

Jackie Robinson. (Courtesy of Hulton Archive Getty Images)

Friday is supposed to be the second holiday on the baseball calendar, trailing Opening Day by chronology but not by importance. On Jackie Robinson Day, every major leaguer wears the only number retired across the game – 42, a remembrance and reminder of the man that broke the color barrier. Speeches will be made. Players will pay their respects. And the games will go on.

The arrival of this day, though, has now become an annual exercise in examining baseball’s failure to attract and retain African American players. The numbers, for more than a generation, are stark: nearly 19 percent of major league players in 1981 were African American; last year, that number had fallen below eight percent. So tick off the list of issues hobbling baseball: it’s too expensive, not cool enough, almost non-existent in the inner city, a rich person’s suburban sport – on and on.

“It bothers me,” said Tony Clark, the executive director of the Major League Baseball Players Association. “It bothers me when there appears to be a lack of opportunity. It bothers me when there appears to be a lack of support. It bothers me when we do the same things and acknowledge the same problems, but we don’t affect change.”

[David Oriz begins his long goodbye in his unlikely second home]

Tony Clark hopes to bring more African American kids to the game of baseball. (Rolando Pujol/EPA)

Clark, then, is trying to do just that, and – as both the first former player and first African American head of the players’ union – he has a perspective and platform that are both unique. Earlier this year, he sent a proposal to his counterparts at Major League Baseball, something called the “Career Preparation Project.” The idea, broadly, is to provide educational opportunities for players who eschew college in order to go into pro ball out of high school, as well as to provide career options for players who transition out of the game when they’re done playing. And in doing so, Clark hopes – no, he believes – it would help open the sport to so many young African American athletes who have been shut out too frequently over the past three decades.

“Every year, as we continue to have the conversation about the lack of diversity and lack of opportunities, you find yourself watching and seeing that the same things are being said,” Clark said in a phone conversation this week. “There are new ideas and new programs being developed, and they make nice press events. But substantively, they don’t change anything.”

Clark believes his proposal has substance, and he believes it because he lived it. Growing up in San Diego in the 1980s, he didn’t take baseball terribly seriously, at least in part because baseball wasn’t going to provide him an education. Instead, he pursued basketball, which got him a scholarship to the University of Arizona. Make what you will of the NCAA and how high-level college athletics exploit the players. If an athlete is, in fact, focused and motivated, he could use basketball or football to get an education.

[The O’s are off to a hot start, but for how long?]

Baseball, which has far fewer scholarships, doesn’t afford kids as many chances. Indeed, a player who is drafted and signs out of high school is unlikely to ever get an education, whether he makes the majors or peters out in Class A.

To change that, Clark’s proposal includes an element called “Baseball U.,” in which the league and the union would work with a variety of colleges to tailor programs that fit the schedules and abilities of a wide array of players. No one would be forced to enroll, but if even one player decided to choose baseball over basketball or football because they could continue to pursue an education, Clark would consider it a success.

“For me, education is everything,” Clark said. “Education is what allows you to make good decisions. Education is what affords you the opportunity beyond the game of baseball, to continue to have a successful career. That component was huge. Having it be part of the conversation is huge.”

The idea includes, too, ways to support players after their careers on the field are over – ways to enter the business side of the game, to become a scout, to learn about baseball analytics, to become an entrepreneur. And each of those components would include a diversity element, identifying minority players – not just African Americans, but those from other countries, too – and tracking them through each level of the minors, providing support by beginning the post-career conversation while their careers are ongoing.

[Boston’s biggest additions were bad from start to finish. That must change for Red Sox.]

This wouldn’t be free, and it couldn’t be a one-time commitment of cash from either the union or the league – something approaching $10 million. And this comes in a year when the collective bargaining agreement between the union and the league expires. There are myriad issues that must be haggled over.

Maybe this could be one on which there’s agreement? If not about the particulars just yet, then the concepts?

Baseball, as a sport, has had a scattered approach to addressing the decline in participation by black players, a reality for which there is widespread blame. “I don’t feel like I’ve upheld my side of the bargain,” Clark said.

But forget, for now, the blame and who should share in it. There is currently a critical mass of stars for African American kids to look up to – Andrew McCutchen and Adam Jones, Dee Gordon and Prince Fielder, Justin Upton and David Price, an assortment of positions and skills and personalities that should show any kid, of any race, that they could excel in this sport.

Yet will we arrive at April 15, 2017, and watch every player on every team pull on jersey No. 42, and look back instead of forward?

“I know we didn’t get here overnight, and I know there are no quick fixes,” Clark said. “I know when we’re fundamentally talking about a culture change, a significant shift in philosophy, a significant commitment and level of engagement, that that kind of shift is going to require time.

“I’d like to sit here and say that next April 15 there will be this many people in the program. But I tell you: If there’s one person that suggests anything that we’re doing has made a difference for them, I’ll count it as a positive, because it’s going to have to happen once before it happens twice.”

Indeed, there had to be Jackie Robinson before there was Larry Doby, and there had to be Larry Doby before there was Hank Thompson, and there had to be Hank Thompson before there was Tony Clark and Andrew McCutchen and so on. Maybe in a decade, we’ll take April 15 to not only remember and appreciate Robinson, but to revel in how baseball rebuilt itself from the brink of extinction in an entire segment of American society.