“It would seem weird now, but back then I sort of see why they did it,” said David Price, a tall lefthander, on how it would feel to be called “the black Clayton Kershaw,” a similar pitcher of the modern era. “We don’t do that now, but without social media and television, that was the way they knew to compare players from the two different leagues. I think today we understand why they did that.”

Here’s the entire section on the topic:

One telling practice of the era – tainted with the ugliness of racism, but indicative of the respect accorded to Negro Leaguers – was that of associating them with comparable white stars. A catcher named Louis Santop was dubbed “the black Babe Ruth,” as was Josh Gibson. Buck Leonard was “the black Lou Gehrig.” An outfielder named Spotswood Poles was “the black Ty Cobb.”

Looking back on being called “the black Bill Terry,” George Giles remarked “I never could figure out why they didn’t call him the white George Giles.”

Such backhanded compliments, however offensive, demonstrate what people of the era believed about the skills of the Negro League stars.

“I am honored to have John (Henry) Lloyd called ‘the Black Wagner,” Honus Wagner himself once said. “It is a privilege to have been compared to him.” (9)

The correlating of a Negro Leaguer with a white star served its purpose in an era when, not only did blacks and whites not play on the same field, but television, which could have provided some opportunity for comparison, had not yet been popularized. Such nicknames, however, also served to remind of the great racist chasm that separated white baseball from black.

“You know, they used to call me ‘the Black Lloyd Waner.’ I used to think about that a lot,” said Negro Leaguer Jimmie Crutchfield. “He was on the other side of town in Pittsburgh, making $12,000 a year, and I didn’t have enough money to go home on… It seemed like there was something wrong there.” (10)

Rather than focus on how politically incorrect the practice of correlating blacks to a white counterpart may seem today, modern major leaguers tend to view it as an honor that fit within the unfortunately segregated context.

“It was the time, and of course the players that they were comparing them to were great players. So it was a compliment,” said Daryl Boston. “I’m sure if I’d lived in that era, I would have taken it as a compliment, because that was the only way you could take it. You just dealt with it. And because there were two separate sides, the black side and the white side, you just had to roll it.”

“It would seem weird now, but back then I sort of see why they did it,” said David Price, a tall lefthander, on how it would feel to be called “the black Clayton Kershaw,” a similar pitcher of the modern era. “We don’t do that now, but without social media and television, that was the way they knew to compare players from the two different leagues. I think today we understand why they did that.”

Excerpts from Legacy: The Enduring Impact of the Negro Leagues on Modern Baseball and American Society

Every so often something unique and extraordinary explodes onto the scene of major league baseball, creating an unusual wave of interest at the ballpark and in the media.

Several decades ago, a gangly, flailing pitcher nicknamed “The Bird” came from out of nowhere to become an overnight celebrity by talking to the ball between pitches and exhibiting quirky tactics. Mark Fydrich packed stadiums and became a media darling in his rookie season in 1976.

Fernandomania swept the nation in 1981, when Fernando Valenzuela dominated the National League and sparked new interest in major league baseball amongst millions of Mexican-Americans and in Valenzuela’s home country of Mexico.

Neither of those phenomena was expected. But the arrival from Japan of Ichiro Suzuki in 2001 was one anticipated with baited breath by the Asian world. Hundreds of Japanese media reported on Suzuki’s every move throughout that season, and viewership skyrocketed in Japan despite the 16-hour time difference.

Something truly unique is taking place in baseball this year, and it is happening right now at Kauffman Stadium.

Taking the hill for the Los Angeles Angels today against the Royals will be Shohei Ohtani. The 23-year-old native of Japan is doing something that hasn’t really been attempted in 100 years. Pitching every Sunday for the Angels, Ohtani takes a regular spot in the Angels batting order as designated hitter on his off days.

Not since Babe Ruth in 1919 has a player batted regularly in between starts on the mound. Ruth has always been considered the greatest of two-way performers. At just 22 years of age in 1917, Ruth had established himself as perhaps the best pitcher in the game. But he showed such skill at the plate that his team at the time, the Boston Red Sox, began to use him more and more in the field. So in 1918 and 1919, he split time between the two roles.

When the New York Yankees acquired the Bambino in 1920, they turned him into a full-time outfielder. The rest, of course, is history.

Ohtani isn’t the first guy since Ruth who was good at both pitching and hitting. So one would wonder why this hasn’t been attempted since. Did Ruth and the Yankees create some unwritten rule against it?

Ruth wasn’t exactly the picture of fitness, so it’s possible that when he threw a lot of pitches it affected his ability at the plate. And in the days prior to the designated hitter (instituted in the American League in 1973), playing both ways meant literally playing both ways. But why hasn’t anyone tried until now? Considering the limitations imposed by the 25-man roster, and the opportunity the DH provides for pitchers to bat without playing in the field, it’s surprising no one has done more than dabble as a two-way performer.

Ned Yost noted prior to the series that while managing the Milwaukee Brewers 2003 and 2004, he used a player named Brooks Kieschnick as a Swiss army knife, pitching in relief, pinch hitting and playing DH and left field. Over the two-year period, Kieschnick threw 96 innings, and batted 144 times. It was a great display of versatility, and an indication of what was possible, but nothing like what Ohtani is attempting.

“Shotime” fever is catching on with American fans as the Angels try something revolutionary. Japan, of course, can’t get enough of it. The Royals provided about 50 to 75 credentials to Japanese media on Thursday. Broadcaster Joel Goldberg said during the opener of the four-game series the Royals expected that number to quadruple over the weekend.

Whether “Shotime” approaches the mania of Fernando or Ichiro remains to be seen. But when your feats already can be compared only to Babe Ruth’s, they are bound to attract significant attention.

In his best season as pitcher/hitter, Ruth belted 29 home runs and drove in 113 RBI while also going 9-5 with a 2.97 ERA in 15 starts. The year before that, in his most evenly balanced season, Ruth hit 11 home runs and recorded 13 wins as a pitcher.

No pitcher since 1918 has won 10 games and also hit 10 home runs in a campaign. A Cleveland Indians pitcher named Wes Ferrell had perhaps the best season of pitching and hitting since Ruth. He won 22 games in 1931 and belted 9 homers.

Ohtani goes for win number three today against the Royals, in what will be his only trip to Kansas City this season. Given an opportunity none have received in 100 years, he appears well on his way to making history.