by The Negro Leagues are a thing of the past only few baseball fans have a profound knowledge of. At the same time, everyone knows that number 42 belongs to Jackie Robinson for always and why it has been retired. We remember Jackie Robinson and we should – but we’ve forgotten what Jim Crow did not only to baseball but to millions of people. When “Negroes” were excluded from professional baseball, a competitive system to host all that talent soon developed. That system became so popular for its quality and its players developed skills matching, and sometimes exceeding those of the Major Leaguers, that it was only a matter of time until Negro ballplayers and their aptitude couldn’t be denied any further. The process demanded decades. And in Soul of the Game, we see how things eventually started to change in the year of 1945.
Jackie Robinson. Satchel Paige. Josh Gibson. While the first still shines to this day, the latter names will likely mean nothing to the majority of fans flocking to ballparks every season. Back in the 30’s and 40’s though, things were different. In the unique Negro League machinery, that saw teams coming and folding, sometimes within weeks, teams barnstorming, playing games almost every day, players being hired off sandlots after displays of their abilities, then jumping their team when a bigger name like the Pittsburgh Crawfords, the Kansas City Monarchs or the Homestead Grays offered them a spot, and teams composed exclusively of “Negroes” filling the biggest ballparks of their era, Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson were the brightest stars. Paige was an ace pitcher, regularly calling all field players in while finishing off batters. Gibson was one of the greatest hitters, some maintaining the best ever. Nicknamed “The black Babe Ruth,” Gibson was the only player to ever hit a ball out of Yankee Stadium during a league game. A feat not even the great Bambino accomplished, leading to some calling him “The white Josh Gibson”. They were so good they even played on Trujillo’s personal team in the Dominican Republic, earning top dollars.
Aware of their status, both live their lives to the fullest, and even though we see Satchel calling the field in and sacrificing a hit to Gibson during a game between the Monarchs and the Grays, the two are good friends. In good faith, they’re convinced that, now that black men have proven their worth during the war and contributed to winning it, they’d be allowed to show what they could do on a baseball field. And in fact Branch Rickey, owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers, shares their sentiment. Scouts are watching Negro League players all over the country. But it’s neither Satchel, who is thought to be too old and his arm used, nor Gibson, who is struggling with mental illness that would make him a liability and later to be revealed as a developing brain tumor, that attract Rickey’s attention the most.
Jackie Robinson, a war veteran and now talented teammate of Paige with the Monarchs, is believed to be the best choice for integrating the Major Leagues. Not because he outshines Page and Gibson on field but because of his character, or so believes Rickey. It is character that all three players have and that is beautifully displayed by Delroy Lindo as Paige, Mykelti Williamson as Gibson and Blair Underwood as Robinson. Lindo plays a flamboyant man who’s in constant fear of losing his flamethrower and trying to quit for the sake of his health and his loyal wife. Williamson gives complexity to a man who is confident on field, joking with everyone and playfully taunting the opposition, but a shadow of himself when his mental illness strikes and he finds himself confused and naked standing on top of a building, on the ledge, only saved by his girlfriend’s devotion. Underwood, playing the part with the highest stakes, manages to make us understand Robinson as a man, not legend. A man who is aware of the opportunity that is given to him, that is also a heavy burden threatening to bring him down.
Soul of the Game for most of the time is narrated from a point of view that offers insight into the Negro Leagues and presents Rickey and his scouts and anyone else in the Major Leagues as an entirely different realm. The Jim Crow lie rings true with the ambience: separate but equal. Paige in particular lives in prosperity, still it is a distant prosperity he is all too aware could be taken away at any time. Even when we hear New York City’s mayor declaring at a nightclub while meeting with the three prominent men that racial segregation is a disgrace, we never fully comprehend their motif, hence fail to validate their sincerity. Same goes for Rickey, who just seems too overzealous, like a man willing to do anything to write his name into history. A scout trying everything to verify that Gibson isn’t ill, only to be shocked by the opposite and confessing close to tears that he did all he could to help his promotion to the Major Leagues, is the only opportunist doubtlessly unmasked as a human being. Feeling that Gibson was the best hitter ever, and being a genuine baseball fan, seeing him being denied his place in history breaks his heart.
Even though Soul of the Game is a film about an important chapter of baseball history (and American history), it is barely a baseball film. All scenes showing the three ace performers playing the game are skillfully executed, particularly those shot at gorgeous Rickwood Field in Birmingham, Alabama. That said, they make you yearn for more. Director Kevin Rodney Sullivan captures the era’s atmosphere and makes us understand all characters, but then it would’ve been beneficial to the film’s premise to show some more of this wondrous game to explain why, through America’s greatest pastime, injustice could gradually be revoked, if not defeated entirely.
Robinson’s promotion causes a falling-out between him and Paige and Gibson on the other side, who confuse disappointment with betrayal. On a rare occasion when the three men are alone on screen, they fight in a hotel kitchen, foreshadowing what effects integration in baseball would have all players in the Negro Leagues. It proved that, following his debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, Robinson’s success attracted black people to watch Major League baseball, leading to a massive decline of interest in the Negro Leagues. Eventually, they were terminated for financial reasons. With positions on Major League teams limited and barnstorming coming to an end, countless black players found themselves without a future in baseball. There’s a flipside to everything.
Despite their argue, Robinson helps Paige to have Gibson released from a hospital after another mental breakdown so the three could play in the annual exhibition game of Major League and Negro League All-Stars. Finally, they’re separate but equal, as the black and the white team line up along the diamond for the national anthem. Robinson proves his character and, according to Rickey, his willingness not to fight back to win, when they’re taunted by a white player. Paige and Gibson feel this is their last chance to prove their worth, but just when Satchel is to throw the first pitch, they’re hit by a storm and rained out. When everyone leaves the field, Jackie Robinson stays with Satchel and Josh, who screams in pain. Whether or not the pain was caused by his illness or frustration over being denied is difficult to say. United, they leave the field and Gibson sign’s an autograph for a boy that would grow to be the great Willie Mays, the player for the Giants we saw at the beginning of the film. A journalist takes his pictures, just like Robinson’s picture was taken before, to savor a great moment in history.
The cycle closes here, showing how Mays witnessed the historical moments that would enable him to become one of the greatest ballplayers of all time. Posting a career batting average of .311 while being a role model earning universal respect, Robinson proved that he was worthy of being the first black player in modern baseball. Paige later played with the Cleveland Indians, starting his career aged over forty, concluding when he was pushing sixty, evidence that he wasn’t too old to perform. Only Gibson succumbed to his illness even before Robinson played his first game as a Dodger, dying young at thirty-five. All three have been elected to Cooperstown. But only one will be remembered as #42 forever.
Soul of the Game is a splendid film that shines a light on a topic that is highly important, yet vastly forgotten. By focusing on its characters and their development, it does most things right and only few things wrong. Baseball fans might miss more playing throughout the film, and historical moments like Gibson’s bomb leaving Yankee Stadium would’ve been a welcome addition. But still, this is a film that captures the essence and soul of its time and should be watched by anyone interested in baseball history, Americana, Civil Rights or character studies.
