Ex-Washington Player Goes Back a Few Years

Ted Radcliffe, a Chicago White Sox fan who attended Opening Day, once tried to rekindle people's love for baseball after the shady scandal of 1919. (Dudley M. Brooks -- The Washington Post)

He pauses, as if locating Robinson in one of the outfields of his mind.

"Frank," he says, "was a great player, a great player. He's managed a long time, too."

Spearman is at the dinner table with Duty, and Bob Wiggins, another Negro leaguer, and Duty's grandniece Debra and a great-grandniece, Bria Scudder. The cafe, at the corner of East 43rd and Prairie on the city's South Side, celebrates the long-defunct Negro leagues, from the paintings of Paige and Gibson and Jackie Robinson on a wall outside to a gallery's worth of artwork inside. Paintings of "Double Duty" and his brother Alexander, who also played, flank one doorway. The first hamburger on the menu is "The 'Double Duty' Radcliffe," featuring two beef patties.

Duty, it's said, played for more than 40 teams, sometimes several in the same season. He changed teams repeatedly for more money, putting him far ahead of his time as a free agent.

A 10-year-old named Sam Lowenthal approaches the table, his father explaining that it was the boy, not he, who spotted "Double Duty." The old man greets them amiably, extending his left hand, which he often does because foul tips have gnarled his right hand. The fingers on his right hand are swollen and crooked.

"Who did you play for?" the boy asks.

"All of 'em."

Duty laughs and they talk some more.

Then plates of chicken are served. He keeps his hat on.

Debra hands him a napkin. She doesn't want him to get his suit mussed. "He was always a very sharp dresser," she says, to which Spearman adds, "He loved the ladies."

Apparently, his eagerness to reach a new city and play another game, and enjoy the sights, offset the discomfort of the notoriously long bus rides in the Negro leagues.

"He was saying last night," Debra says, " 'There were a lot of pretty women in Washington, D.C.' "

Making the Rounds

Duty still has a slugger's appetite. Shortly, he is brought a second helping of chicken and an empty bowl in which to deposit the bones. A glass of lemonade is put in front of him.

When he is asked what player he thinks of when he thinks of the Negro leagues, he answers excitedly, "Bankhead."