Words by Daniel McNatt @culturexcures
This past Juneteenth, as Black Americans celebrated the day enslaved people in Texas finally found out about their freedom, another celebration occurred in Inglewood, California.
Hip-hop, Los Angeles, and Black culture converged on the Forum for an unofficial victory lap for Kendrick Lamar in his recent rap feud with Canadian singer and rapper Drake.
“The Pop Out: Ken and Friends” was an amalgamation of a more-than-a-decade-long push by Kendrick to unify and celebrate his hometown. Featuring some of the Pulitzer Prize-winning rapper’s most culturally influential counterparts, Dr. Dre, Dom Kennedy, YG, SchoolBoy Q, Roddy Rich, and more— the moment transcended its Southern California location, as it was live-streamed to a record-breaking audience, according to its streaming partner Amazon Music.
As different sections and sub-cultures came together peacefully to celebrate the West Coast and the hit summer anthem ‘Not Like Us,’ an iconic moment (fueled in part by the recent headline-grabbing rap) beef was born.
A widespread embrace of Black culture took place on perhaps the most celebrated Black day of the year as NBA celebrities like Lebron James, and L.A.natives James Harden, Russell Westbrook, and Demar Derozan were spotted among the festivities.
The Weeknd, Lakeith Stanfield, Chloe Bailey, SZA, North West, and Lauren London were all spotted in attendance at the star-studded event as well.
It seemed like all of Black America was fixated on this moment. Yet, at that same time, as the Black baseball world prepared for a Negro League Celebration more than 2,000 miles away in Birmingham, Alabama, a continued disconnect between the sport and the modern-day Black community persisted.
As mega-stars from professional basketball made their way to Los Angeles to witness the festivities and the significant cultural moment, the connection between hip-hop and the sport of baseball felt nearly nonexistent. Not only were Black baseball icons not present, they weren’t expected to be—or even thought of.
While it must be noted that the baseball season is in full swing, in contrast, the NBA season has ended. It is also worth noting that there is a much stronger cultural tie between Black American culture and sports like basketball and football than with baseball. We expect big NBA or NFL stars to show their faces at these events, to stir the proverbial pot on social media and in the news cycles.
The dissonance between Black baseball players and other cultural events is either a result of – or a partial cause of the declining number of Black American athletes in Major League Baseball in the past few decades.
As of 2023 Opening Day, just 6.2% of Opening Day rosters for MLB consisted of Black
American players, according to a report card published by The Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport.
This number was far below the league’s ceiling in the 1970s and 80s, when the percentages were consistently in the high teens, topping off at 18.7% in 1981, according to the Society of American Baseball Research.
As the game continues to look for ways to grow in modern America, it faces challenges that many have outlined as a strong regional fandom that limits its potential for a broader audience.
As stars in the Pacific time zone like Mookie Betts get to showcase their skills, a plethora of fans east of the Rocky Mountains are headed to bed. While fans in those areas may be able to watch Black stars excelling, there is less fanfare due to geographical restrictions.
The regional pride that permeated the Kia Forum in Los Angeles on Juneteenth is the kind of atmosphere many fans can at least partially understand regarding the joy associated with their hometown teams.
As the success of the Kendrick concert shows, this type of celebration can be significantly unifying. Truly honoring Black cultural heritage, not just glazing over the past as Major League Baseball has been known to do, could be a guiding light for growing baseball in Black communities.
Whether we recognize it or not, embracing baseball is embracing Black culture. For years, the sport dominated the American landscape, and iconic Black players were right in the middle of it.
Baseball has not had an iconic moment for Black American ballplayers since the height of Barry Bonds in the early 2000s and the New York media avalanche (and cultural relevance) of Yankees Hall of Famer Derek Jeter.
But that cultural tie that saw NBA superstars on stage with Kendrick and friends in Los Angeles last week is the moment Major League Baseball desperately needs.
There is no easy fix here, as evidenced by the declining numbers of Black players since the turn of the 20th century. However, the league would benefit from a stance similar to Kendrick Lamar’s act of Black unity and pride, and not just Jackie Robinson Day or Negro League games (which are both great odes to the past.)
Showcasing what there is to offer both currently and historically for the culture is what made Kendrick’s show iconic, and that same effort could ingratiate baseball into the minds of Black Americans again.
As the celebrations for the Negro Leagues continue, how can Black history be celebrated within younger demographics? Who is Black America then, and who are we now?
Getting star players into the mainstream pop culture landscape to help promote these events and draw eyes to the game is a start. Utilizing events such as the celebrity softball game and getting fans to speak about their favorite personalities across the culture is a great way to bridge the gap between the game and the casual fan. The NBA has done this very well in previous years, garnering tons of buzz during their All-Star weekend.
The lineup for this year’s celebrity softball game during All-Star week in Texas isn’t exactly moving the cultural needle for baseball during a time when they have the entire American sports landscape at their disposal following the end of the NBA and Stanley Cup Finals.
This is a time to utilize that space and potential viewership wisely to garner the attention of Black fans during what many of them view as a dead period before football season starts again in the fall.
Baseball’s midsummer classic is a great way to get as many eyeballs on the sport as possible. Creating “moments” of cultural relevance akin to the celebratory and unifying performances during BA All-Star weekends or the Juneteenth show at the Forum.
Another way is to face the history that has led us to where we are now. Hall of Famer Reggie
Jackson made headlines during the MLB at Rickwood Field game last week by speaking very
candidly on the FOX pregame show about the racism he experienced while playing as a
member of the Birmingham A’s minor league team in the late 1960s.
Jackson spoke of the harsh treatment he received and being called the “N” word as one of the only Black players on the team. Jackson was denied entry into restaurants and hotels, but he credited his coaches and teammates for helping him endure those difficult times.
In many ways, Major League Baseball sweeps these moments under the rug as if they were not part of their history and attempts to put band-aids on open historical wounds that still bleed with the pains of players like Reggie and countless others.
For baseball to indeed be back in the good graces of the Black American public, some rectification on the league’s part is in order.
It is easy for Black Americans—who have lived with the generational traumas inflicted by this country— to tell when apologies are not genuine. For any meaningful cultural moment to happen, there must first be a reckoning, and it must be pronounced and uncomfortable.
For one, there is a notable absence of a single black majority owner for any 30 Major League Baseball clubs. Following the integration of the Major Leagues, the Negro Leagues eventually died with no financial gain for the then-owners.
As the league was integrated, the front offices that put the teams together remained white.
In many ways, that need is a microcosm of what is needed in this country: a deep and sincere look back at the scars of our past and their effects on the present.
Though that day may never come, Black communities will do what they always have done, and what Kendrick and friends did on Juneteenth: be prideful.
If Major League Baseball is interested in changing its demographics, giving that pride and the origins that necessitate it a much overdue platform would benefit them.
Words by Daniel McNatt @culturexcures
