100 books like Satchel

The National Basketball Association’s color barrier was not as long-lasting as Major League Baseball’s, but it was in place in 1950 when the more enlightened white owners and talented Black players shattered it.

Author Thomas recalls the economic justification for racism, with how one owner warned another owner that his “players will be 75% Black in five years and you’re not going to draw people.” Fears that racial fairness would ruin the NBA were ridiculous, of course. The first Black player drafted and the first to sign a contract were Harlem Globetrotters. Through deep research and interviews, Thomas explains in an engaging manner how the NBA was integrated.

Major League Baseball teams integrated at different paces. In 1964, the St. Louis Cardinals relied heavily on several Black players to fuel their march toward the league title. St. Louis’s white and Black players had built camaraderie and trust long before they reached that year’s World Series. Their opponent, the New York Yankees, had been cautious about integrating.

Halberstam explores this contrast and how it shaped the Cardinals’ series victory. He’s a great storyteller, sharing tales about players from different races and regions learning to play and win together.

Before Major League Baseball was integrated, the Negro Leagues were the showcase for talented Black players.

Heaphy explains that Negro League players were the ultimate road warriors, traveling from one city to another to play “barnstorming” games — games that bolstered teams’ financial status but didn’t count in the league standings. And the Negro Leagues were trend-setters, playing night baseball several years before the all-white Major Leagues began doing so.

Heaphy paints a vivid portrait of Rube Foster, the daring and persistent man who formed the Negro National League in 1920.

During the Cold War, the propaganda battle between the U.S. and the Soviet Union was intense during the 1950s and 1960s. Communist leaders in Moscow constantly attacked America as hypocritical for promoting freedom abroad while treating its Black residents as second-class citizens.

Damion L. Thomas provides a fascinating look at how the U.S. government countered by sponsoring Black athletes on goodwill tours abroad. Thomas refers to government directives and other papers to shine a light on this diplomatic strategy.

Spivey and I share the same goal—to reach a broad audience, both scholarly and general. His book is for readers who love baseball and love history—those with a passion for the game who are not scared off by complex arguments or endnotes. Baseball intellectuals—the huge group of readers embodied by George Will, Ken Burns, and Doris Kearns Goodwin—constitute the central audience. But baseball buffs also care about the history of the game and will want to read this book. Spivey, a history professor, writes accessibly and avoids “insider history”—even in the sections and chapters focused primarily on the sordid past of American race relations. It is a deftly-executed, balanced treatment of Paige and one of the most meticulously researched biographies ever written about an athlete.

Mamie Peanut Johnson loved baseball, and she was a good player. Really good. A pitcher.

Regardless of how good she was, because she was Black, Mamie was barred from playing on the All-American Girls’ Pro Baseball League. That might have stopped other players, but not Mamie! She didn’t let adversity, or the color of her skin, or gender stop her. 

Instead, when a chance to pitch for the Negro Leagues’ Indianapolis Clowns, a men’s professional team, came her way, Mamie stepped right up, thus becoming the first female pitcher to play professional baseball. 

The Negro Leagues, like all organized sports leagues, were showcases for the stars of the game – Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, Oscar Charleston, and the like. But, like all the other leagues, they were businesses, too. Sports entrepreneurs, most of them African American, invested in all-Black teams that formed a “shadow” alternative to Major League Baseball where the players, and most of the owners, too, were not welcome due to segregation. Lanctot, a history professor comfortable with deep and extensive research, chronicles the successes and failures of the Black leagues, which were almost always existing on a financial knife’s edge, until the integration of pro ball in 1946 spelled their death.

I thought I should include at least one kids’ sports book since I have written 28 of them.  But honestly, We Are the Ship by Kadir Nelson could be included in any list of great sports books.

Nelson is a talented artist who has illustrated dozens of children’s books and whose work has appeared in art galleries and on New Yorker magazine covers.

The art in We Are the Ship is wonderful but it is Nelson’s writing that is the surprise.  Adopting the voice of an aging baseball player who saw it all, Nelson tells the story of the Negro Leagues of the 1920s and 30s.

We Are the Ship is a magical combination of sports history, great art, and superb storytelling that will captivate any reader.  

I can give this book the greatest compliment I can give any children’s book: I wish had written it.

Peterson was a magazine writer in the 1960s who became curious about those Black baseball teams he saw play in the Pennsylvania town where he grew up. He set out with his tape recorder to track down and interview many Negro League figures, and dove into library newspaper collections to find the facts to back up their reminiscences. First published in 1970 and still in print, this is the first comprehensive history of Black professional baseball, the history of which was in serious danger of being lost to modern memory when the Negro Leagues were put out of business in the 1950s following Major League integration. Many of us who write about Black ball read this book first.

Martin Luther King, Jr. once observed that without the breaking of the color line in baseball in the late 1940s, his work for civil rights in the 1960s would have been infinitely more difficult.

This book tells the story not only of Jackie Robinson breaking that barrier to integrate baseball in 1947, but its profound consequences for both white and black baseball and for the Negro Leagues and the black community.

This breakthrough, seven years before the Brown v. Board of Education school desegregation decision, emerged not merely from Robinson and his sponsor, Branch Rickey, but from a several-decades long social movement for baseball integration, and it began the process of breaking down racist barriers in U.S. society—a notable example of how sports can promote social progress.