Asking that history be remembered as it truly happened is never too much to ask. Race will always remain an integral part of the history of baseball, and when any of that uncomfortable, evil history is minimized — especially by MLB itself — then we enter dangerous territory. That's what happened on Tuesday night in Atlanta during the league's tribute to a giant of the game.
Henry Louis Aaron hit his 715th home run on April 8, 1974 at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in front of nearly 60,000 Braves fans. With that blast, he passed Babe Ruth for most home runs in MLB history, a distinction Aaron would hold for nearly 35 years.
More than 50 years after that April night, MLB recreated Aaron's record-breaking moment using projectors and fireworks at Truist Park in Atlanta during Tuesday's All-Star Game. The show was pretty sensational — it was put together well, and it seemed a fitting tribute to Aaron, who passed away in 2021.
Hank Aaron's tribute at Truist Park was missing something
But it was also missing a critical piece of the story. The tribute used audio from Vin Scully, a legendary announcer, who called the game in 1974. "What a marvelous moment for baseball," you can hear Scully say in the tribute as Aaron rounds the bases. "What a marvelous moment for Atlanta and the state of Georgia. What a marvelous moment for the country and the world."
Everything he said is true, of course. But the marvelousness of that night was far greater than an act of sports brilliance by itself, and Scully knew that. Here's the entirety of his call after Aaron hit No. 715:
"What a marvelous moment for baseball. What a marvelous moment for Atlanta and the state of Georgia. What a marvelous moment for the country and the world. A Black man is getting a standing ovation in the Deep South for breaking a record of an all-time baseball idol."
The last sentence is what makes the first three sentences meaningful. Rob Manfred and MLB removing it from the tribute is a shameful decision that should not, and cannot, go unnoticed.
Without historical context, Hank Aaron's staggering accomplishments on a baseball field are still that — staggering accomplishments. And I wish that Aaron could have reached those heights in a vacuum, where he was a man who played baseball and earned respect on the field, and a human being who was granted respect off it. But that's not the case, and it's irresponsible to act as though it will ever be the case. Instead, Aaron experienced the vicious, endless abhorrence for Black people that was commonplace in 1950s and 1960s America... While still reaching those heights on the baseball field!
To remember Aaron's accomplishments as solely baseball accomplishments — like Manfred and MLB did on Tuesday night — as opposed to what they really were, which is human accomplishments done on a baseball field in the face of every institution stacked against him, is a disgrace.
Hank Aaron's legacy extends far beyond a home run record
Aaron's quest for 715 home runs didn't start and end when he stepped on the field every day. As a person of color living in the United States throughout the 1950s, 60s and 70s, Aaron and his teammates faced virulent racism any time they left their homes. From Jen Christensen's story about Aaron on CNN:
Fans threw rocks. They wore mops on their heads to mock the black players. They threw black cats onto the field. The FBI investigated death threats. The players knew to ignore the hate, but "we couldn't help but feel the weight of what we were doing," Aaron wrote in his autobiography.
The stadiums had segregated seating. Brown v. Board ended "separate but equal" on paper in 1954 -- the year Aaron got promoted to the big league. But, like with other facilities, the "whites only" signs didn't come down immediately. It wasn't until 1961 that the Braves took down the "whites only" signs, according to Aaron. The segregation also extended to the team.
Segregated seating.
When Hank Aaron entered the league, the stadiums he played in had segregated seating. If Hank Aaron wanted to watch the games Hank Aaron was playing in, he would have been forced to do it in the "Colored" section.
And that's why something that could be perceived as innocuous, something like removing one sentence from the end of Vin Scully's call of Hank Aaron's home run, is anything but. MLB didn't happen to end the audio of Scully's call before he addressed Aaron's race; it seemingly removed a key piece of history to protect the feelings of those too cowardly to confront a bleak, destructive past.
Lies by omission are just as heinous as lies by dishonesty, and that's what happened on Tuesday; an important part of history was removed, painting a dishonest picture of what truly took place. Hank Aaron's 715th home run transcended athletic expertise. Framing it as merely a great baseball moment like MLB did on Tuesday is a decision that anyone who cares about historical accuracy in sports, and the world, should wholeheartedly despise.