Before the Spotlight
Before the footprints fade, we carry the echo— not just of where we lived, but how the ground responded. Each move is a measure: each goodbye, a beat.
Before the press conferences, endorsements, and photo ops, Black college baseball was already alive. It moved with grit. It breathed in overlooked dugouts and echoed across Southern diamonds, where Black kids played the game not for visibility but for legacy.
Long before former Major League players stepped into the spotlight to “elevate the profile” of Black college baseball, some of us were already documenting, advocating for, and amplifying its proper rhythm. I was there. Not watching from the bleachers, but writing from within the dust.
Bearing Witness Before It Was Trendy
I began shining a light on Black college baseball decades ago—interviewing players, tracking scores, and lifting stories that mainstream media missed. Back then, coverage was sparse. Recognition was silent. Yet the talent was unmistakable.
- These kids weren’t waiting for validation—they were defining excellence on their terms.
- Coaches, often working with limited resources, built dynasties of discipline and belief.
- The dugout culture—rich in mentorship and coded resilience—deserved archival reverence, not just seasonal praise.
The recent surge in interest is welcome. But it must not erase the quiet stewardship that preceded it.
The Rhythm Beneath the Marketing
Former pros now lend their names to Black college baseball programs, and while the intention may be sincere, the narrative needs nuance. Visibility without memory becomes spectacle. I’ve documented the players who built this game in shadows—kids who endured bus rides, uneven fields, and media neglect, yet still swung for greatness.
Black college baseball is not emerging—it’s enduring. The spotlight didn’t birth it. The grind did.
Legacy, Not Lip Service
My work has never been about chasing headlines. It’s been about creating legacy packets, writing the unsung into the public record, and showing how these programs are not just athletic but cultural institutions.
To truly honor this movement:
- We must name those who paved the way without corporate backing.
- We must archive the statistics, photos, and oral histories before they are lost.
- We must ensure Black baseball kids know they come from a long line of brilliance, not just the ones with press kits.
Call-to-Action
If you’ve followed the recent rise in coverage, dig deeper. Ask who was documenting before the cameras arrived. Share your memories if you’ve played, coached, or cheered for the team. Pass this to someone who still thinks Black college baseball began when it hit the headlines. Subscribe to this space where history isn’t just observed—it’s remembered in rhythm.
Because before they told the story, we were already living it.