The District today has 50 Little League diamonds and 25 regulation baseball fields, a vast improvement from a decade or two ago when many baseball diamonds were being turned into soccer fields because they were cheaper to maintain or simply fell into disrepair.
Three years ago, a survey by the D.C. Department of Recreation showed as many as 4,000 District kids, high school-age or younger, were playing baseball. But James G. Mauro Jr., president of the Northwest Washington Little League, the largest feeder system for youth baseball in the city, said it's "absurd" the number isn't 10,000.
From left, Daniel Howard, 14; David Harold, 10; William Minor, 13; and Simon "Big Hurt" Casselle, 12, are among 300 members of the District's Satchel Paige Little League.
(Dudley M. Brooks -- The Washington Post)
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Just four or five of Washington's 16 high schools consistently have enough interest to put nine players on the field for an entire season, according to Allen Chin, director of athletics for D.C. public schools. Howard University, the District's historically black college, disbanded its baseball program three years ago.
African American participation in competitive youth baseball isn't much better in Prince George's County, which has the region's largest black population, or Montgomery County. Keith Stubbs scouts players at 450 high schools and 100 colleges in the District, Maryland and Virginia for the Philadelphia Phillies. On many trips, he is the only African American in the stadium, either watching or playing. "Sometimes," Stubbs said, "it's a little lonely out there."
One reason why was apparent on a recent Saturday during a clinic at the Langdon Park Recreation Center in the District run by DC First Swing, which holds free sessions to teach kids of all ages the fundamentals of the game. Charles Wade brought his sons, 9-year-old Mortimer and 6-year-old Jacob, from their home in Prince George's for the clinic in his old neighborhood. An hour into the 8 a.m. practice, Jacob spoke up.
"When are we gonna leave?" he asked. "It's not fun."
Harry Thomas Jr., whose father was a D.C. Council member, played youth baseball in the city in the 1970s and now sponsors DC First Swing. Thomas brings his sons, Kendrick, 17, and Harry, 9, to workshops around the country to keep his own baseball skills up-to-date. But even for someone committed to teaching the game, there are challenges. As the clinic wore on, Kendrick Thomas couldn't keep his mind off the nearby basketball hoops. During a lull, Thomas and a friend repeatedly darted to one hoop, dunking their baseballs.
"Get off those rims," his father yelled. "This is baseball practice."
Seeking a Link
John Young first saw evidence of baseball's declining allure among African Americans in the late 1970s, when he traveled as a scout through the South. He and other scouts would spend days in Birmingham, Atlanta, New Orleans, to see just one or two kids. "That's all there were," he said. So in 1989, Young started a program known as RBI -- Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities. It now has more than 200 chapters worldwide and is supported by Major League Baseball. Big leaguers such as Coco Crisp of the Cleveland Indians and Carl Crawford of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays are graduates.
Yet even with RBI, the percentage of African Americans in the majors has dropped since the program was founded. Young has seen how kids make the link between basketball and riches and, in some cases, even between basketball and a college education. He wants them to make that link with baseball. "If African American kids are not playing college baseball, then your numbers are going to drop in the big leagues," Young said.
Earlier this month, the Nationals played an exhibition game against Bethune-Cookman College, a historically black institution in Daytona Beach, Fla. When the Wildcats walked out of their locker room, Hammonds did a double-take as a stream of white and Latino players spilled onto the field. Just five of the 28 players on Bethune-Cookman's roster are African American, according to the team's coach, Mervyl Melendez.
"And that's at a historically black college," Hammonds said. "Imagine that."
Therein lies the challenge for Frank Robinson, for the Nationals and for baseball. Robinson said he wants to help the team connect with each and every part of the Washington region. He said he would be glad to go to schools and clinics. But the structure for such efforts to happen, he said, must be in place. Others must lay the groundwork, he said.
The team, which is expected to be sold to new owners sometime this season, intentionally and aggressively hired a diverse front office. "It's our duty to reflect the city we play in," team president Tony Tavares said.
But if Washington's black community comes to RFK Stadium in droves, it will buck the national trend. "You don't see minorities at the ballparks, the African Americans that you used to see," Robinson said. "Baseball, I don't think, has really addressed that because those seats are full. I'm sure they care, but you don't have to worry about it, because those seats are filled, so you don't look to see who's sitting there."
Robinson is realistic, though. He knows it won't be like the old days. He knows the African American kid of 2005 is barely connected to that of 1945, if at all. This summer, when baseball comes back to Washington, he might find out why.
"I've never really sat down with kids and asked, 'Why?' " he said, though he thinks he knows the answer: "They just don't play baseball."
Researcher Julie Tate contributed to this report.
