?

Why are you doing this?

I'm in the baseball business.

With you and the

other Negro players

I hope to bring up next year...

I can put together a team that

can win the World Series.

And the World Series means money.

You believe that, don't you?

I don't think it matters

what I believe.

Only what I do.

Agreed.

Therefore...

I want you to worry those

pitchers till they come apart.

Run as you see fit.

Sometimes you'll get caught,

but that doesn't matter.

Ty Cobb got caught plenty.

You just run those bases

like the devil himself.

Put the natural fear

of God in them.

Yes, sir.

Train for Atlanta and

points north now boarding.

Train for Atlanta and

points north now boarding.

There he is.

All aboard.

Young man.

I can still hear him.

I can still hear him.

Play ball.

And now the line-up of the

visiting Montreal Royals.

Batting first, playing

centre field, Marv Rackley.

Batting second, playing

second base, Jackie Robinson.

Batting third, playing

left field, George Shuba.

Hey, you okay?

I think I might be sick.

Excuse me, Wendell.

Popcorn. Get your popcorn.

You all right, honey?

I'm sick.

Don't know why.

Thank you.

When did you have

your monthly last?

It may be that you're pregnant.

Now batting for Montreal,

number 9, Jackie Robinson.

Come on, Jack.

Come on, Jackie.

- Come on, batter.

- Put it here.

Whoo.

He may be superhuman after all.

Way to go.

Oh, Jack.

Yeah.

My daddy left. Heh.

He left us flat...

in Cairo, Georgia.

I was only six months

older than you are now.

I don't remember him.

Nothing good, nothing bad.

Nothing.

You will remember me.

I'm gonna be here with

you till the day I die.

Yeah.

Hello, Leo.

What are you doing?

I'm bowling.

No, I'm snowshoeing in the Alps.

I'm trying to sleep, Mr

Rickey. It's still dark out.

Another spring training is

upon us, Leo. In Panama.

I need to know your attitude

towards Jackie Robinson.

I don't got an

attitude toward him.

Eight times in the

Bible we're told

to love our neighbour as ourself.

It's one of God's most

repeated commands.

Well, I don't know

much about the Bible.

But I didn't go to school

just to eat my lunch.

I'll play an elephant if

he can help us win...

and to make room for him, I'll

send my own brother home.

Oh, what are you gonna do with me?

We're playing for

money here. Winning

is the only thing that matters.

Is he a nice guy?

Well, if by nice

you mean soft, no.

No, not particularly.

Good, he can't afford to be.

- Nice guys finish last.

- And what about nice girls?

So you have no objection to him?

None whatsoever. Can I

go back to sleep now?

- Yes.

- All right.

- Oh, and Leo.

- What?

The Bible has a thing or two

to say about adultery as well.

I'm sure it's got a lot to

say about a lot. Good night.

What am I gonna do with you?

I thought you knew.

You gonna take care of your mama?

No? You better.

You gonna take care of my mama?

Come here, baby.

- There you go.

- Come here, baby, I got you.

Promise me you'll write?

When have I ever not written?

I want you to know I'm there for

you, even if it's words on paper.

Rae...

you're in my heart.

You're getting close now, and the

closer you get, the

worse they'll be.

Don't let them get to you.

I won't.

God built me to last.

I'll see you in Brooklyn

in eight weeks, oh.

It might be Montreal.

It's gonna be Brooklyn.

I know it is.

Why do you think

Rickey's got us playing

spring games here in Panama, huh?

He wants us to get

used to Negro crowds.

He wants more of them

than there are of us.

And he's hoping it'll make us more

comfortable being around Robinson.

Ahem. All right, ahem.

Listen up. This is what I got.

"We, the undersigned Brooklyn

Dodgers, will not play ball...

on the same field as

Jackie Robinson."

That's right.

Kirby Higbe.

- I'll sign that.

- All right.

Brooklyn Dodger Declaration

of Independence.

That's right.

Give me that.

You all sure about this?

You wanna play ball with a nigger?

Skip's got you out in left?

- Yeah, for today.

- Hey, Robinson.

What do you want me

to do with this?

Well, you play first base.

Coach, I never played

first base in my life.

Well, it's like this:

Brooklyn's got a solid

second baseman.

We got Pee Wee Reese

over at short.

But first base is up for grabs.

Come on in.

- Hey, Stank.

- What's going on?

Well, we got a petition

going on, Stank.

Keep Robinson in Montreal.

Where he belongs.

Can't sign now, boys.

I'm indisposed.

How about I just catch

up with you later?

That ball's coming in

a lot faster, Jack.

The angle's a lot

different in second.

Take all the time in the world

on second. You're getting it.

That's like you have a suitcase

on your hand there, Jack.

The new glove, it's the big one

there, Jack. You'll

get used to it.

Give me the pen.

You know Mr Rickey wants you

to play conspicuous baseball.

To be so good that the Dodgers

demand to have you on their team.

That's it.

So I thought about

it for a while...

and I looked up "conspicuous"

in the dictionary.

It means "to attract

notice or attention."

Conspicuous.

Look, it's like

this: I got a wife,

I got a baby and I got no money.

So I don't wanna step

in anything, so...

You want to skip me on this

one, Dix. I'm not interested.

What if they put him at shortstop?

Exactly.

That's right, Pee Wee.

Well, I figure if he's man

enough to take my job...

- he deserves it.

- Ugh.

Oh, the hell he does.

He does not have the

ice water in his

veins to play big league baseball.

- That's right.

- So let him show what he's got.

Robinson can either

play or he can't.

It'll all take care of itself.

It's gonna cut you off.

So right foot on the

bag when it comes.

There you go. That's nice, Jackie.

Nice, Jackie. Pop that foot off.

When that ball comes, that

right foot, just pop that.

Pop that... Don't leave

that foot on there.

Yes, Mr Rickey.

Have our friends in the

press gone to sleep?

We are the only people awake on

this entire isthmus, Mr Rickey.

About this, petition, Leo.

I think a deliberate violation

of the law deserves...

a little show of force.

I leave it to you, Leo.

Good night.

Good night, Mr Rickey.

So, what are we doing

here in the night?

Leo said to get

everybody together.

- I was sleeping good.

- Down in the kitchen?

Wake up now, ladies. Wake up.

It has come to my

attention that some of

you fellas don't wanna

play with Robinson.

That you've even got

a petition you've

drawn up and you're

all going to sign.

You know what you can

do with your petition.

You can wipe your asses with it.

- Oh, come on, Leo.

- Come on, what?

Ballplayers gotta live

together, shower together.

It ain't fair to force

him on us like this.

Besides, I got a hardware store...

Screw your hardware

store, Dix. And

if you don't like it, screw you.

Mr Rickey will be happy to make

other arrangements for you.

Now, I don't care if he

is yellow, or black...

or has stripes like a zebra.

If Robinson can help us win, and

everything I have

seen says he can...

then he is gonna play

on this ball club.

Like it, lump it, make your minds

up to it, because he's coming.

And think about this when your

heads hit the pillows tonight.

He's only the first, boys.

Only the first.

There are more coming right

behind him every day...

and they have got talent

and they wanna play.

Oh, yeah, they are gonna

come scratching and diving.

So I would forget your petition

and worry about the field...

because unless you fellas pay a

little more attention

to your work...

they're gonna run you right

out of the ball park.

Bragan, most of your

team-mates have already...

recanted on this

petition nonsense.

Are you really here to tell me you

don't wanna play with Robinson?

Yes, sir.

My friends back in Birmingham

would never forgive me.

Well, what about your

friends in Brooklyn?

I don't know.

Then I will accommodate you.

As long as you give

me your word that you

will do your very

best for this team...

until I can work out a trade.

Do you think I would quit on

anyone? I don't quit, sir.

Only on yourself, apparently.

Taxi.

Hey, Jack.

You again.

That's right. Me again.

There something wrong

with that, Jack?

Where's the car?

Right this way.

They can't keep you

in Montreal for long.

After these exhibition games,

they're gonna have

to bring you up.

You don't have two words

to rub together, do you?

You ever wonder why I sit

down behind third base...

with my typewriter on my knees?

Does that ever cross your mind?

It's because Negro reporters

aren't allowed in the press box.

So guess what?

You, Mr Robinson, are not the only

one with something at stake here.

I apologise.

You've been there for

me through this...

more than anyone besides

Rae and Mr Rickey.

But I guess that's

what bothers me.

How do you mean?

I don't like needing someone

to be there for me.

I don't like needing

anyone for anything.

I never have.

You a hard case, Jack Robinson.

Hey.

Is it okay if I keep

driving you, or

should I let you get

out so you can walk?

"Branch Rickey cannot afford

to upset team chemistry...

so the only thing keeping Robinson

off the Dodgers now, plainly...

is the attitude of the players.

If it softens at the sight

of Jackie's skills...

he'll join the club sometime

between April 10th and April 15th.

Otherwise, Robinson will spend

the year back in Montreal."

Oh, for the love of Pete.

He batted .625 in the

exhibition games against them.

Us, them... Against us.

Judas Priest.

Jane Ann, are you out there?

Branch Rickey.

Yes, this is him.

The commissioner of what?

Yes, put him through.

The Commissioner of Baseball.

Branch. Ha. How are you?

Good, Happy. What

can I do for you?

How'd you feel about losing

Durocher for the year, Branch?

I'm sorry, Happy, heh, I thought

you said lose Durocher for a year.

I got a notice today...

from the Catholic

Youth Organisation

vowing a ban on baseball...

if Durocher wasn't punished

for his moral looseness.

You're joking.

I wish I were, but

it's this business

of this actress out in California.

She's recently divorced

and Durocher's the cause.

They say they may even

be illegally married.

Now I know you're joking.

I'm not.

Thing of it is, Branch...

this CYO, they buy a lot of seats,

they draw a lot of water...

and I can't afford to

ruffle their feathers.

I'm sorry, am I mixing

my metaphors there?

Happy, you know very well my

organisation is

entering a tempest.

I need Durocher at the helm.

He's the only man that can

handle this much trouble.

In fact, he loves it.

You're cutting off my right hand.

I have no choice.

I'm gonna sit your

manager, Branch.

Leo Durocher is suspended

from baseball for a year.

Happy, you can't do this,

you son of a bitch.

As the search continues...

to replace Leo Durocher, I

have it on good authority...

that former Yankee

manager Joe McCarthy

has turned down the request...

of Branch Rickey to take the

reins of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

He is not the only man to say no.

And so with the 1947

season about to begin...

the Dodgers are still

without a manager.

Now we present once again Mary...

Hello?

Mr Robinson? This is Jane

Ann in Mr Rickey's office.

He needs to see you right away.

He has a contract for you to sign.

Contract for me to sign.

Okay.

Hello?

Shoot.

Clyde, you're good.

Jane Ann, get in there.

Come on.

Harold, telegram the

press. Say this:

"Today the Brooklyn

Dodgers organisation...

has purchased the

contract of Jackie

Robinson from the Montreal Royals.

He will report immediately."

I love you.

I love you.

Lookie here.

Hey, you're looking

for your locker,

aren't you, son? Follow me.

I'm Hermanski.

Welcome to Brooklyn.

Greetings.

Hey, man. Ralph Branca.

Greetings.

Greetings. Okay.

I just found out today.

The best I can do.

I'll get you straightened

out tomorrow. Okay?

It's okay.

Robinson, can we get a photo?

Robinson, turn around. Come

on, come on, Mr Robinson.

Good luck, sir.

- Get out of here.

- We don't need you.

Get out of here.

Yeah. There he is.

♪ Oh, say can you see ♪

♪ By the dawn's early light ♪

♪ What so proudly we hailed ♪

♪ At the twilight's

last gleaming? ♪

♪ Who's broad stripes

and bright stars ♪

♪ Through the perilous fight ♪

♪ O'er the ramparts we watched ♪

♪ Were so gallantly streaming? ♪

♪ And the rockets red glare ♪

♪ The bombs bursting in air ♪

♪ Gave proof through the night ♪

♪ That our flag was still there ♪

♪ Oh, say does that

star-spangled banner yet wave ♪

♪ O'er the land of the free ♪

♪ And the home of the brave ♪

Play ball.

Another opening day, Harold.

All future, no past.

It's a blank page, sir.

Hello, everybody.

It's The Ol' Redhead

speaking here from high

up in the catbird

seat at Ebbets Field.

Welcome to opening day of the

1947 Brooklyn Dodgers season.

As many of you know, the Dodgers

finished 96-60 last season.

Respectable, but still two

games behind St. Louis...

who would, of course, go on

to take the World Series.

The Dodgers looking to move up

this year and win the pennant.

Now batting for the Dodgers...

One out. Bottom of the 1st.

Headed to the plate

now for his first

big league at bat

is Dodger rookie:

Jackie Robinson.

Jackie is very definitely brunet.

The Dodgers still

without a manager...

as Leo Durocher was suspended

earlier this week.

You got this, Jackie.

It's a shirtsleeve afternoon.

Johnny Sain looking in. When he's

got that fastball working...

what I mean to say is, he can toss

a lamb chop past a hungry wolf.

Oh, and it's a hard-hit ball

down the third baseline.

Elliott gobbles it up and makes

the long toss across the diamond.

You're out.

And Robinson is out.

Come on. Ump, get some glasses.

You blew it. AL, you

blew that call.

You blew it.

It was a close play at

first. A tie usually

goes to the runner

but not this time.

So that first big league hit

will remain to be seen.

So the Giants got Mize

batting clean up.

Shame about Leo.

Inevitable, I suppose.

I asked him if she was

worth it, he said yes.

How's the retirement?

Oh, it's just fine.

You know, the roses are...

Hell of a thing when a

man's got good health...

and plenty of money...

and absolutely nothing to do.

Heh, well, I'm perfectly happy.

Is that so?

You know, when I

took the Cleveland

uniform off two years ago...

I promised the missus I'd never

put on another uniform again.

So the roses are beautiful...

and, I sleep better too.

Roses and sleep are two

wonderful things, Burt.

But sleep you can get

when you're in your

casket, and flowers look

great on top of it.

But, you don't look like

a dead man to me, Burt.

What's this about, Branch?

I need you to manage the

Dodgers for me, Burt.

- No.

- Now, wait.

We're a ship without a Captain

and there's a typhoon coming.

I'm sorry, no.

Don't you miss the game, Burt?

Working with the players?

Helping to get the

best out of the team?

Go on, look me in the eye

and tell me you don't.

Baseball's the only life for

an old pepper pot like me.

But I promised my wife, Branch.

You promised her you'd never

put on a uniform again.

You didn't promise her

you wouldn't manage.

Wear a suit and a tie

like Connie Mack.

Come on, Burt.

What do you say?

Burt, I need you.

What do you say?

All right, men. Men?

Men?

I know you've all, heard the

news. I'm your new manager.

I don't have much to say to you.

Just...

don't be afraid...

of old Burt Shotton

as your manager.

You can win the pennant

in spite of me.

There's...

There's nothing I

can do to hurt you.

So...

You Robinson?

I thought so.

So let's get out there and beat

those... Who are we playing?

Giants, Burt.

Giants. Let's go beat the Giants.

Now batting, number 42...

first baseman, Jackie Robinson.

You mark my words and

circle this date.

Negroes are gonna run the white

man straight out of baseball.

I'm not prejudiced.

It's physiological.

They have a longer

heel bone. Gives

them an unfair speed advantage.

Here's Robinson. Jack holds

that club down by the end...

rear foot at the

back end of the box,

slight open stance,

bent at the knees.

Jack swings.

That ball is screaming

out to left.

Hartung watching it go and...

So long. Home run.

Jackie Robinson has his first

Major League home run.

Was that because his heel

bone was longer, Bob?

"Heel bone longer."

Sorry I'm late. Class ran long.

That's okay.

It's so cold and raw out, I don't

want him getting sick at the game.

Fed him already.

All of his bits are on

the table over there.

He'll be nice and warm in here.

Thank you, Alice.

Bottom of the 1st.

The skies are leaden

now. Pretty threatening.

Eddie Stanky, safe at first.

And Jackie Robinson

stepping to the plate.

There's a slight

breeze coming in from

right field, blowing towards left.

It shouldn't give

much of an advantage

to the right-handed hitters.

Hey. Nigger.

Black nigger.

Hey, why don't you go back to the

cotton fields where

you come from, huh?

I saw you swing your

way out of a jungle.

Chapman, the Phillies

manager, seems to

be chirping something

out to Robinson.

Chapman, a hothead during

his playing days...

has carried that reputation

right into his managing.

He's got half a mind, Jackie.

Take that monkey out now.

You all right? You

don't look all right.

Nigger, nigger, nigger.

Come on, nigger, nigger, nigger.

Whoa.

Welcome to the big leagues, rook.

Come on, now, get up.

Can't take the heat, get

out of the kitchen, rook.

Right, Bobby, heh?

Those are nice dance

moves, Bojangles.

Leave your hat on

the ground, maybe

somebody'll throw some

money in it, huh?

Put on a little show, nigger.

Do a little shuffle.

- Come on, midnight.

- He's all right, he's all right.

All right, nigger.

Let's do this. You ought to

be careful in this sunshine.

Tar baby skin gonna melt.

- Whoa.

- You can't hit that?

One more. Strike him.

Why don't you get that boy

that you sent down...

to the International League, huh?

That's where Africans

play, ain't it?

Who was that?

Who'd you put out

of a job, nigger?

Come on, Jackie.

Robinson, waiting for the pitch.

Swings, and it's a fly

ball out to left.

Ennis settles under

it for the out.

Sky's starting to clear now, the

sun pushing its way through.

Nigger can't play.

It's all right, he can take it.

God built him to last.

No score, bottom of the 4th.

Spider Jorgensen taking

a small lead off first.

Jorgensen, a rookie, spent

last season in Montreal.

Here's the pitch.

And Stanky lines a single

out to right field.

Three.

Hung low. Now there you go.

Next up for the Dodgers:

Jackie Robinson.

Hey.

Hey, Pee Wee.

Hey, what's this nigger

doing for you all...

that you let him drink out of

the same water fountain as you?

Huh?

I hope you don't take

showers with him.

Because you gonna be a mess.

Hey, Nigger.

You like white women, huh?

Hey, which one of these Dodger

wives are you climbing on tonight?

Time.

Wait, timeout, hold on.

He's gotta take a nap.

Hey, which one is it?

I think I know.

Dixie?

Sorry. Dixie, I hate to

be the one to tell you.

I saw her walking earlier with a

little bit of a bow in her step.

It'll be fine.

It'll be fine. He looks

like a nice boy.

That right, boy?

Come on, nigger, nigger, nigger.

Two men on for Robinson.

Here's the pitch from Leonard.

Swung on, and it's a

towering infield pop-up.

Seminick settles under it.

- Hey, is that a home run?

- Yeah.

If you're playing in

an elevator shaft.

Can of corn, and Robinson is out.

You don't belong here, nigger.

You hear me? Why don't

you look in the mirror?

This a white man's game.

All right? Get that through

your thick monkey skull.

Look at me, baby.

Look at me, baby. Look at me.

No.

No.

The next white son of a bitch

that opens his mouth...

I'll smash his goddamn teeth in.

You can't do that, Jack.

I'm supposed to just

let this go on?

These men have to

live with themselves.

I have to live with myself too.

Right now I'm living

a sermon out there.

You don't matter now, Jack.

You're in this thing.

You don't have the right to pull

out from the backing of people...

that believe in you, that

respect you, that need you.

Is that so?

If you fight, they won't say

that Chapman forced you to.

They'll say that

you're in over your

head. That you don't belong here.

Do you know what it's like

having somebody do this to you?

No.

No.

You do.

You're the one...

living the sermon.

In the wilderness.

Forty days.

All of it.

Only you.

There's not a goddamn

thing I can do about it.

Of course there is.

You can get out there and hit.

You can get on base and score.

You can win this game for us.

We need you.

Everybody needs you.

You're medicine, Jack.

Let's go, fellas.

They're taking the field.

Now, get out there.

Be smart, fellas.

Let's go.

Who's playing first?

I'm gonna need a new bat.

Eight zeros on the

scoreboard for the

Phillies, seven for the Dodgers.

No score, with the bottom

of the 8th coming up.

All right, nigger.

Hey, boy.

Porch monkey.

Hey, nigger, I know

you can hear me.

You know what you're here

for, don't you, huh?

You're here to get the nigger

dollars for Rickey at the gate.

You don't belong here, nigger.

Sit down. You sit down

or I sit you down.

What's the problem, Stank?

You're the problem, you disgrace.

What the hell kind of man are you?

You know he can't

fight back. Why don't

you try picking on

someone who can.

I'm not gonna fight you, get

thrown out of the game.

Stanky now having a chin-wag

with his ex-team-mate Chapman.

Both men, masters of distraction.

Stanky from second and

Chapman from the dugout.

We'll have to wait and see

what the umpire does...

since he's well within his

rights to kick Stanky out.

Hey, 12. That's enough.

Back to the dugout.

You shut your mouth

or I shut it for you.

This ain't happening.

Hey, Stank? What's it like

being a nigger's nigger?

I don't know, Chapman. What's it

like to be a redneck

piece of shit?

Robinson up.

Here's the pitch.

And Jack pokes a soft

hit past second.

Sorry.

Not much of a hit to speak of,

but Jackie is standing on first.

Go, Jackie.

Centre fielder, number

7, Pete Reiser.

Mr Pete Reiser steps up

into the batter's box.

Robinson with another

big lead off first.

He's just as restless as

a cat with a hot foot.

Back.

- Whoa.

- Safe.

The Flatbush faithful voicing

their approval of Jack...

as this type of scrappy play...

is exactly what they've grown to

expect of their beloved Bums.

Play now.

Work it.

Steal it, sweetheart. Take it.

- Strike three, you're out.

- He's going.

- Down.

- Safe.

The Dodgers, with an

excellent chance...

as Robinson has willed himself

into scoring position.

Thattaboy.

Young Gene Hermanski steps to

the plate, playing right today.

Come on.

Hermanski cracks a

single to left...

and Robinson is able to trot

home for the first run...

that may also be the decider.

All right.

- Jackie.

- All right.

Hey, Robinson.

Thanks.

For what?

You're on my team. What the

hell am I supposed to do?

Nice hit.

All this fuss over a rookie.

What, he's got 10, 12 at bats.

You all gonna spoil him.

Chapman, do you think

it cost you the game?

No. I think that a single out to

the left field cost us the game.

You think you were a

little hard on Robinson?

No. Look, we treat him the same

way we treat Hank Greenberg...

except we call him a

kike instead of a Coon.

Whenever we play exhibitions

with the Yankees...

we call Joe DiMaggio "The Wop."

All right? They laugh about it.

And it's forgotten

when the game's over.

I don't care if they like me.

I didn't come here

to make friends.

I don't even care if they

respect me. I know who I am.

Got enough respect for myself.

But I do not want them to beat me.

They're never gonna beat you.

They came close today.

I'm going in that Phillies

dugout tomorrow...

and I'm gonna wring

Ben Chapman's neck.

Did I say something funny?

When I first told you

about Robinson, Harold...

you were against it.

Now, all of the sudden

you're worried about him.

Wonder how that happened.

Why, any decent-minded

person would...

Sympathy, Harold.

It's a Greek word. It

means "to suffer."

"I sympathise with you"

means "I suffer with you."

That Philadelphia manager is...

He's doing me a service.

- A service?

- Yes.

He's creating sympathy

on Jackie's behalf.

"Philadelphia" is Greek.

Means "brotherly love."

Bob Bragan to see you, Mr Rickey.

What in Satan's fire does he want?

All right, send him in.

What do you want, Bragan?

Mr Rickey, I...

- I would like...

- What do you want?

I'd like to not be traded, sir.

If it's not too late.

What about Robinson?

The world's changing.

I guess I can live

with the change.

I mean, I can't believe it. I

speak my mind, and they trade me.

This ain't the America I know.

Home of the free, land of

the brave? You hear me?

Where they sending you, Hig?

Pittsburgh.

For cash and some Italian

outfielder named Gionfriddo.

Pittsburgh. I mean...

Good luck, boys.

You gonna need it.

Pittsburgh.

Branch, it's Herb.

Herb. What can I do for you?

Branch, how long have

we known each other?

Oh, 20 years, maybe more.

That's right. Been over

some solid road together.

So, urn, you can

trust me when I tell

you Brooklyn's due

here tomorrow...

but you cannot bring

that nigger down here...

with the rest of your team.

Why's that, Herb?

His name is Jackie

Robinson, by the way.

Yeah, Branch, I understand

he's got a name...

but we're just not ready for that

sort of thing here

in Philadelphia.

We're not gonna be

able to take the field

against your team if

that boy's in uniform.

Well, what you do with your

team is your decision, Herb.

But my team's gonna be in

Philadelphia tomorrow...

with Robinson.

And if we have to claim the

game as a forfeit, so be it.

That's 9-0...

in case you forgot.

You've had a hell of a hair across

your ass over this

for a long time.

I'd like to know what it

is you're trying to prove.

You think God likes

baseball, Herb?

What? What the hell is

that supposed to mean?

It means someday you're

gonna meet God...

and when he inquires as why

you didn't take the field...

against Robinson

in Philadelphia...

and you answer that it's

because he was a Negro...

it may not be a sufficient reply.

Okay, guys, we got

20 minutes to check

in and get to Shibe, so chop-chop.

Hey.

Hey. Out.

And get that bus out of here.

Oh, no, no, no, we have

reservations. We're the Dodgers.

No, your team is not

welcome here. Not

while you have ball

club Negroes with you.

You just mean that Robinson

can't stay, right?

No, I mean your entire

team has been refused.

We've been staying

here for 10 years.

And you can stay

away that long too.

Hold on. Now, wait, we

should talk about this.

Who put you up to this?

Is it the Phillies?

They're not gonna let

us stay here, fellas.

They don't want us here.

Yeah, well maybe 42's got enough

friends in town we can bunk up.

It's the rule we're gonna go with.

We've got reservations.

- Why is that?

- That is the rule.

What's that supposed to mean?

It's not supposed to mean a thing.

When you can't get in hotels, you

got people's houses you stay at.

Ain't that right?

What?

What do you want from me, Walker?

An apology.

You want an apology? For what?

For places like this?

No. For turning this season

into a damn sideshow.

- Hey, fellas.

- I'm a ballplayer, all right?

- I'm here to play ball.

- So am I.

I'm here to win.

We want to win. We

on the same page?

Well, how we supposed to

win sleeping on a bus?

Maybe it'll do you some good the

way you been swinging the bat.

- Hey, you watch your mouth.

- Hey, you watch your hand.

Don't you ever talk to

me like that again.

Watch your hand.

You hear me? Watch yourself.

You spit on me now?

If I spit on you, it'd

be an improvement.

That's it. You go home, all right?

All right, that's enough.

Hey, hey. Get used to it,

fellas. This how it's gonna be.

We show up, the circus is in town.

I'm not going anywhere.

I'm right here.

"There is a great

lynch mob among us.

They go unhooded and

work without a rope."

That's you, not me.

"We must remember that all

this country's enemies...

are not beyond the frontiers

of our homeland."

A Jew probably wrote that.

I don't care who wrote it.

It's in the damn papers.

This is not good, Ben.

Makes the entire Phillies

organisation look racist.

You gotta do something about it.

Me? Look, I'm defending baseball.

It's time for you to step

up and defend the Phillies.

This started on the

field, it's gonna end on

the field, and we're

done talking about it.

All right.

- Hey, fellas.

- Hey.

Excuse me. Hi. Jackie.

Wendell...

A request came in.

Ben Chapman, he's the, manager

for the Phillies. You knew that.

He'd like his photo

taken with you.

You been drinking, Harold?

No. No. I wish.

No, Mr Rickey, he thinks

it's a good idea.

He says it's gonna be in every

sports page across the country.

An example that even the most

hardened man can change.

Chapman hasn't changed. He's

just trying to save face.

Mr Rickey says it doesn't

matter if he's changed.

As long as it looks

like he's changed.

Jackie, you've seen the

questions come in slow.

Now, just see this photo

come in even slower.

Chapman said he'd

come down here. Or,

he could meet you in the runway.

No.

On the field.

Where everyone can see.

Did World War Ill break out?

Look at all of you all.

They even dug you up, Baum.

This must be important.

Listen, I want to say something...

Jackie's been accepted

into baseball...

and the Philadelphia organisation

wish him all the luck that we can.

I just hope that our trial of

fire has helped him along.

How about a picture? You shake

hands. Bury the hatchet.

You wanna bury the hatchet?

Sure.

We'll use a bat.

That way we don't

have to touch skin.

- All right.

- Come on, fellas.

- All right, do it.

- That's good. Right here.

One more. This way, Ben.

It's Ostermueller on the mound.

Ostermueller, deliberate.

What I mean to say

is, he's one of the

slowest working

pitchers in the game.

Here's the windup. And...

Oh, my. He hit Jackie

Robinson right

in the head. And Jackie is down.

What are you doing out

there, Ostermueller?

Hey.

Ostermueller, you creep. You gotta

bat too. Don't you forget it.

Hey, I'm ready, you wop bastard.

Oh, yeah? "Wop bastard"? It's

coming between your eyes.

- I'm gonna come like a kamikaze.

- He doesn't belong here.

Get off. Knock it off.

I'll send you back to

Schmeling and Goering...

and the rest of your

dead Kraut buddies.

You want some, Piner?

He doesn't belong here.

They're just ignorant.

If they knew you, they

would be ashamed.

What can I do for you, Pee Wee?

Well, Mr Rickey, it's like this.

The series in

Cincinnati next week?

Yes. Important road trip.

We're only three

games out of first.

Yes, sir.

Now, you know I'm from Kentucky.

Then Cincinnati will nearly

be a home game for you.

Well...

I got this letter.

Apparently, some people aren't too

happy about me playing

with Robinson.

Huh?

"Nigger lover.

Watch yourself.

We'll get you, carpetbagger."

Pretty typical stuff.

Well, it's not typical to me, sir.

How many of those letters

have you gotten, Pee Wee?

Just the one. Ain't that enough?

What are those?

Well, I'll tell you

what they aren't.

They aren't letters from the

Jackie Robinson fan club.

"Get out of baseball or

your baby boy will die."

"Quit baseball or

your nigger wife..."

"Get out of the

game or be killed."

Does Jackie know?

Well, of course he does.

And the FBI.

They're taking a threat in

Cincinnati pretty seriously.

So excuse me if I

don't get too upset

about you getting

called a carpetbagger.

You should be proud.

Well, I'd just like to play

ball, sir. That's all.

Oh, I understand.

I bet Jackie just

wants to play ball.

I bet he wishes he wasn't leading

the League in hit by pitch.

I bet he wishes people

didn't want to kill him.

The world's not so

simple any more.

Guess it never was.

We just...

Baseball ignored it, now we can't.

Yes, sir.

No hits, no runs for the Dodgers.

The Reds are coming to bat.

How many times do you think

Pee Wee's gonna score?

Well, I don't know, son.

I remember when I was

a kid, I saw Honus

Wagner play, scored

three times that day.

- We'll just have to wait and see.

- Wow, that would be great.

We don't want you here.

Hey. Hey, Nigger boy.

Get the hell out of Cincinnati.

We don't want you here.

Go back to Brooklyn.

You the batboy, sambo?

Hey, nigger. I'm talking to you.

Get the hell out of Cincinnati.

We don't want you here, boy.

Nigger.

We don't want you here.

Cincinnati fans expressing their

displeasure as the

Dodgers take the field.

Jackie Robinson at first. "The

Brat" Eddie Stanky at second.

Spider Jorgensen at third. And the

Captain, Pee Wee Reese, at short.

Fans, ask any man and

they'll tell you,

the Gillette Superspeed

razor is a honey.

Maybe the sweetest shaving

razor you'll ever use.

Look sharp, feel sharp, be sharp.

We don't want no niggers here.

They can say all they want.

We're just here to play ball.

Get him off the field.

It's just a bunch of crackpots

still fighting the Civil War.

Well, we'd have won

that son of a gun

if the cornstalks

would have held out.

We just ran out of ammunition.

Better luck next time, Pee Wee.

Ain't gonna be a

next time, Jackie.

Hey, Reese. Carpetbagger.

All we got's right here. Right

now. You know what I mean?

Thank you, Jackie.

What are you thanking me for?

I got family up there

from Louisville.

I need them to know.

I need them to know who I am.

Hey, number 1.

You playing ball or socialising?

Playing ball, ump.

- Play ball.

- Don't let them get to you.

Playing ball.

Maybe tomorrow we'll all wear 42.

That way they won't tell us apart.

Come on, Jackie.

Let me ask you something, Jackie.

How come you never shower

until everybody else is done?

What are you, shy?

I don't want to make

anyone feel uncomfortable.

We're a team. On a hot streak.

Come on, half those wins

were on account of you.

You're the bravest guy I ever saw.

You're leading us, you're

afraid to take a shower? Heh.

Come on, take a shower

with me, Jackie.

I didn't mean it like...

That came out wrong. I was not

saying just take a shower with me.

I was saying, why don't we

all go and take a shower.

- Like, why?

- Heh.

As a team, why don't

we shower together.

- Heh. Branca?

- Yeah.

- Stop.

- Yeah.

I'm stopping.

We're in the last of a four-game

series with the Cardinals.

These two teams are in

a dogfight for first.

Top of the 11th now,

all tied up at 2.

For those of you just tuning

in, how did we get here?

Well, it's been double trouble...

as Robinson knocked in Stanky

with a double in the 3rd.

Shoot two. Shoot two.

And Dixie Walker did the same

with a double in the 8th.

Second base. Second base.

But it wasn't enough...

as the Cardinals tied it up with

two of their own in the 9th.

This game is crucial

to the Red Birds.

They are five games out...

with the Dodgers not

having relinquished

first place since June 30th.

They call him "Country."

Slaughter's hitless in

four trips. "Fireman"

Casey in his second

inning of relief.

This game is just as tight as a

new pair of shoes on a rainy day.

Casey goes into his windup.

Slaughter hits a hard

ground ball right at

Reese, who fires it

over to Jack at first.

Oh, my.

Robinson is down.

Slaughter spiked him

high up on the leg and he is down.

Goddamn it. You knew what you

were doing. You spiked my guy.

Get up, Jackie.

Get him up, boys, get him up.

Stay off it. Team doc will be out.

Hugh, next guy up,

you hit him right

in the head. You clean his clock.

No. Get me up.

No, lay down, man. You're staying.

No. Get me up.

Easy, kid.

Just get him out.

Just get him out.

Understand?

Game's too important.

Just get him out.

Go play ball.

- You a tough man, Jackie.

- Let's get him out.

Jackie, what are saying?

He spiked you on purpose?

You saw the play.

My foot was on the inside of the

bag, he was out, but

he kept coming.

It was on purpose?

Slaughter said it was an accident.

What are you asking me for then?

Are you calling Slaughter a liar?

Is he a liar?

Am I calling him a liar?

What are you gonna write?

Get out of here. Get out.

Come on, Rickey, let

him finish the story.

Go on, let me talk

to my first baseman.

- Is he a liar, Jackie?

- Go.

All right, all right.

Getting stitched up,

for Pete's sake.

Just trying to do our job, Rickey.

- Looks good, Babe.

- Thank you, sir.

Sticking up for himself is

something you'd expect of any man.

Some find it galling in a Negro.

You know what I saw this morning?

I was passing a sandlot, little

white boy was up at bat.

You know what he was doing?

Sitting on a fastball?

He was pretending he was you.

Rubbing dirt on his hands.

Swinging with his arms

outstretched, like you do.

Little white boy pretending

he is a black man.

Why'd you do this, Mr Rickey?

We had a victory over

fascism in Germany.

It's time we had a victory

over racism at home.

No.

Why?

Why'd you do it?

Come on.

Tell me.

I love this game.

I love baseball.

Given my whole life to it.

Forty-odd years ago,

I was a player-coach

at Ohio Wesleyan University.

We had a Negro catcher.

Best hitter on the team.

Charlie Thomas. Fine young man.

I saw him laid low,

broken, because

of the colour of his skin.

And I didn't do enough to help.

Told myself I did, but I didn't.

There was something unfair at

the heart of the game I loved.

And I ignored it.

But a time came...

when I could no longer do that.

You...

You let me love baseball again.

Thank you.

Last long road trip of the year.

And two long faces, huh?

Try not to lunge at the plate.

You serious?

That's why they're throwing

the fastballs inside.

Fight those inside

fastballs off...

sooner or later they won't be

able to help but throw a curve.

And what'll happen then, coach?

Is that right?

Well, you know, if we win

enough of these next games...

we bring home the pennant.

You bring yourself home.

That'll be plenty.

You're in my heart.

Since the 4th of

July, the Brooklyn

Dodgers have gone

on a hot streak...

holding off all challengers.

During that time and

during this season...

I have watched Jackie

Robinson submerge himself...

to serve something greater.

And I don't mean the Brooklyn

Dodgers, though he's

doing that too.

The man flat-out has guts.

A stand-up force of nature, he's

complicated everything

but himself.

He's changing the world and

refusing to let it change him.

But baseball isn't tennis.

It takes a team.

Joining together was a start.

Staying together, a

big step forward.

But working together

is how you win.

Out.

Jackie, you son of a

gun, I could kiss you.

Nice catch.

Yours or mine? Heh.

Down the stretch on the last

long road trip of the year...

Jackie Robinson and the Brooklyn

Dodgers are doing exactly that.

They're holding off the Cardinals

and streaking towards the pennant.

Boss, we did it.

We did it, we swept Cincinnati.

Great, Harold.

One more win could do it.

Who's pitching tomorrow

for the Pirates?

Ostermueller.

Fritz Ostermueller on the mound.

He's 12-8 on the season.

A big game today in Pittsburgh.

A win and the Dodgers will have

clinched the National

League pennant...

Yankees having already clinched

in the American League.

There's bad blood here...

as Ostermueller beaned Robinson in

the head earlier in the season...

prompting quite a

rhubarb at the time.

Teams have gone their

separate ways since...

with Ostermueller left standing

in the Dodgers' way...

as they chase the pennant

that eluded them last year.

Come on, Jackie, let's go.

Here comes the pitch.

And Robinson takes

outside. Ball one.

Come on, Fritz,

let's get this boy.

You don't belong here.

And you never will.

Robinson crowding the plate.

Jack hasn't backed down

to a pitcher all season.

There you go, Jackie.

You got nothing for

him, Ostermueller.

But he's got something for you.

Ostermueller winds and throws.

Low and away, ball two.

Fritz seems to be

pitching around Jackie...

or as they say in the trade,

trying to get him to chase.

Robinson's having a

fine rookie standard...

batting .301 with 31

doubles and 10 home runs.

He has stolen 27 bases

this season and

has yet to be thrown

out attempting.

Needless to say, Ostermueller

being careful with him.

It's 3-0 now.

Robinson patient, waiting for

something he can swing on.

Give me something.

Give me something I can hit.

You want it?

What are you afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

Ostermueller looking

in for the sign.

Be careful what you ask for, boy.

And here comes the pitch.

Oh, and that's a deep

fly ball to left.

Kiner on his horse, I don't

think he'll get there.

Back, back, back, and...

Oh, ho, ho, doctor.

Robinson got his pitch.

It's a home run.

And barring a miracle comeback...

the Dodgers are going

to the World Series.

Yes.

He did it, he did it.

Pittsburgh.

Yes.

Way to go, Jackie.

Jack in his home run trot now, and

the home crowd here at Forbes...

recognising something

special when they see it.

All the same, I can

practically hear the roar...

from the heart of Flatbush

back in Brooklyn.

Jackie, yeah, yeah.

Robinson rounds third...

headed for home...

sweet home.