I've only read a few articles about him, but either article refers to him as a bigot, or the savior of the franchise.
I see your point. Still, the sham that supposedly was the "tryout" for Jackie Robinson, and passing on Willie Mays, who purportedly could have been had first by the Red Sox for $5,000, those things were so overwhelmingly damning, no matter what else he did. I guess you could say he did save the franchise, but, another one of his philosophies, concentrating on bringing in or developing right hand power hitters like Foxx, York, Vern Stephens, Gernert, Stuart, etc. while mostly ignoring pitching (some exceptions, like Lefty Grove and Wes Ferrell early on) hurt the Sox' chances (not that Foxx, in particular, wasn't one to lust after any time you could get someone like him). My God, the 1950 team hit .302 and OPS'd .848, and they finished in third place! Bringing in Schilling and Foulke to go with Pedro and the others, finally broke the curse.Expect this topic can become controversial.
Bigot: Sure. Well documented, and I will not defend his reprehensible views in any way. However, he was hardly alone along MLB owners during the era stretching from the 1930's to the 1960's. Part of the problem is that Yawkey stuck around until 1976, and his wife was no better. Then there were so many Yawkey hold overs running things in the front office that it really took the sale of the franchise to truly cleanse the team's culture, although by some accounts things had improved during the Duquette years.
Savior of the franchise: Well, the fact remains that Yawkey did buy the Red Sox at a time when the survival of the franchise was in question. It was during the height of the Great Depression, Fenway had been badly damaged in a fire, the team had long ago sold off their stars. The team had lost more than 100 games 5 times in 8 years, and more than 90 in those other 3. Could another wealthy white male business with more enlightened views bought the franchise at the time and rescued the franchise in the same way? I guess it's theoretically possible, but I'd be skeptical that such folks were lining up to buy anything given the economics of the time.
I sometimes wonder if Yawkey would have been given a pass on the bigotry front, no matter his actual views and behavior, had he died or sold the team in the 1960's.
Was it Yawkey's philosophies or was it the philosophies of the people around him? My impression is that Yawkey considered the team to be more of a hobby and not a business and he really didn't know that much about roster construction. I also got the impression that he hired people based upon likability and not on ability.I see your point. Still, the sham that supposedly was the "tryout" for Jackie Robinson, and passing on Willie Mays, who purportedly could have been had first by the Red Sox for $5,000, those things were so overwhelmingly damning, no matter what else he did. I guess you could say he did save the franchise, but, another one of his philosophies, concentrating on bringing in or developing right hand power hitters like Foxx, York, Vern Stephens, Gernert, Stuart, etc. while mostly ignoring pitching (some exceptions, like Lefty Grove and Wes Ferrell early on) hurt the Sox' chances (not that Foxx, in particular, wasn't one to lust after any time you could get someone like him). My God, the 1950 team hit .302 and OPS'd .848, and they finished in third place! Bringing in Schilling and Foulke to go with Pedro and the others, finally broke the curse.
Maybe that's right. I have read that Eddie Collins, Yawkey's first GM and the guy who recommended to Yawkey that he buy the Red Sox, was very adamant about signing no black players (Wiki says Howard Bryant wrote he was the same way toward Jews and Catholic (seriously?). As for Yawkey letting his minions do all the roster construction, etc., I've always felt that the guy at the top is ultimately responsible for everything major that goes on in an organization. The Red Sox being the last to sign a black player, Pumpsie Green in 1959, who wasn't even good, has to be a reflection on Yawkey himself.Was it Yawkey's philosophies or was it the philosophies of the people around him? My impression is that Yawkey considered the team to be more of a hobby and not a business and he really didn't know that much about roster construction. I also got the impression that he hired people based upon likability and not on ability.
He really wasn't Southern, though. His family had an estate (plantation?) in South Carolina where Yawkey would spend time, but he was born in Detroit, moved to New York as a kid, went to a prep school in Westchester, N.Y., and then to Yale.As a southern man growing up in that time period being a bigot would not be unusual.
http://www.baseball-almanac.com/teams/rsoxatte.shtml
I had no idea about most of this. It was interesting reading about him. The Tom Yawkey Wildlife Center in South Carolina is the largest preserve ever gifted to the State. On top of being a bigot, he apparently liked birds and alligators.He really wasn't Southern, though. His family had an estate (plantation?) in South Carolina where Yawkey would spend time, but he was born in Detroit, moved to New York as a kid, went to a prep school in Westchester, N.Y., and then to Yale.
Terry Francona, Youk, and Manny were gone and John Farrell was the manager before busing was (mostly) ended in Boston.Let's not pretend that Tom Yawkey was a bigot sitting alone on an island. Fingers can be pointed at a lot of other prominent people when it comes to race issues in Boston, which was in the midst of busing problems when Yawkey died.
Terry Francona, Youk, and Manny were gone and John Farrell was the manager before busing was (mostly) ended in Boston.
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/15/education/boston-schools-adopt-new-placement-plan-for-students.html
I think our recently dearly departed Frank Malzone would agree with that. New England folk like to make a lot of fun about the south, but it was no picnic being Italian, Irish, Catholic, French, Black, or Native American even until very recently.....(Wiki says Howard Bryant wrote he was the same way toward Jews and Catholic (seriously?)....
For sure .. Virtually all the black American stars the RedSox had post 67 ended up being traded .. Reggie Smith, Cecil Cooper, George Scott , Ferguson Jenkins,Tommy Harper to name just a few obvious ones.I think our recently dearly departed Frank Malzone would agree with that. New England folk like to make a lot of fun about the south, but it was no picnic being Italian, Irish, Catholic, French, Black, or Native American even until very recently.
Take a look at some late 70's Red Sox team pictures to see how the policies and attitudes of the previous decades held over.
Hey Opes,Thanks. I more or less was asking for people's personal opinions on him. Sorry, I should have clarified.
He died of leukemia, according to the Globe's obituary. I'm not aware of a connection between that cancer and alcoholism.Yawkey was an alcoholic who did not stop drinking until the mid-sixties. (In fact he fell off the wagon at the Red Sox pennant winning party in 1975, according to Pete Gammons, and he was dead a year later.)
You didn't have to be "courageous" or "imaginative" in 1955 to have a black guy on your team. Just not so racist, or maybe not have your obviously racist buddies run your organization.I don't think Yawkey was uniquely racist or bigoted among major league owners of that era. It took an imaginative and courageous executive in Branch Rickey to sign Jackie Robinson, and the Red Sox were neither imaginative nor courageous during the 1933-1966 era.
Perhaps. But it went into a severe hibernation until Duquette and Mo Vaughn came along.It was under O'Connell and not Duquette nor John Henry that the basic change occurred.
First, excellent post detailing some of the contradictions behind Tom Yawkey. I don't disagree with your overall points. However, there is more that goes beyond the history you described. Yes, it is true the Red Sox started to scout and sign black players in the 1960's. But some notable black players did express the difficulties they had in playing for Boston during the 1960's and 70's: Reggie Smith and Tommy Harper being two notable examples. There were rumors that black players from other teams would nearly always put Boston on their "no trade" list, or tell their agents that they would not go to Boston as a free agent. And that occurred even during the 1980's; Harper was fired for simply mentioning the fact that the Red Sox associated with a whites-only chapter of the Elks club in Winter Haven in 1985. Tom Yawkey was long dead, but many of his racist cronies were still in key roles up through the 1980's....
The fundamental change in the Red Sox attitude toward signing black players came when Yawkey, now a recovering alchoholic, replaced Higgins with Dick O'Connell in the mid-sixties. It was under O'Connell and not Duquette nor John Henry that the basic change occurred.
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Great article Mark! I always enjoy reading your writing.I wrote an article about Yawkey for SABR. Short version: I am much more sympathetic than the current prevalent view.
http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/6382f9d5
OK but the Celtics were the complete opposite. So you have two teams and their leaders, one giving in to either personal racial animus or that of his associates, and generally sucking at their primary objective, and another completely ignoring barriers, the context of racially charged Boston, and blazing a trail for black athletes. And winning at a level not seen outside of UCLA hoops, as it happens. Maybe the Celtics suffered financially or in some other way, but I would guess not. To me, you have the enlightened team-building actions and the utterly unenlightened ones, side by side, in stark contrast.
The (in)famous busing photo taken three months before Tom Yawkey died.
Boston was a much different city back then. Tom Yawkey was not alone.
No offense personally, but this seems like a pretty big whitewash, no pun intended. You briefly touch overall on the issue of race, but made no reference to "Get those n-----s off the field!" at the sham Jackie Robinson tryout -- if Yawkey himself didn't say it, apparently somebody did -- no reference to the fact they passed on Willie Mays and none to the fact that Yawkey hired Pinky Higgins, a proud racist who made no bones about that fact to the press, both as manager and later GM.I wrote an article about Yawkey for SABR. Short version: I am much more sympathetic than the current prevalent view.
http://sabr.org/bioproj/person/6382f9d5
That's true! It's also a 100% different point than the one I made, and I doubt anyone would ever suggest for a second that the Celtics' behavior disproved the existence of racism in Boston. It disproved the existence of racism in the Celtics' locker room, but that's it. Did you think that's what I was saying???As for the Celtics, Boston hated Bill Russell and Bill Russell hated Boston. This is well documented and remained true until recently. Obviously you can still praise the Celtics approach, but don't for one minute think that the Celtics success somehow disproves the idea that Boston was racist, or that the Celtics success made Bostonians think fondly of black people in the 60s.
No offense taken. I acknowledge that your view has become the dominant one on this issue. This is hard issue for me to "argue" since the facts of the situation are largely open to interpretation. I will add a few things.No offense personally, but this seems like a pretty big whitewash, no pun intended. You briefly touch overall on the issue of race, but made no reference to "Get those n-----s off the field!" at the sham Jackie Robinson tryout -- if Yawkey himself didn't say it, apparently somebody did -- no reference to the fact they passed on Willie Mays and none to the fact that Yawkey hired Pinky Higgins, a proud racist who made no bones about that fact to the press, both as manager and later GM.
Before the start of the 1945 season Joe Cronin played a small role in a notorious historical event, an event more important than he or anyone else thought it would be at the time. On April 16, a Monday morning, the Red Sox conducted a tryout for three players from the Negro Leagues--Jackie Robinson of the Kansas City Monarchs, Sam Jethroe of the Cleveland Buckeyes, and Marvin Williams of the Philadelphia Stars. Robinson had just begun his first year with the Monarchs, but was already famous as a college football star at UCLA before the war. There had not been an African-American player in the major leagues in 60 years, though not because of any public or written policy.
The Red Sox' decision to hold the tryout was neither serious nor well-intentioned. They were pressured into staging the tryout by Boston City Councilman Isadore Muchnick, who had been pressing the issue for a few years. While there had been a few voices fighting for integrating baseball for many years, the cause began to gather momentum during the war, in which black men lost their lives fighting for the freedom of oppressed people in other nations. In 1944 Muchnick threatened action that would disallow the Red Sox and Braves from playing home games on Sundays unless the teams held tryouts for Negro Leaguers. Eddie Collins was taken aback, claiming, "We have never had a single request for a try-out from a colored applicant."
With the aid of Wendell Smith, a writer for the Pittsburgh Courier who was familiar with the players in the Negro Leagues, Muchnick spent a year working on his plan. In March 1945 Muchnick again threatened to revoke Sunday baseball in the city, and this time he had players ready and willing to try out. The Red Sox reluctantly agreed. The tryout was supposed to be on April 12, but it took four days and some additional prodding before it actually took place. The Red Sox were to open the season in New York on April 17, the following day.
In the event, the proceedings lasted about 90 minutes. The three players first met briefly with Eddie Collins, then batted and fielded under the direction of coach Larry Woodall and scout Hugh Duffy. Joe Cronin watched from the stands, and was particularly impressed with the play of Robinson. "He's good and fast--fast as, well, Jack Robinson," said Cronin, using an expression of the time. All three men were thanked for their time and sent on their way. None of them ever heard from the Red Sox again. A few months later Robinson signed a contract with the Montreal Royals, the International League affiliate of the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Thirty-four years later, Boston Globe writer Clif Keane claimed that he had attended the tryout, and that he had heard a booming voice yell out, "Get those niggers off the field." Keane did not identify the voice, although he suggested it belonged to one of three people: Yawkey, Collins, or Cronin. This stunning claim rejuvenated the story, and has led to 30 years of speculation as to the speaker.
In fact, Keane probably made the story up. There were reportedly several other people present that day, including a few white players who were also trying out, other reporters, coaches, and the three black players--none of whom ever mentioned hearing anything like what Keane reported. Jackie Robinson wrote about the tryout many times, and he was quite bitter about the Red Sox' actions for the rest of his life. One can be sure that Robinson would not have kept this story quiet, and the same could be said for many of the other people there.
And what of Clif Keane? Just prior to making his claim in 1979, Keane had referred to Red Sox first baseman George Scott as a "bush nigger" in the Red Sox clubhouse, and had joked about Scott's diet of watermelon and fried chicken on a local radio show. Art Rust, Jr. had recently written a book on black baseball, Get That Nigger Off The Field, bringing to light a profane exclamation used by Cap Anson in 1888. Keane's use of a strikingly similar phrase just a few years after Rust's book, in the midst of his own bigoted comments, should be enough to dismiss, or at least seriously doubt, his bold claims.
We know what Joe Cronin was doing during the tryout. He was sitting with Wendell Smith, who wrote about their lengthy interaction in his newspaper a few days later. According to Smith, Cronin and Collins spoke cordially with the players when they arrived at Fenway Park, and the men were treated well by the team. Cronin sat with Smith while the players practiced, and was particularly interested by Robinson. "I saw him play football at UCLA, and he was great," Cronin told the writer. Both Duffy and Cronin praised the players, but Cronin would not say for certain that they were major-league ready. He cautioned Smith that the club's minor-league affiliates were mostly in the South (Scranton, Pennsylvania was the lone exception) and would not allow black players. Smith did not mention, either then or later, anyone shouting racial invective.
In America's shameful history of segregation, this story is not particularly noteworthy. The tryout was largely a sham. The Red Sox, like the other 15 major league teams, and all big-time professional football and basketball teams, were all-white and were content to stay that way. Recent historians have tried to present this story as a shocking display of racism on the part of the Red Sox, but there was nothing shocking about it. In the context of 1945 it would have taken an act of courage and moral leadership for the Red Sox to sign Jackie Robinson or one of the other applicants in 1945.
The ill-fated tryout took on a much larger significance in the years ahead, when the Red Sox dragged their feet on integration for many years beyond the point at which courage was necessary. But in April 1945, the Red Sox behaved as major league baseball teams had been behaving for many years. They had the chance to right an egregious wrong, and they did not. This action, coupled with many unfortunate actions in the years ahead, haunted their franchise for decades.
I guess I will tackle these two points as well. Yes, they passed on Mays. But you could also write Team X passed on Hall of Famer Y for dozens of combinations of X and Y. It sucks. One thing I wrote about this years ago. The people most blamed for this issue are the people who are dead. First it was Higgins, then Yawkey, then Cronin. The last man standing was George Digby, a Red Sox scout who basically said that he found Mays, called Cronin (or Yawkey) and was told "no, we can't sign him." Maybe this happened, but did you have to wait until everyone else was dead before bringing this to our attention?no reference to the fact they passed on Willie Mays and none to the fact that Yawkey hired Pinky Higgins, a proud racist who made no bones about that fact to the press, both as manager and later GM.