It wasn't about stealing bases
When he leaned down to tie his laces,
It was all about blending races
When the players were at their worst.
He fought for civil rights without fists clenched,
And he was threatened at times to be lynched-
But the righteous Jackie never flinched
In the heat of a bitter hate burst.
He stood up and demanded men be quiet
And persuaded them finally to try it,
And once managed to stop a Harlem riot
Because he was so well-versed.
He endured police dogs in Birmingham,
Bands of bigots with a bullet-gram,
And suppressed a lion's rage to a lamb
While, by prejudiced people, he was cursed.
He was spiked at third and often bled.
Pitchers threw baseballs at his head.
He ignored death threats that were said
As a separate spigot quenched his thirct.
His strength allowed him to withstand
Teammates refusing to shake his hand.
Yet he stayed focused to his demand.
For social change that later emerged.
He opened the door for Grif, Bonds, and Mays
By enduring the game's most intolerant phase
And bettered baseball in so many ways
Because he was first.
Baseball & the Lyrical Life
Edited by Tom Colnay
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