 This is the story of a boy in his dream, but more than man. It is the story of an American boy in a dream that is truly American. The year 1928, the time spring, if you were a young man your thoughts weren't doubly turning to those of love. But if you were a young boy, your thoughts were of one thing, baseball. If you had them now reached junior Pasadena College, Pasadena Junior College. Of course, how'd I get it mixed up? Well, they wouldn't know who I'd be jumping for at the track meet tomorrow. Is that what your brother Mac won a medal for? Is that what you're talking about? Won a medal? Mom, when Mac jumped for Pasadena Junior College, he broke the national junior college record and nobody had jumped that far since. Thank you, man. Twenty-five feet, six and a half inches, Bill. Broke his brother's record. You think maybe he could jump over that Southern Cal line? He led the conference in TVs. Only there's one problem, Bill. Well, you mean the Trojans have already got him? No, no. No, he's a colored boy. I heard somebody squawking about giving colored boys too many athletic scholarships. Colored boys are all right with me if they're the right, good, clean American boy with a B average. That's the kind of a boy you're talking about. His colors are blue and gold. UCLA colors, huh? That's right, and you can tell it to Robinson for me. You're his brother, aren't you? That's right. You're Mac Robinson. I ran against you when you were at Oregon. Oh, sure. You ran for Southern Cal. Pete Shewbacke. This is my wife. Hello, Mac. How do you do? This is Ray Eisen, Jack's girl. Hello. What are you doing these days, kid? Oh, I got a good steady job. Glad to hear that. Heasing up? Yeah, a lot. Don't know what's the matter with those guys out there giving it to Jack like that. Just because he's the best half back on the field. Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Jackie, I wasn't kidding about that either. They certainly have a lot of respect for you out there. I have a lot of respect for them, too. Believe me. How's Mac been doing lately? I always liked Mac. Mac? Oh, Mac's doing fine. Been waiting long? No, just got here. Somebody told me you got an honorable mention on the All-American. Did I? Somebody else told me you cut class this morning. Could be. Was it because you worked late last night? Not because I want to see about a better job, a full-time job. Why now? You still got some time before you graduate. If I graduate. Oh. Suppose I finish out the year. I'm no further along than when I started. No closer to getting a half decent job so I can afford to get married. Who are you thinking you're marrying, Mr. Robinson? Oh, you know who. Your mother will take it hard if you quit school now. Yes, I know. You ought to talk to her before you do anything and to Mac. Yeah. It was Mac I was thinking of. Well, if you just wait till June and get your diploma. A lot of good of college education did Mac. Oh, Mac's all right. He's got a job. Yeah. A good steady job. I fix you some lunch. Here, catch. Man, that's really smart signal calling. I thought you'd be hungry. I'm always hungry. For a while, have you been bothering you? I want to quit college. Right after the basketball season. What for? I got to get a job. I want to marry Ray. School's one thing, but you and Mom can't support Ray, too. Can't wait till you graduate. What good will a degree do me? They're not hiring colored football coaches. Not our color, anyway. Don't you want to play baseball this season? What good will that do me? Baseball's one sport they'll never let me in. That's your best sport, too. I wonder if there's any place where they will let you in. There's one place nobody draws a color line. Yeah, great job for a college man. It may not be a great job, but it's steady. Thanks a lot. What's this I hear about you quitting? Yeah, right after the basketball season. We'll miss you, fella. You got a job lined up? No, I'm not yet. What about those letters we sent to the high schools? Any answers? Three. What'd they say? Well, first school didn't want me for a coach. The second school didn't want me for a coach, and the third school, they just didn't want me. Any mail for me? Five more letters. This is going to be good. Let's open them. Tickwick College doesn't want any coaches? Bane Brigida. Horton Hughes says sorry. Western state, no soap. Uh-oh. You got a job, brother. I have. What does it say? Listen to this. From the president of the United States, greetings. The right's interesting letters. Oh, yes. Listen to this, Mildred. The other day, my commanding officer called me in and told me the good news. So I'm some kind of athletic director at that, even if it's for the army. Sounds like he's happy. And he looks good, too. Miss Newpige. And a lieutenant now. That's a mighty fine job. This way till later on, dinner's almost ready. It'll only take a minute, mom. That's just like you. The first thing on top of your glove. What are you going to do with it? I don't know. Don't know if I'll ever do anything with it again. More mail again. I bet you spent 50 bucks on stamps. If it gets me a job, it'll be worth it. I don't hope Polly doesn't want any coaches. You could have guessed that. Hey, wait a minute. What is it? A job. Not the president greeting me again. No, but you read it. Now batting for the Black Panthers, Jackie Robinson shortstop. This is a new boy, Samson. Take it real easy with him. Nice and easy. Let him hit it. Yeah, I do that little thing. I don't know what's wrong with that picture today. You had an order, too, that, Samson. You make this boy mad. Never mind about shortening breath. Come on, some ham and eggs. Get ready. That's a pretty good ham. What's up with the eggs? OK, OK. We'll stop at the next drive-in. It's like this, sleeping on the bus. Most of the time, we sleep, we eat, and we play ball. Then we get on our bus and do it all over again. You got a cigarette? I can't afford to buy them. Why not? Don't you get paid like the rest of us? Yeah, I get paid a little. I've got a wife in Birmingham and have to send her every buck. Got a new baby coming in a couple of weeks, too. I sure wish I could be there. Why don't you take a week off and go? Yeah, haven't got the money. After what I send home, I just managed to make it to payday. You're breaking my heart. Here, thanks, boy. Oh, well, you get back. Well, you get back. Boys turn, rules and regulations. New boy always goes first. I guess that means you, Jackie. What will I have to do? Three things. See if we can eat inside. Two, see if we can wash up. Three, if we can't eat inside, see if they'll fix up sandwiches. Yeah, what is it? 16 of us outside on the bus. How's chances of getting something to eat? Well, I'm all alone here, Fred. I couldn't help you. I bought some sandwiches. Could we have sandwiches? Well, I, uh, how many of them did you say? 16. Well, I can make you 16 beef sandwiches and maybe the same in ham and egg. That doing it? It's swell. I bought some fried potatoes on the side, Chef. Yeah, take about 20 minutes. Thanks. Do you suppose we can wash up a bit? Sorry, it's out of order. Say, Ernie, when are they going to give me a contract with the team? Contract? You want to know about contracts with this team? Yes. Hey, fellow, this man wants to know about contracts. Contract? Fix you right up with the information. Yes, sir. Contract. Tell me about that, boy. You want a contract with the patent? The first thing you got to do? Borrow some money from the boss. Then you know you got a job until he gets paid back. If he can get in the money to get us. Yeah, and you got to keep your eye on the grandstand. When you got a good day and a good contract, good time to hit him up. You owe him a week's salary. That means you got a one-week contract. When you're one for two, that means you got a two-week contract, sir. Possibly. OK, you guys. Let's get up and get out of here and get a little more. Come on. Hey, Ernie. Sure, dear. You didn't want to care a little bit, did you? Oh, Robinson. Robinson. Can I see you? I'm Clyde Souklin of the Brooklyn Dodgers. I'd like to talk to you for a minute. What about? About you. Branch Ricky would like to see you. He would? Do you think you could get away for a day starting tonight? I guess so. Good. I'll take care of the tickets. Now, you meet me at the Union Station at 7 o'clock at the New York Game. Is that OK? Sure. That's great. Hey, who's your friend? Cal for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Oh, it's you. They signed me for the New York Gadgets once. They were going to give me a bonus to pitch for the Red Sox and then his keeper key. Some guy thinks they're funny. Yeah. Say that again. I understand this, Robinson. Don't you have a good mind? Or are you playing coy? I waited for you till I missed the train. What's the idea? You don't mean you're really with the Dodgers? No, sir. Not exactly. But I heard you were starting a colored ball team. Is that it? No. You were brought here to play with the Brooklyn Organization, Montreal, to start with. Me? Play for Montreal? I want to win pennants, and we need ball players. The war set us back a little. So three years ago, the Brooklyn Dodger management decided to scout untapped sources of supply, Mexico, Cuba, all the Latin American countries, and our own country, too. That right, Clyde? From coast to coast. Yes, for players who can help us win. Many of the men we saw were good. Some had great promise, like you. You think you can do it, Jackie? Make good and organize baseball? I got the chance. There's more here than just playing. I wish it just meant runs and hits and errors, the things you can see in a box score. A box score. You know, a box score is really democratic, Jackie. It doesn't say how big you are or how your father voted in the last election or what church you attend. It just tells you what kind of a ball player you were that day. Well, isn't that what counts? It's all that ought to come, and maybe someday it's all that will come. That's why we brought you here. I want to see if we can make a start in that direction. It'll take a lot of courage. Yeah, it sure will. It might take more courage for the organization than for you, Jackie. Have you thought of that? I haven't thought of anything. It's all so sudden. Kind of hits me straight between the eyes. Just relax, boy. There's plenty of time. Pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable. Thanks. We're tackling something big here, Jackie. If we fail, no one will fly again for 20 years. But if we succeed, if we succeed, Brooklyn will win a pennant. Yes, that too. But we're dealing with rights here, the right of any American to play baseball, the American game. You think he's our boy, Glenn? Well, he can run, he can hit, and he can field. But can he take it? Then I don't know. What do you think, Jackie? Well, I can try. Think you've got guts enough to play the game no matter what happens? They'll shout insults at you. They'll come into your spikes first. They'll throw at your head. They've been thrown in my head for a long time, Mr. Ricky. Well, I'm a player, and he's an important game. Suppose I collide with you at second base, and when I get up, I say, you dirty black soul and soul. What do you do? Mr. Ricky, do you want a ball player who's afraid to fight back? I want a ball player with guts enough not to fight back. You got to do this job with base hits, stolen bases, and fielding ground balls, Jackie. Nothing else. Now, I'm playing against you in a World Series, and I'm hot headed. I want to win this game. So I go into your spikes first. You tap the ball in my ribs, and the umpire says, I'm a player. All I can see is your black face. That black face right over me. So I fall off and punch you right in the cheek. What do you do? Mr. Ricky, I've got two cheeks. You want a contract with the black panthers? No, sir. We don't have contracts. Any agreement. Verbal are written about how long you'll play with. No, sir. Not at all. All right. I'll give you a contract before you leave. Don't sign it right away. This is a very important move. Think it over carefully. Is your mother living? Yes, sir. She's in California. Call her up. Ask her advice. We'll pay the phone bill. Yes, sir. And Jackie, remember one thing. No matter what happens on the ball field, you can't fight back. That's going to be the hard part. You can't fight back. Ellen, get Jackie Robinson's home in Pasadena, California. It's Sycamore 7, 6459. Yes, put him on, please. It's Jackie, Mom. Call him from New York. Why is he calling? Is something wrong with him? Just a minute, Mom. Hello? Jackie? How are you, kid? Are you OK? He's OK, Mom. You want to talk to Mom? I'm sure she's right here. What's the talk to you, Mom? Hello, Jackie. You all right? You got a chance for what? I can be the first Negro to ever play and organize baseball, Mom. If I'm good enough, if I can make the grade, only I'll be taking a big chance. Matt, they want Jackie to play baseball for Brooklyn. They do? Well, Jackie, I don't know what kind of advice to give you, only there must be churches in a big town like New York. Why don't you go find yourself a church and talk to the minister and see what he has to say? And, Jackie, any time you have a real problem, listen to God apply. Here, talk to your brother, Matt. He knows more about baseball than I do. Come here. Are you Reverend Carter? That's right, son. My name's Robinson, Jackie Robinson. I didn't know you're Mr. Robinson. I need some advice. Important advice. I suppose we sit down and talk this thing over. You are new to this part of the city, Mr. Robinson? I'm from California. I came to New York yesterday to see Brass Ricky. Ricky? Do you mean Mr. Ricky, the baseball man? Yes. I'm a ball player, Reverend. I've just learned that the Brooklyn Dodgers have been scouting Negro ball players for a couple of years. And Mr. Ricky thinks I'm good enough to... Well, Reverend, it just means that a colored man will be able to play on the same field with a white man for the first time. Who goes out to these ball parks, Jackie? Just white men? No. Anybody can buy a ticket, Reverend, colored or white. Tell me, Jackie. What do you think would actually happen if you were to get out on a white baseball field? I don't know. They might call me names. They might even beat me up. I don't mean what would happen to you, Jackie. I mean, what would happen to the colored people? Might start fights. Might even start a riot. That's true. On the other hand, every step forward for our people has started a fight somewhere, for a time being anyhow. This is a big thing you have to decide, Jackie, and not just for you alone. It's a big thing for the whole colored people. I know. That's why I came to you for help. A great deal depends upon you, Jackie. What kind of a man you are. I suppose upon what kind of a ball player you are, too. Well, I don't know what kind of a man I am, Reverend, but I think I'm a pretty good ball player. That might help. Yes, it might help a great deal. Especially when I had almost given you up. I should have written off, but you know how it is. You keep waiting for good news, something worth writing about. And then when this big chance came, I didn't want to tell you about it. I wanted to be sure I had the contract signed and everything. You know, sometimes when you wait for real good news, you wait forever. I guess so. I don't want to wait for that. But let's sit a minute. Let's talk it over. It's going to be real tough for a while. A lot of people don't want to need to go in baseball. I know. As soon as I make it stick, I'll come. We'll get married. No. I've asked you for your good, Jack. Now, before you stop. I can't let you do that, Ray. I've got to go south for spring training. I'll have to face that. It might not be easy. It'll be easier if we face it together. It won't be any picnic. You marry me now, and you're asking for trouble. All right, Jackie. I'll ask. This is my wife. Glad to know you. My name's Gaines. I'm an attorney here. Mr. Ricky asked me if I could help arrange accommodations for you. He did? Send a man down about a month ago to look up a place for you to stay. I won. That's very nice of you, Mr. Gaines. Oh, not at all. We're proud to have you. Your bags will be in the check room. My car's right out front. Think you're good enough to make the dodges? Don't know if I can make Montreal. Better concentrate on that first. What are you going to do if the pitcher throws a dust at your head? Same as you do, duck. Going up at this hour of the morning. Walking in your sleep? We thought we'd take a look at your new ball player, Clay. Take a look at him playing ball, not flapping his mouth with you guys. All right, Robinson, get out there and throw if you're losing up your arm. That's a topper. Oh, except the colored second baseman. Why don't you walk down town once in a while? Or maybe take a ride to the beach? I'm afraid to. I'm afraid. No one's going there, so sure. The last time I took a bus, I heard some white men talking. About Jack. About what they do for colored men trying to play on this. Oh, you know, they talk big, but they don't usually mean it. Maybe they don't usually. Sometimes they do. Some of the things they said gave me cold chills. Maybe you'd like to call it off. Maybe you'd rather I went back to the Panther. Not on your life. We started this together, boy, and we'll finish it together. We'll complete the training season and you'll complete it with us. It should be the best well-awaited battle in the past 10 years. It's so quiet on the baseball front, as officials would have us believe. While there are no known organized movements against Montreal's Jackie Robinson, it is a fact strong sentiment. So strong, in fact, that I hear the international league president, Shaughnessy, will make a significant visit to the Brooklyn Dodger office in the immediate future. And now, too, after some mail, it's time allowed. I'll open some Jersey City tomorrow. And this is your last chance to avoid a big mess. Could you let me decide that? You'll break up the whole international league, playing that colored boy. I've had letters, phone calls. I've even pulled all the sportswriters. What does sportswriters have to say? Jim Flanagan thinks you're even hurting the Negroes. This'll stir up a lot of trouble. There'll be black and white fights about it all over the country. And you'll be sorry you ever started a fine game, a clean game. I've always thought it had a good influence on the American people, on the kids growing up. But if what you say is true, then I've been all wrong. Come on, we'll sit in the front box. If anybody's got any rocks to throw, they can throw them at me. I won't be able to get on the field. Better hour and it'll begin. Would you rather I didn't go? No, you might as well come to the game. I'll follow my face. It might as well be in front of you, too. You won't fall down, Donald. I want to try and we'll do it. You think I can run? Where do you see me run this afternoon? I can't break it with just a scratch hitting the field of choice. I've got to set them on their ear. I've got to be the best ball player they've ever seen anywhere. So fact, ladies and gentlemen, 25,000 people are here to see baseball history made today at Roosevelt Stadium in Jersey City for this, the opening of the 1946 international league season. Even though the ball game has started, excited fans are still crowding in to this huge concrete horseshoe. It's a holiday throng, eager and expectant, but with one thing in mind. What will the highly publicized Jackie Robinson do today? Will organized baseball's first Negro player make good? Or will he fail? You fans out there, what do you think? Everybody made it. That was an awful easy chance. And Jackie Robinson proved himself indeed a mortal man in the first inning by booting that easy play, preventing Jersey City's first run. But the game is young fans, and so is Jackie. Everyone's been waiting for her. This big crowd is silent and tense as Jackie stands there at the plate. He's the right-handed batter, you know. Stands well back in the box, feet wide apart. Very good form. And every eye in this stadium is on that boy. Anxious. And as Jackie stands there, waiting for that first pitch. Steve the one, with a single Jersey City put out left. Jackie Robinson. And for the president of the Brooklyn Dodgers, Branch Rickey. This first day any ball player ever had or twice on ball. No. But you know where Montreal is playing next week, Branch. And they don't like colored people there. We spoke with a couple of friends of his nigger ball player. Yeah, when they get up at E, we kind of put them in that place. What about you? The lodges decided to send a delegation. You hadn't got to tell anybody. We're gonna call on Robinson as soon as the game is over. We don't like them boys playing ball around here. Not in this town. No, Jackie. Go on, it just makes it tough for having you here. We want to have a talk with you. We don't want you in this town, sir. I'll play tomorrow. Get me. Get me. Present? Yeah, here. Here's what you need. Gee, Mr. Hopper, that's awful light for you. New pair of shoes. Yeah, keep you from getting under the ball. See, that's wonderful. That's a great idea. Thanks a lot, Mr. Hopper. The white man's field. You better get your targets out of there before you get rode out. Here's a brother here, Jackie. Why don't you take him along? He wants to get into baseball, too. Ha, ha, ha, ha. Robinson stays in Montreal. Hmm, for the time being. Brooklyn and Montreal will train together in Panama. We'll have plenty of chance to see everybody. Well, you do what you think best, Branch. But I'll tell you this, we've had record attendance all over our league this year. And if there's any possible way of leaving Robinson and Montreal another season. Well, I think maybe we might. A boy like that ought to play every day. That's wonderful. All our fans want him. I think they're making too much out of an ordinary ball player. Don't you think, Clay? He's led the league in hitting. It's just that I don't want to burden a player, a ball player, with the responsibilities of a superman. Of course, Jackie might hit big league pitching. But suppose he did come up. How do we know that he could? Well, that he wouldn't get out of hand. How do we know? Mr. Rickey. Mr. Rickey, you don't have to worry none about that boy. He is the greatest competitor I ever saw. And once more, he's a gentleman. Well, glad you're here. Good name, Mr. Rickey, but I think you're making a mistake. We got farewell on second, remember? The signs have caused trouble. Well, some of the boys did hand a petition. They don't want Robinson on your ball club. They're on the sign of that petition. They bring him to my room at 8 o'clock tonight. Do you understand? Yes, sir. And you call yourselves Americans? Only you sign that petition. You want to deny Robinson the right to play baseball? I just don't want to be on the same team with him. Were you born in the United States? Yes, sir. And your parents, where were they born? My father was born in Italy. And your mother? She was born in Italy, too. They came to America before you were born? Yeah. And your father? What did he work at when he first came to this country? On the railroad, he was a laborer. Your mother, did she work, too? She worked in a shirt factory. Your father was an immigrant laborer. Did anybody get up a petition to keep him from working on the railroad? Not that I know of. Did anybody try to stop your mother from working in the shirt factory? Your parents came to this country from Italy and were allowed to work as free people. And yet you, a child in beneficiary of that freedom, want to deny the same opportunity to an American whose parents and grandparents and great-grandparents have been in this country for 200 years. Is that right? That's you, Dalby. Would you have the courage to strip to the waist and tell Robinson that to his face here behind closed doors? Tell him to his face that he can't play on the same ball team with you. Tell him you're not going to let him earn his living as a ball player. Answer me, sir. Mr. Rickey, I wasn't thinking. I didn't think. That, sir, explains why your teammates call you ironhead. Do you want to play on the Dodgers with Robinson? No, sir, I don't. Will you play with me? I'd rather not, sir. Would you like to have your contract transferred to another club? Yes, sir, I would. I may accommodate you, sir. Like men, I respect your right to petition. But I do question and I will fight any petition that denies any American the right to earn his living in a game that is supposed to represent the democratic principles of sportsmanship and fair play. Do you understand me? Yes, sir. That's all for tonight. Your suits are in your lockers. There's a ball game tomorrow. I hope I'll see you there in uniform. Sir, I want you to play first base for Montreal. First base? Mr. Rickey, I've never played first base. We're protected in second base, Jackie. We've got Burwell. Brooklyn can use a good first baseman. I see. Go out there and show them. Run their legs off. Yes, sir. I sure will. Keep him off the Brooklyn team. I'll tell you how you can do it. Strike him out. OK. Watch me. The problem confronting Jackie Robinson at this very minute as he goes to bat for the first time in a big leg game. Oh, yes. I know he's done all right in training. I've seen the papers, too. But that was only practice for keeps. There's a little man upstairs in the press box who's known among other things as the official scorer. He watches like a hawk. He marks down everything. He'll make a mark for every move that Jackie Robinson makes, good or bad. And not only the official scorer's eyes are on the Negro rookie, the whole world is waiting. Everybody wants to know if Branch Rickey has made a mistake. Will they be able to say, I told you so? I want to shift my feet. I missed the bat completely today in the third inning. They'd only let you play second base where you belong. We've got Burwell at second base. First is where they need me. But if you can't get on to it, honey, and it worries you. It's got me worried all right. It's got me where I'm not hitting, either. Anyhow, you're still the best base runner. They can't take that away from you. Yeah, but you can't steal first. How? What have you got in those hands, steel springs? They're nurses' hands, remember? Well, they better nurse me out of this slump. Well, Mr. Rickey will be looking for a new boy. Don't wait till you feel a bag under your foot. Do it all in one motion. I just can't seem to get the hang of it. Fine, I'll. Here, let me show you how. You almost had it last time. When you missed a bag, you kicked back for it like this. Here, all you have to do is practice now. Why do you want to do that? If I can't make the grade of first base, it'd have a little job back. He's a team player, Jackie. Well, let's get serious, folks. They can't say that Branch Rickey hasn't given Jackie Robinson a king-sized opportunity in staying in big league baseball. On that last road trip, when the California boy wasn't hitting too well, some of the out-of-town sports writers said that Jackie should have been out of there. He had little trouble with first base, playing it and reaching it. He just couldn't come up with that extra base hit. Right now, I see Jackie stepping into the box. Oh, worry, didn't he? Going to the plate in 19 straight times without a hit. But the pendulum can swing both ways. And it may be that Jackie has started out of hitting streak now. In baseball, it's not a fool or what you are, but can you play the game? Jackie Robinson sure is playing. Hey, what's up, big-eyed kid? He's a captain-minded policeman. Boy has set fire to the lead since mid-season when he hits safely in 21 straight games, missing the lead record by one. He's laid down 42 successful bunts, a prodigious number. He's a cinch to be voted the rookie of the year in Sudapak. Now we've got to run around second, the tying run, and Jackie Robinson is at the plate. He can't but now he's got to hit straight away. Two out. Hi, everybody. Do you really think I should go? Yes, Jackie, I do. To the house of representatives, to the American people. You learn the right to speak. They want you to speak. About things on your mind. About a threat to peace that's on everybody's mind, Jackie. I know that life in these United States can be mighty tough for people who are a little different from the majority. I'm not fooled because I've had a chance open to very few Negro Americans, but I do know that democracy works for those who are willing to fight for it. And I'm sure it's worth defending. I can't speak for any 50 million people. No one person can. But I'm certain that I and other Americans of many races and faiths have too much invested in our country's welfare to throw it away or to let it be taken from us. Yes, this is the Jackie Robinson story. But it is not his story alone, not his victory alone. It is one that each of us shares. A story, a victory that can only happen in a country that is truly free. A country where every child has the opportunity to become president. I'll play baseball for the Brooklyn Dodgers.