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The Major League Professional Baseball Player: A Sociological Study

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The Major League Professional Baseball Player: A Sociological Study

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Content This dissertation has been microfilmed exactly as received 69-16,543 CHARNOFSKY, Harold, 1931- THE MAJOR LEAGUE PROFESSIONAL BASEBALL PLAYER: A SOCIOLOGICAL STUDY. University of Southern California, Ph.D., 1969 Sociology, general University Microfilms, Inc., Ann Arbor, Michigan © Copyright by HAROLD CHARNOFSKY 1969 THE MAJOR LEAGUE PROFESSIONAL BASEBALL PLAYER A SOCIOLOGICAL STUDY by Harold Charnofsky A Dissertation Presented to the FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree l DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY (Sociology) January 1969 UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA T H E GRADUATE SC H O O L UNIVERSITY PARK LOS A N G ELE S, C A LIFOR N IA 9 0 0 0 7 This dissertation, written by H a r o l d C h a r .......... under the direction of h.XS.. Dissertation Com mittee, and approved by all its members, has been presented to and accepted by the Graduate School, in partial fulfillment of requirements for the degree of D O C T O R OF P H I L O S O P H Y ( T Dean D ate January,. )MMITTEE DISSfiRTATI •/ ACKNOWLEDGMENT S There is no way properly to express my indebtedness to the people who helped afford me the privilege of doing this study. My many friends in professional baseball who provided access to dressing rooms and introductions to play ers, the chairman of my dissertation committee, Dr. Edward McDonagh, who guided with the absolute lightest of hands, Drs. Thomas Lasswell and David Martin, who rendered helpful criticisms both of the research process and the completed manuscript, all merit thanks beyond means to express them. Appreciation is also due to the players who, during some of the most frantic moments of the pennant drive, were willing to tolerate an intruder in their privileged "back regions" and even took the time to answer his often audacious ques tions . ii TABLE OF CONTENTS Page ACKNOWLEDGMENTS....................................... ii LIST OF T ABLES................................ v LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS................................. xi Chapter I. THE PROBLEM AND ITS THEORETICAL ORIGINS . . . 1 Introduction: Background of the Problem Statement of the Problem Theoretical Basis for the Study Hypotheses Definitions of Terms Limitations of the Research II. REVIEW OF THE LITERATURE................... 36 Introduction Popular Literature on Baseball Scholarly Literature on Baseball III. RESEARCH METHODS AND PROCEDURES............ 79 Introduction Preliminary Research Strategy Collection of Data Analysis and Interpretation Chapter Page IV. THE PLAYER AT H O M E .......................... 104 Introduction Description of the Sample The Player as Political Man The Player as Moral Man The Player as Leisure Man V. THE PLAYER AT W O R K ..................... . . 201 Introduction Preparing for the Role How the Players See Their Roles How the Players See Themselves How the Players See the Public The Occupational Culture of the Major League Baseball Player VI . THE BLACK P LA Y E R............................ 285 Introduction A Brief History of the Black Man in Baseball Description of the Sample How Blacks and Whites See Each Other Trends and Predictions VII. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS...................... 320 Introduction A Summary of Findings The Major Leaguer: An Ideal Typology Suggestions for Further Research APPENDIXES Appendix A: Baseball Players Questionnaire .... 367 Appendix B: Baseball and the Player: Some Final Thoughts........................ 374 BIBLIOGRAPHY ......................................... 384 iv LIST OF TABLES Table Page 1. Players' Age and Ethnic Category............ 106 2. Birth Place by State................ 107 3. States Where Players Grew U p ................. 109 4. Class of Pro Ball in Cities Where Players Grew U p ............................ 110 5. Education of Players....................... . 112 6. Education of Parents of Players............ 114 7. Marital Status and Number of Children .... 116 8. Perceived Family Social Class While Player Was Growing Up and Players1 Present Perceived Social Class ............. 120 9. Direction of Self-perceived Social Mobility by Ethnic Category ............... 122 10. Perceived Family Social Class While Player Was Growing Up and Family Social Class, Using Hollingshead1s 2-Factor Index of Social Position ......... 125 11. Family Social Class of Players, Using Hollingshead1s 2-Factor Index of Social Position............................ 126 v Table Page 12. Occupation and Education of Fathers While Players Were Growing Up, Using Hollings- head's Categories in the 2-Factor Index of Social Position.......................... 128 13. Fathers' Occupation While Player Was Growing Up and Fathers1 Present Occupa tion, Using a Modified Centers Scale .... 130 14. Occupational Mobility of Still-working Fathers of Major Leaguers from Their Sons' Childhood to the Present............. 132 15. Off-season Occupations of Major Leaguers . . . 134 16. Players' Opinions on the Role of Govern ment in Solving Social Problems, by Ethnic Category ............................ 138 17. Players' Reasons for Views on the Role of Government in Solving Social Prob lems, by Ethnic Category.................... 139 18. Players' Degree of Concern with World Problems, by Education...................... 142 19. Political Affiliation and Voting Behavior, by Ethnic Category and Type of Election . . 145 20. Players' 1964 Voting Behavior by Ethnic Category and Political Affiliation (Totals)..................................... 148 21. Local, State and National 1964 Voting Behavior, by Ethnic Category ............... 150 22. Reasons for Not Voting in All or Some Elections, by Ethnic Category ............. 152 vi Table Page 23. Religious Preference and Attendance at Religious Services During the Past Year . . 155 24. Importance of Religion in Players' Lives, by Religious Preference.................... 160 25. Attitude toward Gambling and Frequency of Playing Cards for Money During the Season and Off-season ...................... 164 26. Attitude toward Gambling and Frequency of Attending the Horse and Dog Races During the Season and Off-season................. 168 27. Attitudes toward Moderate and Heavy Drink ing from a Moral Standpoint, by Personal Drinking Standards ............... 173 28. Players' Personal Values or Behavior toward Drinking in General.............. 177 29. Players' Ways of Spending Free Time During the Season and Off-season............. 185 30. Players' Favorite Kinds of Movies, by Education............................... 187 31. Magazines Players Usually Read, by Education............................... 193 32. Players' Favorite Recreation and Entertain ment, with Frequency of Participation . . . 195 33. Source of Influence in Choosing Baseball As a Career, by Players' Professed Occupational Happiness ...................... 203 34. Influence of Intimates Versus Non-intimates in Choosing Baseball As a Career, by Players' Professed Occupational Happiness . 204 vii Table Page •35. Influence of Role Models in Choosing Base ball As a Career, by Players' Professed Occupational Happiness ...................... 205 36. Age of Players upon Joining First Organized Team, by Professed Occupational Happi ness .......................................... 213 37. Years Spent in the Minor Leagues Prior to First Full Season in the Major Leagues, by Players' Professed Occupational Happiness................................... 219 38. Happiness with Occupation, by Ethnic Category................................. 224 39. Happiness with Occupation, by Players' Ag e s .......................................... 225 40. What Players Especially Like about Their Occupation................................... 228 41. What Players Especially Dislike about Their Occupation............................. 230 42. Players' Evaluation of Their Profession . . . 231 43. Players' Choice of Occupations Closest to Professional Baseball, by Professed Occupational Happiness ...................... 233 44. Players' Reasons for Choosing Particular Occupations Closest to Professional Baseball...................................... 234 45. Players' Attitudes toward High Risk Job with Brief T e n u r e .......................... 236 viii Table Page 46 . Players1 Attitudes toward Being Bought and Sold at the Discretion of Management .... 239 47. Players' Views on the "True" Contribution of the Major League Baseball Player to American Culture, by Ethnic Category .... 244 48. Players’ Reaction to the Statement, "A Ball player Feels a Direct Association with History and Legendary Players of the Past," and, "Above the Din of the Average Guy Who Works for a Weekly or Hourly Wage," by Players' Education...................... 246 49. Players' Descriptions of the Typical Major Leaguer .......................... ..... 250 50. Players' Self-images..................... 255 51. Players' Perceptions of Their Personal Public Images .............................. 260 52. Players' Perceptions of the Public's View of the Life of the Major Leaguer........... 265 53. Players' "Honest Opinion" of the Average F a n ......................................... 267 54. Education of Black Players ................... 293 55. Education of Parents of Black Players .... 294 56. Players' Perceived Social Class, by Ethnic Category..................................... 296 57. White Players' Feelings about Playing Alongside Black Players ................... 303 ix Table Page 58. Perception of Differential Treatment of Black Players, by Ethnic Category and Type of Treatment............................ 307 59. Players' Choices of Free-time Partners, by Ethnic Category............................ 310 60. Roommate Assignments While Teams Are on the Road, by Ethnic Category.................. 312 x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Figure Page 1. Typical Recruitment Pattern into Major League Baseball ................................. 222 xi CHAPTER I THE PROBLEM AND ITS THEORETICAL ORIGINS Introduction: Background of the Problem This is an investigation of the major league base ball player as performer in a specialized occupational role. The study will focus on three interrelated areas of socio logical inquiry: first, the sociology of occupations; second, role theory and role behavior; and third, baseball itself as an example of a particular and unusual kind of social behavior. A thorough review of empirical research on the in stitution of baseball, along with a more selective report on some of the popular literature, will be presented in Chapter II. The work has been meager with regard to the former, and most of it deals with bureaucratic structure, economic variables, or psychological correlates of the occupational role such as personality traits of players. This present study lays claim to a certain originality in its attempt to 1 2 provide sociological data on the role incumbents themselves, and, in so doing, establish a typology which might serve to locate the occupation more precisely on several occupational classification continua which now exist. In striking contrast to the dearth of empirical data on baseball, the concepts of role and occupations have both been abundantly studied in recent years, an outcome, no doubt, of concern expressed by scholars that the two had been overlooked. For example, in his presidential address to the American Sociological Association in 1950, Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr. listed the role concept among "neglected problems" in social psychology?^ and S. Stansfeld Sargent stated a decade and a half ago, "The primary interest of social psychologists must be, I believe, clarification of the role concept and understanding of roles as they operate 2 in our daily social life." More recently, Raymond W. Mack said unequivocally, . . . to many of us, "role" is one of the basic analytic constructs, if not the core concept, in ^"Some Neglected Problems in Social Psychology," American Sociological Review. XV (December, 1950), 705-712. ^"Conceptions of Role and Ego in Contemporary Psy chology," in Social Psychology at the Crossroads, ed. by John H. Rohrer and Muzafer Sherif (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1951), p. 358. V 3 sociology and social psychology. Some taxonomy of roles, however simple, would seem desirable.^ Similarly, Mack and Harold G. Hubbard agree that the study of occupations is seriously lacking (and lagging) in certain principal areas, although not in all. They insist that sociologists need a theory of occupations, and this will come about only when typologies of occupations are sufficiently abundant to permit the building of interrelated propositions from which testable hypotheses can be de- 4 5 rived. 3 To this very same point, Everett C. Hughes has written: Until we can find a point of view and concepts which will enable us to make comparisons between the junk peddler and the professor without intent to debunk the one and patronize the other, we cannot do our best work in this field.^ The problem with the study of occupations, then, is 3"Occupational Determinateness: A Problem and Hypotheses in Role Theory," Social Forces. XXXV (October, 1956), 20. Hereinafter cited as Mack, "Occupational Deter minateness ." ^Ibid.. pp. 20-21. ^Harold G. Hubbard, "The Career Business Executive as a Definitive Occupational Type" (unpublished Ph.D. dis sertation, University "of Southern California, 1961), p. 5. Hereinafter cited as Hubbard, "Career Business Executive." ^Men and Their Work (London: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1958), p. 48. not that it has been entirely neglected until recently, but that it has been studied with too narrow a focus and with little attempt to combine research with theory in a coopera tive enterprise. Some areas in occupational sociology have, to be sure, been thoroughly investigated both broadly and specifically. The prestige ranking of occupations, for example, has been one topic of lively research interest for over half a century. Theodore Caplow reports, "The con struction of scales and other classification systems to measure the relative social rank of occupations has been a 7 vigorous branch of social research for several decades," and he cites a study done as early as 1897. Similarly, Robert W. Hodge and his associates state, "The prestige hierarchy of occupations is perhaps the best studied aspect g of the stratification systems of modern societies." In recent years, the study of roles, like occupa tions, has suffered not so much from neglect as from a lack of clarity and agreement. S. Frank Miyamoto has commented 7The Sociology of Work (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1954), p. 31. ^Robert W. Hodge, Paul M. Siegel, and Peter H. Rossi, "Occupational Prestige in the United States," Ameri can Journal of Sociology. LXX (November, 1964), 286. Here inafter cited as Hodge, et al.. "Occupational Prestige." on "the size and complexity of the literature on role," and Neal Gross and his co-researchers devote an entire chapter in their study of the school superintendency to a discussion . . 10 of the definition of role. One of the more incisive refinements of the role concept is presented by Ralph H. Turner, who prefaces his analysis with the statement, "Only a cursory glance at sociological journals is necessary to document both the great importance and divers applications of 'role theory' in current thought and research,"^ Perhaps the most thorough review of research and theory relating to the role concept is presented by Bruce 12 J. Biddle and Edwin J. Thomas. In the anthology which they edited and to which they contributed a substantial ^1 1 The Impact on Research of Different Conceptions of Role," Sociological Inquiry. XXXIII (Spring, 1963), 114. ■L^Neal Gross, Ward S. Mason, and Alexander W. McEachern, Explorations in Role Analysis (New York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1958), pp. 11-19. ■^"Role-Taking: Process Versus Conformity," in Human Behavior and Social Processes, ed. by Arnold M. Rose (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1962), p. 20. Hereinafter cited as Turner, "Role-Taking." ^ Role Theory: Concepts and Research (New York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1966), pp. 1-63. Hereinafter cited as Biddle and Thomas, Role Theory. 6 amount of their own writing, the first four chapters are of special interest. They are devoted not only to providing an organizational framework for the collection of readings, but also to a review of the entire history of role theory, a summary of attempts to classify conceptual schemes, and an explanation of the basic properties of role phenomena along with the variables generally included. Biddle and Thomas point out (and correctly so, according to reviewer Jerald 13 Hage in the American Sociological Review) that at present 14 there is no theory of roles. A good deal more will be said about clarification of meanings in Chapter II, but perhaps these few comments will serve to establish the focus of this present work. The conceptual framework of the study also merits attention in this brief introductory section. Linking of the two concepts "occupation" and "role" is common in the sociological literature, with the phrase "occupational role" used to represent expected patterns of behavior while one is pursuing his calling. Rarely, however, as Turner explicitly ^Review of Role Theory; Concepts and Research, by Biddle and Thomas, in American Sociological Review. XXXII (October, 1967), 857. ■^Biddle and Thomas, Role Theory, p. 3. points out, is the term "role" removed from a conformity model usage and applied, as George Herbert Mead intended it, 15 as an analytical tool for the study of processes. In other words, the study of occupations has only occasionally benefited from an "interactionist" approach,^ or, as it 17 18 sometimes is called, a "role theory" approach. 9 What research does exist in the all too infrequent marriage of interactionist theory and the study of occupations has been largely pioneered through the work of Everett C. Hughes and 19 his students. Although in a strict sense, this study on the major league baseball player cannot be considered an interaction ist approach, the fact that throughout the study emphasis is placed on the players' perceptions of their social role •^Turner, "Role-Taking," pp. 20-40, passim. ■^Arnold M. Rose, ed., Human Behavior and Social Processes (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1952). See his editorial comment, p. 225. 17 • . Ibid.. p. vni. -*-®Tamotsu Shibutani, Society and Personality (Engle wood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1961), p. 12. IQ For one example, see Robert W. Habenstein, "Sociol ogy of Occupations: The Case of the American Funeral Direc tor," in Human Behavior and Social Processes, pp. 225-246. 8 tends to link it congenially with that sociological per spective. In fact, interactionist theory is occasionally 20 referred to as "self-theory." Hughes, writing on the relationship between work and the self, expressed an ideal which, in direction and intent, is what this investigation of the baseball player hopes to accomplish: Our aim is to penetrate more deeply into the personal and social drama of work, to understand the social and psychological arrangements and devices by which men make their work tolerable, or even glorious to themselves and others.21 Statement of the Problem This dissertation attempts to solve two problems: (1) to determine the relationships between an occupational role that demands a high level of physical skill in role performance under highly focused and public circumstances and imposes strict normative controls on performers, and variables relating to role recruitment, role adjustment, role enactment, rewards and costs for playing the role, and related social processes; and (2) to determine the relation ships between the specific occupational role behavior of the major league baseball player and variables of political, ^^Shibutani, Society and Personality, p. 12. '7— V PI xMen and Their Work, p. 48. marital, moral, ethnic, and other forms of non-occupational behavior by role incumbents. In the first problem the emphasis is on the analysis and understanding of behavior for actors in this type of occupational role. Selected hypotheses, to be enumerated later in this chapter, are tested using a representative sample of major league players. There are several theoreti cal schemes in the sociological literature which attempt to arrange different occupations into categories, and it is from these as well as other sources that hypotheses relevant to the field of occupations have been generated. The emphasis in the second problem is on taxonomy, a necessary step in research when the investigator is break- 22 . ... xng new ground. A certain amount of description is un avoidable in nearly all research, and the construction of a typology of behavior calls for categorization and labeling. However, both of the problems to be confronted here lend themselves, in fact lead the investigator, to the formula tion of provocative theoretical statements. ^For a discussion of the uses of taxonomy, see Hans L. Zetterberg, On Theory and Verification in Sociology (Totowa, N. J.: The Bedminster Press, 1963), pp. 7-8. Theoretical Basis for the Study Hans Zetterberg has pointed out that "Most work in sociology has concentrated on the development of definitions of the descriptive categories that a sociologist is to use." He insists that since sociology (like geology, botany, and geography) is largely a descriptive science, the importance of such enterprise is apparent. However, he notes with some gratification that sociologists have been turning, in the past decade, less to descriptive studies (which after all do not furnish any "explanations") and more to verificational studies, that is, studies to test specific hypotheses de- 23 rived from general propositxons. The now commonplace observation that sociological theory and sociological research must build upon each other if the discipline is to preserve its status among the sci ences and contribute to the growth of human knowledge is 24 hardly debatable. The implications of such an indispen sable relationship are clear. In terms of Zetterberg's comments, sociologists who engage in taxonomy might well 23Ibid., pp. 8-9. 24see, for example, Robert K. Merton, Social Theory and Social Structure (rev. ed.; Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1957), pp. 85-117. 11 advance their research, not to say their discipline, if they were to enrich their work with a body of theory. With ref erence to this study, the construction of a typology of role behavior for the major league baseball player might be in complete unless the typical behavior patterns of the players could be shown to relate in some way with more general statements about the behavior of all men, or at the very least the behavior of men who fit certain generalized cate gories . One interesting attempt to relate occupational re search to a body of theory was made by Raymond Mack, who constructed a classification based on the degree of flexi bility in role expectations which a particular occupation possessed. His aim, it seems, was to contribute to role theory by building a taxonomy of roles, and he used occupa tions as his operational medium. Inviting empirical re search to test his ideal type constructs, Mack posited an occupational continuum in terms of polar types. These polar types, referred to as "determinate" versus "indeterminate" occupational statuses, are considered independent variables and hypotheses concerning the relationships between them and specific dependent variables are deduced and offered as claims on truth. "Determinate" occupational statuses are 12 defined as having elaborately prescribed requirements for entry which must be met by those about to become incumbents; the rights as well as the duties of the actor occupying the status will be spelled out and firmly estab lished, and known to both the actor and those with whom he interacts in his occupational role. The expectations of role behavior in such a status will be narrow in range and relatively definite. "Indeterminate" occupational statuses represent the opposite ideal type. They are characterized by less stringent requirements for entry into the occu pation, shifting with both time and locale within the subsystem; neither the rights nor the duties of the actor occupying the status will be firmly estab lished, and both will hence be a subject for poten tial misunderstanding between the actor and those with whom he interacts in his occupational role. The expectations of role behavior in such a status will be wide in range and relatively indefinite Examples include street cleaner as a relatively "indetermi nate" type and attorney as a relatively "determinate" type. Mack went to some lengths to attempt to validate his 26 27 typology, 3 and another researcher used Mack's scheme as ^Mack, "Occupational Determinateness," p. 22. ^Raymond w. Mack, Raymond J. Murphy and Seymour Yellin, "The Protestant Ethic, Level of Aspiration, and Social Mobility: An Empirical Test," American Sociological Review, XXI (June, 1956), 295-300. ^Mack, "Occupational Ideology and the Determinate Role," Social Forces. XXXVI (October, 1957), 37-44. 13 28 the basis for his study of business executives. One of the problems both men faced was the correct assignment of particular occupations somewhere along the continuum. The present study, however, accepts as a given that the occupation of major leaguer has a "determinate" occupa tional status. Without undue elaboration, it seems apparent after careful scrutiny that the definition of a "determi nate" occupational type, with its enumeration of strict entry requirements, clearly defined rights and duties, and narrow role expectations describes with exceeding accuracy the occupational role of the major league baseball player. If the role of major leaguer fits, as assumed, into a "determinate" occupational status, it follows that not only do the rights, duties, entry requirements, and role expectations have to satisfy the definition proposed by Mack, but specifically deduced relationships concerning dependent variables which have been hypothesized for the same status must be shown to exist for the role. One of this study's central concerns is to test several of Mack's deduced hypotheses against empirical evidence to determine if they are valid generalizations. It is conceivable, of ^Hubbard, "Career Business Executive." 14 course, that these hypotheses, or at least some of them, will not hold for the occupational role of major league baseball player. In that case, either the limits of inclu sion and exclusion of a "determinate" occupational status will have to be modified, or, and this seems more likely, this particular occupational role will have to be consid ered a special case and new theorizing will be needed to accommodate such a highly specialized occupation so that it might be placed into a suitable conceptual category. This last point will be amplified later in the dis cussion, since it has theoretical implications of potential importance. If it can be shown that the occupation of major leaguer is. different and does not conform to general hypoth eses about occupational behavior, then it may be possible to claim unique status for it. In such a case, the importance of taxonomy becomes evident. Nine hypotheses were proposed and subsequently tested by Mack. Either because they are unamenable for testing under the present research circumstances, or because they can be affirmed or refuted for this sample by simple inspection, several of the 9 have not been considered. Those hypotheses which have been selected are listed below under "Hypotheses.” 15 In a discussion pertinent to the status of occupa tions , Theodore Caplow has suggested that people working in occupations with high status in any stratification system tend to enjoy certain perquisites in the form of personal freedom and a degree of immunity from moral sanctions. Ex treme examples, according to Caplow, are some branches of engineering, advertising and sales management, and some highly skilled industrial trades. On the other hand, he states that occupations especially charged with social responsibility require their actors to function as role models, and thus we should expect to find rather strict regulation over the nonoccupational behavior of these peo- 29 pie. He uses school teachers as a typical example. Exceptions, however, include movie actors and jour nalists, who apparently operate under quite different sets of norms "and enjoy considerable license in their "off-duty" 30 . . behavior despite their role-setting functions. A simi larity between professional ballplayers and movie actors is readily apparent. It would seem safe to assume that Caplow would assign the same controls (or lack of them) to the former as to the latter. ^ The Sociology of Work, p . 129. 3^Ibid.. p. 130. 16 Erving Goffman, in his influential and much-quoted paper entitled "Role Distance," proposes a slightly differ- 31 ent view. He sees control over nonoccupational behavior as related to the firmness of the grasp which the occupation has on its incumbent, rather than in terms of the role's social responsibility or its function as a model. He con tends that occupations with the firmest grasp on their per formers, or, as he chooses to call them, "focused roles," often carry identifying implications for the performer when he is away from the role setting. Further, he hypothesizes that these "unfocused consequences" of focused roles may carry much of the reward or punishment of playing them. He argues, in fact, that a role may even be formulated in pro portion to the degree that the focused task performance begins to have significance for the way the performer is seen in other situations. In his words: . . . the social psychology of identification moves always from a situated system in which a situated role is performed to wider worlds in which the mere fact of this performance comes to carry significance. The implication is, of course, that control over 3^Encounters (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill Co., Inc., 1961), pp. 85-152, "Role Distance" is one of 2 stud ies in the sociology of interaction in this book. 32lbid., p. 150. 17 "off-duty" behavior increases in proportion to the strict ness of role prescriptions while a performer is "on-duty." There seems to be little doubt that professional baseball players work under the strictest of occupational norms while in the focused setting of the ball park, during public ap pearances, and when otherwise representing their team in an official capacity. The question raised by Goffman seems to be whether or not such controls carry over to non-focused situations or into the private lives of these public fig ures . Caplow and Goffman disagree. The former makes an exception for certain public figures with role or model- setting functions, while the latter does not. Caplow stresses the importance of an occupation's social responsi bility as a determinant of the degree of control exercised over the nonoccupational behavior of its participants, while Goffman stresses the relationship between formal occupation al controls while at work and less formal but just as effec tive controls while the performer is not working. Here, it seems, are several challenging ideas to put to an empirical test. It would be interesting to try to discover if the relatively high status occupation of major league baseball player does, in fact, strictly control the 18 33 nonoccupational behavior of its role incumbents. If it does, then presumably Goffman's hypothesis will be sup ported, since this occupational role has already been de fined as having a "determinate" status which is conceptually similar, if not completely equivalent, to a "focused role." If, on the other hand, controls over nonoccupational behav ior of the major league baseball player are found to be relatively loose, Caplow's hypothesis will be supported that the well-known entertainer is an exception to the general rule that occupations serving as models and having social responsibility are the most strictly controlled. Also worth testing is Goffman's idea that focused roles carry important identifying characteristics and may supply rewards and pun ishments for a performer when he is off duty. Another source used to generate hypotheses is an old but nonetheless provocative article by Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr. entitled "The Adjustment of the Individual to His Age •^■^The occupation of baseball player does not appear on the revision of the NORC Occupational Prestige Scale (see Hodge, Siegel, and Rossi, "Occupational Prestige," pp. 290- 291). Neither does movie actor. Night club singer has the low rank of 74; symphony musician the high rank of 34.5. It appears that no easy generalization about entertainers can be made. The assumption of high occupational status for ballplayers is based, for want of better criteria, on vari ables of income and popularity. 19 34 and Sex Roles." The author claims that, although the propositions he presents deal specifically with age-sex 35 roles, they can apply equally to any social role. For the purposes of this study, they will be applied to occupational roles. A few words about "adjustment" seem appropriate here. This is a difficult concept to operationalize, es pecially with respect to occupational roles. Cottrell sug gests that amounts of tension, anxiety, and frustration generated during the discovery and actual enactment of a given role may be taken as a measure of adjustment to it. However, such a measure is unfeasible for this research, since the sample presents unique methodological problems, especially in terms of access to and time with the subjects. Instead, it was reasoned that "success" and "adjust ment" are terms whose meanings have a good deal in common, although they are certainly not synonymous. In one sense, a player who has reached the major leagues after long years of apprenticeship in the minors, and before that on sandlots throughout the country, might be considered already to have • ^American Sociological Review. VII (October, 1942), 617-620. Hereinafter cited as Cottrell, "Adjustment of the Individual." 33Ibid.. p. 618. 20 succeeded. Could it not be assumed that he would also be adjusted? The answer is complex. Some people are success ful by society's standards but poorly adjusted according to their own evaluations; others are well-adjusted by both their own and society's standards, but judged to be unsuc cessful by others. The answer, it appears, rests with the perceiver. However, psychologist Anne Roe suggests a new dimension and a possible way out of the dilemma by stating: There can be still another definition of success; ^ that a person has not only held his job or followed his occupational career steadily, or even has become famous, but that he has generally derived satisfac tion and pleasure from it. . . . ® The idea of satisfaction and pleasure, or in short, "happi ness," as a measure of occupational adjustment is not only a common sense view of adjustment but is consistent with the social psychological idea which urges investigators to take into account the standpoint of the individual when trying to 37 understand social processes. If it can be assumed, a, priori, that "happiness" is a suitable replacement concept ually for "success," the problem becomes one of measuring 3^The Psychology of Occupations (New York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1956), p. 281. ■^For example, see Shibutani, Society and Personal- ity:, p. 279. 21 degree of happiness as perceived by the player, so that degree of adjustment can be ascertained. Cottrell asks whether adjustment is a result of interaction by an individual with role models, and of role rehearsal prior to attaining full role incumbency. In terms of the problem, will the baseball player who indicates he is happiest with his occupational role also be the one who, as a child, had ample opportunity for intimate contact with persons already functioning in the role? Will this same happy player be the one who enjoyed, as a youth, consider able "imaginal or incipient rehearsal in the future role"? And is it the happiest player who had the most chance to "practice in the role through play or other similar activ- 38 ity"? Properly operationalized, these questions can pro vide the impetus for some rather thought-provoking research into the problems of adjustment to an occupational role. Up to this point, all of the propositions discussed relate to the first of the two problems which this research addresses, and which were enumerated earlier. Hypotheses for the second problem come not necessarily from the liter ature of the social sciences, although they conceivably 3®Cottrell, "Adjustment of the Individual," p. 619. 22 could appear there, but rather from popular writings and/or popularly held beliefs which, though largely unverified, are not necessarily untrue. Perhaps the findings of this re search will help to decide these issues. Other ideas come from knowledge acquired during personal observations of baseball players over a period of some ten years of association with the sport, both on and off the playing field. Certain generalized expectations for the players1 behavior have suggested themselves and these have been set down in a systematic way so they can be ex posed to sociological analysis. Questions ranging from religious and political affiliations to typical movie and television viewing habits are asked of the sample of play ers. Their responses may provide the building blocks for the construction of an "ideal typology" for the major leaguer as a person, just as the responses to questions aimed at testing the first group of hypotheses may lead to an "ideal typology" for the major leaguer as an actor in an 39 occupational role. 39por a discussion of the concept of an "ideal typology," see Chapter VII. 23 Hypotheses Mack hypothesized: . . . the person in a determinate occupational status will view his work as an end in itself and will de fine future goals in terms of his present job, while a person in an indeterminate occupational status will view his work as instrumental and will define life goals primarily as money. He will more often, then, view his present job as a means of gaining entry into some other occupational status,^0 Since it was already pointed out that the baseball player is unquestionably in a "determinate" occupational status, the first hypothesis may be stated: Hypothesis I. The major league baseball player will view his work as an end in itself and will define his future goals in terms of his present job? he will not consider his job to be instrumental, he will not define life goals primarily as money, nor will he view his present job as a means of gaining 41 entry into some other occupational status. Mack reasoned further that, as a result of the amount of training needed, the difficulty involved in ^PaII of the following discussion relating to Mack's hypotheses is drawn from Mack, "Occupational Determinate- ness," pp. 23-24. 41criteria for accepting or rejecting hypotheses vary according to the data and the meaning of each situa tion. Where statistical tests are used, generally accepted significance levels apply. In other cases, comparisons with census data and national norms are utilized. 24 gaining occupational status, and the ends orientation of the "determinate" role compared with just the opposite standards for the 1 1 indeterminate" role, there would be a difference in the type and number of reference groups utilized by each. Persons in "determinate" statuses, he hypothesized, would tend to have one clearly defined reference group made up of their peers, and would consider these peers the only persons competent to judge them. By contrast, those in "indetermi nate" statuses would tend to have a number of fluctuating reference groups, and such groups might change not only dur ing the course of a work day but also over an entire occu pational history. The second hypothesis may now be stated: Hypothesis II. The major league baseball player will derive his values and standards of conduct from a reference group made up of other players or offi cials within the profession and will consider these people the primary ones competent to judge his per formance; he will not rely upon a number of refer ence groups, nor will he change from one to another over the course of his occupational career. Studies of intergenerational occupational mobility seem to indicate that most people move either horizontally or into adjacent strata rather than over a wider range of 25 42 positions. Leaning on this evidence, and considering his means-ends hypothesis, Mack predicts that horizontal inter generational mobility will be the characteristic pattern for both 1 1 determinate" and "indeterminate" statuses, but that there will more likely be upward intergenerational mobility at the time of entry into the labor force for "determinate" statuses and downward intergenerational mobility at the same time for "indeterminate" statuses. The third hypothesis will then read: Hypothesis III. The major league baseball player characteristically will experience horizontal inter generational mobility, but vertically mobile players will more likely move upward than downward at the time of entry into the labor force. The suggestion of an ends orientation, and confine ment to a single reference group, led Mack to propose that "determinate" statuses will provide greater stability to occupational roles than will "indeterminate" ones, and this stability will apply to total careers, to continuity of AO Percy E. Davidson and H. Dewey Anderson, Occupa tional Mobility in an American Community (Palo Alto: Stan ford University Press, 1937)? Natalie Rogoff, Recent Trends in Occupational Mobility (Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1953)? Seymour Martin Lipset and Reinhard Bendix, Social Mobility in Industrial Society (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1963), esp. pp. 13-28. 26 employment, and to occupational status. By contrast, "in determinate" statuses will create roles that will show greater instability, probably a result, he suggests, of the means orientation and the large number of changing reference groups. The fourth hypothesis follows: Hypothesis IV. The major league baseball player will enjoy career stability in general, with con tinuity in employment and consistency of occupa tional status, rather than instability, discontinu ity of employment and a shifting occupational sta tus . Another hypothesis suggested by Mack proposes that persons in "determinate" statuses will behave in a manner that demonstrates deferred gratification. Objective meas ures of deferred gratification among ballplayers are diffi cult to obtain. Simple inspection of career recruitment patterns of professional athletes reveals a certain amount of such deferral, but usually the individual player makes no choice to do so. In fact, the choice is usually made by others, scouts or managers, who decide the minor league assignments, the promotion cycle, and the termination of employment, often in consultation with other officials in a particular organization. Thus, the very fact that ball players spend long, arduous years in the minor leagues and 27 on sandlots across the country trying to perfect their skills, lends prima facie support to Mack's hypothesis. To test his idea further, the fifth hypothesis is proposed, which recognizes the relationship that such asceticism has to the traditional doctrine which Max Weber labeled the 43 Protestant Ethic, and which expands on Mack's suggested relationships by incorporating other basic tenets of this Ethic into the hypothesis. It reads: Hypothesis V. The major league baseball player will espouse, accept, and practice, in large measure, the 44 traditional tenets of the Protestant Ethic. Cottrell's propositions about role adjustment which were discussed earlier provide the basis for Hypotheses VI and VII, which are stated in more abstract terms than the other hypotheses, but it should be clear that they refer 4^Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, trans. by Talcott Parsons (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1958), Hereinafter cited as Weber, The Protestant Ethic. 44A clear and concise listing of the main points in Max Weber's typology appears in Leonard Broom and Philip Selznick, Sociology: A Text with Adapted Readings (3rd ed.; New York: Harper and Row, 1963), pp. 630-632. Hereinafter cited as Broom and Selznick, Sociology. Included among the major tenets of the Protestant Ethic are self-discipline, hard work, initiative, acquisition, individualism and compe tition. Implied along with these are thrift, abhorrence of waste, avoidance of worldly pleasure and asceticism. operationally to major league ballplayers: 28 Hypothesis VI. The degree of adjustment, measured by the degree of professed happiness, in an occupa tional role varies directly with the opportunity for intimate prior contact with persons functioning, or who have functioned, in the role. Hypothesis VII. The degree of adjustment, measured by the degree of professed happiness, in an occupa tional role varies directly with the opportunity for prior rehearsal or practice in the role. In both of these last two hypotheses, the more the opportunity for prior intimate contact or opportunity for rehearsal and practice in the role, the greater the degree of professed happiness or adjustment. The Caplow-Goffman discussion amplified above leads to Hypotheses VIII and IX: Hypothesis VIII. The major league baseball player, enjoying relatively high occupational status and at the same time subject to clearly prescribed occupa tional controls while enacting his formal role, will find his nonoccupational behavior to be under simi lar strict controls which carry over from his occu pational identity. Hypothesis IX. The major league baseball player will experience both positive and negative 29 consequences of enacting his highly specialized occupational role which will affect his nonoccupa tional or private behavior. The final group of hypotheses to be offered come, as stated earlier, from a variety of sources including popular stereotypes, ideas and opinions of sportswriters or other baseball chroniclers, and personal observations based on the experiences of the writer. The first relates to race and ethnic relations. American professional sports in general, but base ball in particular, are considered to be a model of democ racy when it comes to race and ethnic relations. One vet eran sportswriter proudly stated in a recent book, Race discrimination fades in the face of talent. Though prejudice has not been completely removed from sports, the field of sports is far ahead of the rest of the nation in the practice of democ- 45 racy. J Personal experiences, however, as well as random newspaper accounts of complaints by individual players over a long period of time suggest the possibility of a different con clusion. Not only is there reason to question that dis- 4^Stan Isaacs, Careers and Opportunities in Snorts (New York: E. P. Dutton and Co., Inc., 1964), p. 27. Here inafter cited as Isaacs, Careers. 30 crimination fades in the face of talent, but the general notion that baseball is somehow exemplary of democratic liv ing is debatable. A brief discussion of this latter con tention may be found in Appendix B under the section head ing, "Baseball and the Player: Some Final Thoughts." The first part of the claim, about discrimination, is the basis for the tenth hypothesis, which reads: Hypothesis X . Racial and ethnic equality in major league baseball is a matter of financial expedience, and is practiced only insofar as it is convenient and profitable for the white establishment; further, a substantial social distance exists between white and black players. Another point of view which appears to be widely accepted about ballplaying, or any entertainment occupation for that matter, is that the role is accompanied with gla mour, excitement, and rewards, monetary or otherwise, which far outweigh the costs. While there probably is substantial truth to this idea, personal knowledge of some of the spe cific role requirements, as well as the recent trend toward the formation of a union-type players organization aimed at improving salaries and removing certain job-related inequi ties, lead to a conclusion that some modification of the 31 46 popular belief is justified. Hence, the following hypoth esis: Hypothesis XI. The major league baseball player, performing in a highly specialized and publicly viewed occupational role with "determinate" status, will perceive his occupation as a desirable but pre carious business, containing substantial rewards but also considerable costs which contribute to a sig nificant amount of job dissatisfaction, contrary to popular belief. The last 3 hypotheses are grouped together under the general heading of personal values, attitudes and patterns of behavior which are nonoccupational, although they may be affected by occupational identification. These sub-hypothe ses represent reasonable expectations based on popular views of the major leaguer as a person, as well as on the personal observations of this writer: Hypothesis XII. In general, the major league base ball player, being involved in a "determinate," highly specialized, and publicly viewed occupational ^See, e.g., Harry Bernstein, "Many Pro Athletes Already Belong to Unions," Los Angeles Times. February 8, 1966, sec. 3, p. 5; Milton Richman, "Ballplayers Making under $12,000 Are Underpaid, Says Yank Pitcher," Los Angeles Times. June 24, 1967, sec. 2, p. 5; "Owners' Concessions Approved by Players," Los Angeles Times. January 27, 1968, sec. 2, p. 5. 32 role will, in private life: (a) be relatively uncommitted and uninvolved politi cally; (b) be a consumer of popular culture rather than high culture; (c) experience, with relatively greater frequency than the general public, marital instability and dissolution. Definitions of Terms The terms listed and defined in this section of the dissertation are those about which some confusion over pre cise meanings might arise. Other terms whose meanings are apparent, which currently are part of common usage and are unlikely to be misunderstood, or for which definitions have been provided where appropriate in the body of this study, are not included. Roles.— In organized groups, where the division of labor is clearly defined, the contributions expected of the various participants may be called roles. Role adjustment.— As used in this work, role adjust ment refers to self-evaluation by a role incumbent that he is happy with his occupational role. Social distance.— "Social distance is the degree of 33 sympathetic understanding that functions between person and person, between person and group, and between group and 47 group." Instrumental occupational goal.— An instrumental occupational goal is one which is pursued as a means to an ultimate goal beyond that which the occupation itself can offer. Consummatorv occupational goal.— A consummatory occupational goal is one which is pursued for its own sake, for pleasure.^ Reference group.— A reference group is that group, real or imaginary, whose standpoint is being used as the 49 frame of reference by the actor. Intergenerational mobility.--Intergenerational mo bility refers to the degree to which sons differ from their ^Emory S. Bogardus, Social Distance (Yellow Springs, Ohio: The Antioch Press, 1959), p. 7. 4®The definitions both of instrumental and consum matory used here follow George A. Lundberg, Clarence C. Schrag, and Otto N. Larsen, Sociology (3rd ed.; New York: Harper and Row, 1963), p. 306. ^Shibutani, Society and Personality, p. 257. 34 fathers in horizontal or vertical occupational status at a comparable point in their respective careers. Limitations of the Research It should be made clear that this study is limited to an investigation of a single, highly specialized, and publicly visible occupation whose "determinate" status im poses strong claims and obligations on its skilled role in cumbents. It is carried on under circumstances which are common to only a few related occupations. Therefore, gen eralizations to other occupational roles, even other "de terminate" roles, must be cautiously drawn. In addition, although a selected number of relevant hypotheses are being tested here, it should be clear that this research by no means exhausts the propositions that could and should be studied, nor is any claim made that this work is a definitive or complete investigation of the occu pational role of the major league baseball player. Sugges tions for further research are presented in Chapter VII. Finally, since this study deals with occupational leaders, men who have reached the pinnacle of their profes sion, inquiries related to role-recruitmeht patterns, early role models, or similar retrospective problems must rely almost entirely on the memories of the respondents. The use of a control group for comparison, or completion of a longi tudinal study, were unfeasible given the limitations on time, money, and access to research data which existed. Other specific limitations, of a methodological nature, are enumerated and explained in Chapter III. CHAPTER II REVIEW OF THE LITERATURE Introduction Two categories of literature are directly relevant to the particular occupational role under investigation. The first concerns the subject of major league baseball and baseball players as it appears popularly in sports columns, novels, and similar writings. The second deals with the same topic as it has been studied systematically by social and behavioral scientists. In addition to reviewing the literature on baseball, considerable discussion is devoted throughout the study to sociological literature on occupations and on roles which contribute to a better understanding of the problem. Spe cific reference is made, where the data indicate, to sup portive or explanatory evidence in areas such as occupa tional mobility, occupational status and prestige scaling, social class, social distance, the sociology of religious 36 37 and political behavior, marriage and family, the sociology of work and leisure, and a variety of similarly pertinent fields. Popular Literature on Baseball Probably no other aspect of American culture is so well documented and carefully analyzed in virtually rivers of print as the major sports. There, is an incredibly vast storehouse of baseball memorabilia in the form of novels for boys, novels for adults, biographies, autobiographies, mem oirs, histories, anecdotal reports, innumerable magazine and newspaper articles and other written records ad infinitum. It would be impossible to review any significant proportion of these symbols of American recreational preoccupation without neglecting all else in this report and devoting full time and energy to the task. In the paragraphs that follow, there is a selection of some of the more important publica tions ranging across a variety of different literary forms and media. These can easily be consulted, if further in formation is desired, to find statistical, biographical, historical, or other data of the most refined or romantic sort, either in the specific works cited or in material re ferred to in them. 38 Perhaps the appropriate place to begin this review is with the St. Louis Sporting News, affectionately called "the ballplayers' bible" by people in the game.'*' The Sport ing News began reporting on professional baseball in 1886. It is published weekly and contains news of all leagues in America, including Latin American countries and Canada. It appears in newspaper format, and it is no exaggeration to say that the players wait for its appearance eagerly and pore over its entire contents religiously, just as many fans do. An added appeal is its annual selections of the most valuable players in each league, of an all-star team, and of a rookie of the year in each league. To be chosen on any of these is considered a major accomplishment and one of the highest honors the profession offers. This study makes oc casional reference to the Sporting News, since both its news stories and its policy statements are influential in re flecting and shaping the values and standards of players and management. The same publishers of the Sporting News offer to the baseball public an elaborate series of paperback books under the title, "The Spink Library of Sports Publications." ■ ^ •Sporting News. St. Louis: Charles C. Spink & Son, 1886-1968. Included are the Official Baseball Guide, published yearly, and containing among other data the major and minor league batting, fielding, and pitching averages for the past sea son, a complete directory of organized baseball with names and addresses of executives, managers, and players for every team, and complete coverage of the All-Star Game and the World Series; the Baseball Register, containing autographs, photographs, facts, figures, and personal data on all major league players, managers, coaches, and former stars; the Dope Book. providing complete major league rosters of play ers and club officials, park diagrams, uniform colors, ticket prices, attendance data, radio-television logs, and other similar information; One for the Book, giving all the important records and who achieved them, as well as many little-known statistics; World Series Records, reporting complete box scores of all Series games from 1903 to the present, plus all-time Series records and an alphabetical list of all Series participants; Knotty Problems, featuring rulings on the intricate plays that arise; Official Baseball Rules. providing, as its name conveys, the latest revisions of playing rules as well as scoring procedures; Batting Averages at a Glance, the contents of which are apparent; How to Plav Baseball, offering simple instructions by former 40 stars Hornsby, Sisler, Wagner, Cobb and others with diagrams and photographs; Daguerreotypes. giving complete playing records of all members of the Baseball Hall of Fame and more than 35 0 players of the past. Another paperback similar to those listed above is the annual Official Baseball Almanac, which, in addition to publishing the batting and fielding averages which are ubiq uitous in baseball books, carries a chronicle of important 2 events which occurred during the previous season. The Office of the Baseball Commissioner publishes an attractive 45-page brochure entitled Baseball: The Game— The Career— The Opportunity, which "is devoted to helping 3 the young man who is wondering about a career in baseball." It is obviously and openly a propaganda instrument where the glamour of the sport is emphasized. Various section head ings indicate that baseball offers advantages in promotion, sheer enjoyment, ample free time, recognition, time avail able for the pursuit of higher education, travel, good com panions, opportunity to meet new friends, a healthy life, p ^Official Baseball Almanac, comp, and ed. by Bill Wise (Greenwich, Conn.: Fawcett Publishers, Inc., Gold Medal Books, published yearly) . ^Brochure prepared by the Office of the Baseball Commissioner (New York: Charles Francis Press [1963]). 41 financial, medical, and retirement security, and a chance to make important contacts that open doors to business careers after active playing days are over. More will be said about the implications of some of these claims later. In addition to these, there are the sports magazines which carry weekly or monthly stories on any baseball- related subject likely to pique the interest of an already addicted following. Even the national news and picture weeklies such as Time. Newsweek. Look. and Life print topi cal stories about baseball, and Ebony regularly carries articles about Negro players. The biographies and autobiographies make up another substantial body of baseball literature. The stars, as well as recently retired players who may have been stars, often set down portions of their memoirs effectively, either through a ghostwriter, which is the usual procedure, or by themselves. Examples of this kind include Jackie Robinson (1950) by Bill Roeder; Baseball Is a Funny Game (1962) by Joe Garagiola? Yogi (1961) by Yogi Berra and Ed Fitzgerald; Maybe 1111 Pitch Forever (1962) by LeRoy (Satchel) Paige and David Lipman; Veeck— as in Wreck (1962), by Bill Veeck with Ed Linn, a story of a baseball executive rather than a play er, but one whose colorful career was (and is) well-known 42 to baseball fans; and one of the most recent books in this 4 category, Koufax (1966) by Sandy Koufax and Ed Linn. All of these mentioned works, and many more like them, combine a jaunty writing style with snatches of intimate exposure of the lives of the celebrities about whom they are written. In nearly every case, an experienced sportswriter co-authors a book, writes it by himself, or is given lavish credit for his “help." An example of this last type is the Garagiola work named above. An excerpt from Baseball Is a Funny Game will illustrate the kind of material to be found: There was no Little League in Italy, so it was hard for Papa Garagiola . . . to understand why you had to catch a ball, let alone have a glove to catch it with, and why you needed special shoes to run in, especially when you couldn1t wear them to church on Sunday.^ Needless to say, baseball biographies and autobiog raphies have proven to be popular. Baseball Is a Funny Game went through 12 printings in the original hard-bound 1960 Lippincott edition and was in its fifth soft-bound Bantam printing at year's end of 1965. ^Rather than list each of these in a footnote, dates and authors have been supplied in the body of the text. If further information is desired, the Bibliography carries complete references for each work cited. ^(New York: Bantam Books, 1962), p. 2. 43 Besides the kinds of material about baseball already noted, there is a substantial body of writing which falls into the category of encyclopedic analysis of the game. In cluded are histories, chronologies, critiques, and personal reminiscences. One of the best-known works of this type is The Official Encyclopedia of Baseball, which reviews the history of organized baseball in this country and elsewhere and is sprinkled liberally with amusing and dramatic anec dotes among the statistics and biographical sketches.^ The History of Baseball is another popular and adroitly written 7 account of the evolution of the sport. The well-known novelist James T. Farrell authored an amusing and at the same time perceptive account of his personal experiences g with "our national pastime" entitled My Baseball Diary. Another work of note is Lee Allen's 100 Years of Baseball. especially for its then fresh look (1950) at the entry of 9 the first Negro into the major leagues. Sport in American ^Hy Turkin and S. C. Thompson, The Official Encyclo pedia of Baseball (rev. ed.; New York: A. S. Barnes & Co., 1956). ^Allison Danzig and Joe Reichler, The History of Baseball (Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1959) . ®New York: A. S. Barnes & Co., 1957. %ew York: Bartholemew House, Inc., 1950. 44 Life does not deal with baseball exclusively but is worthy of special mention for its inclusion of sports among the "arts" of humanity, a fundamental form of human expression basic to all cultures the same as music, poetry, and paint- 10 m g . An exceptionally well-written and uncommonly thor ough book by the senior editor of Sports Illustrated. Robert H. Boyle, is Sport— Mirror of American Life.^ This work merits attention because of 3 features: first, it attempts to confront the question of the psychological basis of sport in American life, and cites valuable material on a subject which this study discusses in some detail later; second, it devotes an entire chapter to the Negro baseball player, also a matter to which this work turns at some length; and third, it contains valuable bibliographical comments on a variety of books and articles including anthologies on sport in general, and readings on baseball in particular. Boyle, in a free-swinging critique of sports litera ture, makes this comment: ■^Florence Stumpf and Frederic Cozens, Sport in American Life (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1953), pp. Iff. ■^Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1963. 45 Most of the torrent of books since the 1920s on in dividual sports and heroes of the moment are worth less; but among the first rate [is] . . . Harold Seymour, Baseball: The Earlv Years (New York, 1960), the first of a two-volume work that should stand as 1 P the definitive history of the national game.'1 There are a number of early treatises on baseball, 13 most of which merit little more than a mention. However, one recently revised and updated general historical survey of American recreation does. Foster Rhea Dulles’ A History of Recreation: America Learns to Play is an ambitious so cial and philosophical analysis of national character in- 14 terpreted through the medium of leisure-time activity. The book ranges from "husking bees and tavern sports" to P. T. Barnum to "the role of motion pictures" to "the new leisure." Its particular relevance here is that baseball is viewed in context with other recreational activities which lends a perspective often lacking in other works. In addi tion, there is a section on suggested readings which lists 12Ibid.. p. 282. ^Some of these include: Albert G. Spaulding, Amer ica's National Game (New York: American Sports Pub. Co., 1911); Alfred H. Spink, The National Game (St. Louis: Na tional Game Pub. Co., 1910); George Wright, "Sketch of the National Game of Baseball," Records of the Columbia Histori cal Society. XXIII (1920), 80ff.; Robert W. Henderson, Ball. Batj. and Bishop (New York: Rockport Press, 1947). ^New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1965. 46 other noteworthy books on recreation, and a 35-page bibliog raphy containing ample source material to suit the most bizarre recreational tastes. In a slightly different direction, Jack Mann's new book entitled The Decline and Fall of the New York Yankees is one of several recently published works which strips away the romance and lays bare the cold and hard business facts 15 about baseball. Although the writer's style is much like that of many popular and uncritical books on the subject of baseball, there is an underlying objectivity which stamps his approach as unique. One reviewer describes the book this way: Baseball is treated with the seriousness a complex business deserves that builds costly stadiums with needed tax money and then charges the generous pub lic three times the wholesale price for beer to watch its heroes. Baseball is the game that American boys are brought up to believe is uncontaminated— like the roll of true dice— by nothing fsic 1 but fate. Mann pries open the public relations fist of the Yankee "Corporate Concept" and shows you the brass knuckles that pound out their dream image.^ Similar to Mann's effort to the extent that it deals ■^New York: Simon and Schuster, 1967. ^Morris Renek, "Sports Section," review of The De cline and Fall of the New York Yankees., in the New Republic. June 24, 1967, pp. 25-26. 47 with the business side of sports, but more inclined toward being a career guide than an expose, is Stan Isaacs' Careers and Opportunities in Sports. Isaacs, for many years a sports columnist for the Long Island daily Newsday. has written what was intended as a factual and statistical sur vey of the advantages and disadvantages which a career in various sports fields has to offer. His book is a modus onerandi for young men interested in professional sports. It argues for the prestige accompanying the occupation, the worth of an education prior to entering, and the "debt" which a participant owes to society. However, with only a token commentary on some of the drawbacks involved, Isaacs tends to glorify the career field. For example, his chapter on "Democracy in Sports" is a superficial and banal render ing of shibboleths (e.g., "Sports is one of the great out- 17 posts of democracy in this country"). One other book deserves mention, also in the "fond memories" category. Although the author, Lawrence S. Rit ter, a leading economist and chairman of the Department of Finance at the Graduate School of Business Administration, New York University, is obviously a social scientist, his 17Careers, p. 108. 48 book, The Glory of Their Times, does not pretend to be an 18 empirical work. As the long, descriptive subtitle pro claims, it is "The Story of the Early Days of Baseball Told by the Men Who Played It." Professor Ritter acknowledges that he really did not "write" the book? rather, it was spoken to him. He tape-recorded the personal remembrances of 22 old-time great baseball players whose playing careers spanned nearly half a century. What has emerged from con versations with men such as Sam Crawford (playing years, 1899-1917), Chief Meyers (1909-1917), Lefty O'Doul (1919- 1934), and Paul Waner (1926-1945) is a dramatic, sometimes funny, and nearly always appealing insight into the lives and times of some of the fabled characters in baseball his tory. The bulk of popular literature (or any, for that matter) on the black player in baseball is nearly all of rather recent vintage. This is so simply because, prior to 1946, black players were barred from the all-white profes sional leagues. Most of the encyclopedic and historical references already cited contain chapters, sections, or notations about black players. In the biographical and ^®New York: The Macmillan Co., 1966. 49 autobiographical category a number of books have appeared, several of which, understandably, are about Jackie Robin- 19 son. Other works about black players include the afore mentioned book about Leroy (Satchel) Paige (Paige and Lip- 20 man, 1962), The Willie Mavs Storv. and, although the sub ject of the book is not black, the story of Branch Rickey is mentioned because of Rickey's joint effort with Robinson to 21 break the baseball col-or line. The well-known and widely read Negro sportswriter A. S. "Doc" Young has written 2 excellent books about Negro athletes: Great Negro Baseball Stars and Nearo Firsts in 22 Snorts . The first chronicles the history of black •^A partial listing includes: Jackie Robinson as told to Wendell Smith, Jackie Robinson (New York: Greenberg Pub., 1948); Bill Roeder, Jackie Robinson: Carl G. Rowan with Jackie Robinson, Wait Till Next Year (New York: Random House, 196 0); and Jackie R. Robinson, Baseball Has Done It (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Co., 1964), this last not, strictly speaking, "about" Robinson but rather a series of candid interviews by him with Negro players who discuss both the accomplishments and persistent needs of their race in baseball. ^^Milton J. Shapiro, The Willie Mays Story (New York: Julian Messner, Inc., 1960). ^Arthur Mann, Branch Rickey (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1957). ^Great Negro Baseball Stars (New York: A. S. 50 baseball players from the nineteenth century's waning years through the "all-Negro" leagues and up to the opening of the major leagues to black players. The second covers a wide range of sports from boxing to golf to jockeying to women athletes, and has an especially good chapter about Jackie Robinson and Branch Rickey with the appropriate title, "You Can't Fight Back" (pp. 115-161). There has been a plethora of magazine and newspaper articles about black baseball players in recent years. Much of the explanation for this lies in the fact that black athletes in nearly all sports, amateur and professional, have recently been earning a disproportionate share of hon ors. Any significant listing of the articles here would be impossible. It would be valuable, however, to note the sudden appearance of a large number of articles soon after 23 Jackie Robinson entered white professional baseball. Barnes & Co., Inc., 1953); and Negro Firsts in Sports (Chi cago: Johnson Pub. Co., Inc., 1963). It should be noted that the word "Negro" is used with reference to Young and occasionally to others throughout the dissertation because these men use the term themselves or because the term is part of a title. However, the phrase "black players" is commonly accepted in the sports world today, and hence is used in this dissertation. ^•^Here are some examples: Arthur Mann, "Say Jack Robinson," Colliers. CXVII (March 2, 1946), 67-68; John Chamberlain, "Brains, Baseball, and Branch Rickey," Harpers. 51 A final area of popular baseball literature is the novel. Aside from the substantial number of dime novels for boys, exemplified by Gilbert Patten's stories about Frank Merriwell and his last-minute heroics along with the works 24 of Ralph Henry Barbour and John R. Tunis, there have been very few good works of fiction with baseball as the setting. The highly acclaimed novelist Bernard Malamud wrote a base- 25 ball novel, The Natural. in which he attempted, often with tongue-in-cheek humor, to show both the idiocy and necessity CXCVI (April, 1948), 346-355; "Portrait" [of Jackie Robin son], Life. XXII (April 21, 1947), 100, and (April 28, 1947), 37; "Rookie," The New Republic. CXVI (May 19, 1947), 9-10; John Brubaker, "Small Beginning," The New Republic. CXVI (June 9, 1947), 38; "Negro on the Farm," Newsweek, XXVI (November 5, 1945), 94-95; "Royal Robinson," Newsweek. XXVIII (August 26, 1946), 71; "Buttoned Lip," Newsweek. XXIX (April 19, 1947), 88; "Baseball: Batting at Robinson," Newsweek. XXIX (May 19, 1947), 88ff; "South Seeks Jackie," Newsweek. XXXI (April 19, 1948), 82; J. T. Winterich, "Play ing Ball: Negroes in Organized Baseball," Saturday Review of Literature. XXVIII (November 24, 1945), 12; Henry Steele Commager, "Play Ball," Scholastic. XLIX (September 30, 1946), 8; "Branch Breaks the Ice," Time. XLVI (November 5, -1945), 77; "Safe at First?" Time. XLIX (April 21, 1947), 55; "Boycott in Brooklyn," Time. LI (May 31, 1948), 51. 24 Robert H. Boyle, Sport— Mirror of American Life, p. 286, calls attention to an article that discusses the novels of Barbour and others. It is Robert Cantwell's "A Sneering Laugh with the Bases Loaded," Sports Illustrated. April 23, 1962, n.p. ^5New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc., Noonday Press, 1961, 52 of preserving the image of purity of our national idols . To his credit, the life of the player is not idealized, but shown to be what it apparently is, a demanding if rewarding occupation. Unfortunately, Malamud's technical knowledge of baseball is faulty, and the scenes he constructs often ring untrue to a reader closely acquainted with baseball and ballplayers. Two novels by Mark Harris, The Southpaw and Bang the Drum Slowly, have more verisimilitude than The Natural and bear the same virtue of depicting some of the agony and contradiction in a ballplayer's life along with the ro- 26 mance. Ralph Andreano, professor of economics at Earlham College and chairman of the Economics Department, wrote No Jov in Mudville to show that professional baseball was los ing its great popularity because its players were having 27 their folk hero image destroyed by over-commercialism. This work will be discussed more thoroughly below, but of particular interest here are the several pages which ^Mark Harris, The Southpaw (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill Co., Inc., 1953); and Bang the Drum Slowly (Garden City, N. Y.: Doubleday & Co „, Inc., 1962). 27No Jov in Mudville: The Dilemma of Maior League Baseball (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman Pub. Co., Inc., 1965). Professor Andreano devotes to the subject of the novel and its relationship to baseball. After citing the early base ball books by Zane Grey (another moralizing writer for youth), Andreano turns to Malamud and Harris and carefully analyzes their contributions to folk hero mythology. Al though Andreano struggles too earnestly to fit the books' themes to his own purpose, he nonetheless offers a compell ing interpretation of their message and impact. He cor rectly states that both authors transcend baseball itself to proffer unsentimental glimpses of American cultural val ues, desperate human needs, and the vulnerability even of 28 our heroes. The two best-selling books by former major league pitcher Jim Brosnan, The Long Season and The Pennant Race (also discussed by Andreano, pp. 21-23), seem to be in a category by themselves. They are personal reminiscences to be sure, but written, not told to a ghostwriter, by a tal ented man who had lived through what he set down on paper. His insight and frankness drew praise from baseball fans and his rhetoric was approved by critics, but unfortunately his fellow players and several team officials were disturbed, 28Ibid. . pp. 18-23. 54 presumably because Brosnan revealed portions of the "back region" to outsiders. Members of the same team (used here in the sense of "group") have obligations to each other which include not revealing team secrets to the audience. When someone who should be kept outside is permitted back stage, this behavior has been labeled by one sociologist "discrepant behavior," and it is suggested that negative 29 sanctions may be leveled against the offender. In Bros nan 's case, sanctions took the form of a release from his contract by the Chicago Cubs for whom he had been pitching, after which no other major league club was willing to hire him. Before leaving the discussion of popular literature, mention should be made of the voluminous collection of mate rial assembled during Congressional hearings on baseball. The Cellar Committee, named for Congressman Emmanuel Cellar, conducted an investigation into the question of monopoly power in organized baseball. The testimony and evidence presented represent perhaps the most comprehensive data ^These terms and their theoretical underpinnings are part of Erving Goffman's interesting book, The Presenta tion of Self in Everyday Life (Garden City, N. Y.: Double day Anchor Books, 1959). Hereinafter cited as Goffman, Presentation of Self. See esp. pp. 106-140 on "Regions and Region Behavior” and pp. 141-166 on "Discrepant Roles." 55 about the machinations of professional baseball ever col- 30 lected. One of the conclusions which the committee reached supported a decision handed down years earlier by the courts which declared that professional baseball, while being a business most assuredly, was at the same time a sport. This made it a very special kind of business, and hence it could correctly be considered exempt from many of the anti-trust laws normally applicable to most businesses. Scholarly Literature on Baseball In contrast to the enormous amount of printed matter that pours from the mass media about baseball, social and behavioral scientists have all but neglected this popular entertainment occupation. It is remarkable that, with one notable exception, every article concerning professional . . 31 baseball which the Social Sciences and Humanities Index considered worthy of listing between the years 1958 and 1955 was published in Economist, a journal which, oddly enough, on . JUU.S., Congress, House of Representatives, Commit tee on the Study of Monopoly Power, Organized Baseball. Hearings. before a subcommittee, 82nd Congress, 1st sess., Part 6 (Washington, D. C.: Government Printing Office, 1951); and Report of Subcommittee (May 27, 1952). 3!This was formerly The International Index— A Guide to Periodical Literature in the Social Sciences and Humani ties. 56 emanates from London, where baseball is not played. The one exception is sociologist Oscar Grusky's article, "Managerial Succession and Organizational Effec- 32 tiveness," and the debate it generated. Grusky, through an analysis of statistical data on the hiring and firing of baseball managers, attempted to show that rates of manager ial succession were negatively correlated with team effec tiveness, In other words, the more often teams changed their managers, the worse their won-lost record became. Grusky's explanation for this phenomenon rested on 2 related hypotheses: first, the obvious one that poor team perform ance will frequently lead to the firing of the manager; and second, that such managerial changes will have related un desirable consequences such as deterioration of interper sonal relationships among team members, which in turn could be responsible for even further decrease in effectiveness. William Gamson and Norman Scotch criticized Grusky's research on several grounds. They objected to his "cavalier dismissal" of the common-sense explanation that simply re placing the manager would improve performance because the ^American Journal of Sociology. LXIX (July, 1963), 21-31; William A. Gamson and Norman A. Scotch, "Scapegoat ing in Baseball," AJS. LXX (July, 1964), 69-72; Grusky, "Reply," AJS, LXX (July, 1964), 72-76. 57 new man could avoid the errors of his predecessor. They presented a refined analysis of data intended to control for the crisis and readjustment periods 2 weeks prior to and after replacement. The data, they insisted, pointed to some improvement in team performance when managers were replaced. They also offered their own theory, that the firing of the field manager is a classic example of ritual scapegoating, designed to reduce anxiety rather than improve performance, although the latter is ardently desired. Quite properly, they pointed out that those involved were strongly motivated to encourage the "myth of managerial responsibility" for the team's failures, so that responsibility for its successes could also be claimed when the time came. Also, replacing a losing manager would give players and administrators an excuse, and fans a rebirth of hope. Grusky replied by replicating the work of his 2 critics and reaching a conclusion different from both his first effort and their follow-up study. He discovered that the status of the successor was a vital predictor of subse quent team effectiveness. If the new manager was an "in side" replacement, that is, if he was already a coach under the deposed manager or had some other position in the or ganization close to the team members, his chances for 58 improving team performance were significantly better than if he had been recruited from "outside." Others, Grusky noted, 33 had predicted this pattern of organizational behavior. Both Grusky's work and the elaboration by Gamson and Scotch have important implications for this present study. The inconclusiveness of their findings, the fact that the data permit several interpretations some of which conflict with one another, and the admission in both cases that cer tain variables (significantly social psychological) may con spire to invalidate the methods used as well as the results obtained, all lead to the inescapable conclusion that base ball as an occupation presents certain difficulties not present in the investigation of other "determinate" type occupational fields. To be sure, Grusky's research merits praise to the extent that it points out that generalizations about effec tiveness of performance which can be made about most organi zations based solely on a structural analysis of data, may well benefit from an interactionist interpretation when the occupation is as specialized as professional baseball and involves so many different role expectations and 3^See, e.g., Alvin W. Gouldner, Patterns of Indus trial Bureaucracy (Glencoe, 111.: Free Press, 1954), p. 72. 59 perceptions. To clarify, most organizations need not be concerned with the mood or morale of a large and emotionally attached audience (i.e., the fans) the way baseball must. In addition, even though an argument might be made that managerial succession affects subordinate employees in any type of organization, it seems readily apparent that few, if any, occupations function under the same intensive daily pressure where decision-making is so publicly visible as do baseball teams. The role of the manager is intimately re lated to individual performances (e.g., a player may be asked to bunt, steal, he may be benched, or a pinch-hitter may be used for him), and in a way which no other occupation can claim. Given, therefore, the emotional atmosphere of this occupational setting, and recognizing the potential conflicts inherent in such continuous and close interaction among participants, the uniqueness of baseball as an occupa tion becomes clear. Grusky, as well as Gamson and Scotch, have said little, if anything, of value about organizational theory in general; they have provided some insight into baseball as a special organization in particular. Two books by economists stand as the only systematic studies done on baseball aside from a few unpublished doc toral dissertations and masters' theses on selected features 60 of the game or its participants. Paul M. Gregory in his book, The Baseball Player: An Economic Study, claims to have pioneered in the first "sustained analysis" of base- 34 ball. Utilizing the tools of economic theory, but at the same time attempting to analyze and interpret baseball as a game and an occupation, Professor Gregory devotes a sub stantial portion of his work to weld[ingl the scattered data of sports reporting into a fairly comprehensive explanation of players' values as artists and as business assets. The facts of the game and the business are employed to illustrate prin ciples of baseball economics. But the baseball player is a whole man, not just an "economic man." His in terests go beyond mere financial gain, for he wants some voice in the shaping of his own future. Conse quently, though it frequently uses the four-letter word "cash," this study transcends economics to in clude the human passions and irrationalities.^ Partially true to his word, Gregory does manage to produce a book that effectively labels the game and its par ticipants according to the language of economics. Commer cial appeal of star players is analyzed, the theory and practice of trading is discussed, and a chapter is devoted to the assessment of the comparative values of different Washington, D. C.: Public Affairs Press, 1956), p. vi. Hereinafter cited as Gregory, The Baseball Player. 35 Ibid.. p. xv. 61 playing positions. Rewards, scarcity of top performers, and the concept of exploitation by both players and management are all professionally scrutinized. There are interesting sections on off-season activities of players (presented in anecdotal fashion, however, rather than categorically), op portunities for players after retirement, and a summary of some of the hazards which accompany the occupation. Of particular interest in the light of recent dramatic moves toward some kind of collective bargaining by players are the last 2 chapters which trace the history of player unions in baseball all the way back to 1885. In most, if not all, of these areas, Gregory competently examines his subject and reports his conclusions. On matters which do not relate to economics directly, however, Gregory is much less efficient. His discussion of psychological factors which affect player performance, for example, is superficial and impressionistic. He attempts to show that teams have "corporate" personalities simply by citing a few examples of team spirit under adverse circum stances. Social psychologists have pondered this question for many decades. Gustave LeBon's early formulation of a group or "collective mind" is perhaps the prototype of such 62 36 conceptualizations. But just as LeBon was unable to sub stantiate his ideas, so Gregory's "corporate" personality, in the absence of empirical data to support the suggestion, remains a theoretical artifact. Another basis for criticism in an otherwise objec tive presentation is Gregory's propensity to "wave the flag," in a general way on behalf of American democracy, and specifically for sportsmanship, competition, and freedom of 37 expression. These are, of course, estimable goals, but advocacy is misplaced in a purportedly objective treatise. It should be said that this book makes interesting reading perhaps mainly because Gregory does not completely fulfill his stated objectives. Much of his argument rests on intriguing examples rather than exhaustive research, a fact which serves to entice the lay reader as well as the professional social scientist, although the latter would no doubt enjoy a systematic research report just as well. Sev eral of Gregory's examples are used later in this study as random verification of inconclusive empirical findings. The other book, by economist Ralph Andreano, has •^The Crowd (London: Unwin, 1896), p. 27. 37Gregory, The Baseball Player, pp. iv-vi. 63 already been mentioned briefly. However, a more elaborate comment is in order. No Joy in Mudvilie in some respects updates the work by Gregory, but in others it is unique. Andreano theorizes that baseball is declining in popularity mainly because it has neglected to preserve the "folk hero" 38 image it had in the past. To quote: . . . baseball— its players, its institutions, and its success— is best explained by the appeal it makes, consciously or indirectly, to the American need for symbolic characters, myths, and legends. . . . Folk heroes abound in many facets of American life and I submit that the professional baseball player has been propped up to be as heroic a figure as Paul Bunyan, Johnny Appleseed, or Davey Crockett. . . . baseball— like Freedom and Independence, like Mother and Home— is a way of life which squeezes into microcosm all that America stands for in the popular imagination.^ Andreano then proceeds to show, in expert fashion, utilizing the language and theory of economics as well as an 3®Pp. 3-14, et passim. Andreano's original premise may be doubtful. Using attendance as a measure of popular ity, the major leagues had 17,500,000 customers in 1950, over 20,000,000 in 1960, and 22,800,000 in 1965, with some fluctuations in between. Of course, increase relative to other sports is important, and this subject is discussed more fully on the pages that follow. Source of data on at tendance: Bureau of the Census, Statistical Abstract of the United States, issued September, 1966, current to September, 1967 (U.S. Department of Commerce, 87th edition); reproduced as The U.S. Book of Facts, Statistics and Information for 1967 (New York: pb Special, 1966), p. 210. •^Andreano, No Joy in Mudville. pp. 4-6. appealing literary style, how the "Folk Hero Factor" can be a potent force in the revitalization of our "National Pas time." Much more at home in the realm of psychological and sociological concepts than Gregory, he adroitly analyzes urbanization, the potential exploitation of urban rivalries, and growing tendencies for homogeneity of values in American culture for their potential effects on baseball as an insti tution. To make this thesis tenable, he first traces the growth of commercialization in baseball, and not just to its eighteenth-century American beginnings but to a wider and more generic source from which much of Western culture is drawn: the sports of the early Egyptians, Greeks and Ro- 40 mans. An interesting and rarely found discussion of Japa nese baseball is included, which, among other things, cata logues the differences in playing rules and procedures be tween the Japanese brand of baseball and that of their 41 American progenitors. Chapter V (pp. 79-100), entitled "Is Major League Baseball a Declining Industry," attempts to prove the af firmative by comparing attendance figures with population 40Ibid■. pp. 39-41. 41Ibid.. pp. 61-76. 65 growth, by showing the relative percentage growth in attend ance of various spectator sports compared with baseball be tween 1950 and 1962 (professional football, horse racing, and bowling all had substantially greater increases than did baseball), and by comparing baseball attendance with the Gross National Product for the same period of time. His conclusions, which appear to be far from convincing, are that baseball cannot count on "growing with the country," that it must encourage the development of factors which affect attendance, and that the greatest potential for such development rests with the "Folk Hero Factor," which should be reshaped to suit modern social, economic, and psychologi- 42 cal condrtxons. In his zeal to accommodate data to his theory, Andreano has frequently overstated his case. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the chapter just discussed. Per haps in purely economic terms, baseball is declining in a relative sense, that is, when compared with the rising popu larity of other sports or with population and Gross National Product increases. But with the increasing exposure of multi-millions of people to the game through the medium of ^Ibid,, p. 98. 66 television, and in light of recent moves toward expansion by both leagues, even if baseball attracts less of Americans' recreation dollars proportionately than it did in the past, it is inconceivable that it should be considered a declining industry. Spirited competition by business interests to purchase major league franchises, and the tangible evidence of newly constructed stadiums in both the American and Na tional Leagues point to the presence of vitality in the in dustry rather than to a decline. In addition, Andreano's whole thesis of a "Folk Hero Factor," while providing interesting reading and allowing for a degree of thought-provoking analysis, may have repre sented a condition that was in the process of changing while 43 the book was being prepared. Now that major league base ball has adopted a new-player draft similar to that used by professional football and basketball, the distribution of talent which Andreano called for seems to have been accom plished. Also, the recent demise of both the New York Yan kees and the Los Angeles Dodgers along with the sudden win ning surges of teams like Minnesota, Baltimore, Detroit and the Boston Red Sox seem to have revitalized public interest ^Andreano actually concedes this possibility in his "Postscript," pp. 183-186, 67 more than any other development, and may have obviated the necessity for other reforms to restore lost luster to the players' hero images. One of Andreano's own sources can be cited as evi dence that a variation in league champions tends to raise fan interest. Professor Walter Oi of the University of Washington studied the factors that most affected baseball attendance, and concluded that the "statistically most sig nificant factor affecting baseball attendance for all teams in both leagues for a 33-year period was the 'closeness of 44 the race.1" Apparently, and not surprisingly, the fans enjoy the thought of watching a team that has a chance of being a champion more than they enjoy watching an also- 45 ran. An article adapted from a chapter in Andreano's book appeared in Trans-action under the title, "The Affluent Baseball Attendance: Correlation Matrix and Cross-Section Correlations" (unpublished paper, University of Washington, n.d.); cited by Andreano, No Joy in Mudville. pp. 93, 100. 4^A recent exception is, of course, the New York Mets, whose followers seem to derive a special satisfaction from the fact that their team is a consistent loser. Given the traditional American value system with its emphasis on success, the Mets' fans defy explanation. 46 Baseball Player." It shows how baseball players have changed over the years from being primarily concerned with the game as an end in itself to a concern with other social values such as a home, security, and a good job after their playing days are over. These views speak directly to one of the hypotheses under investigation in this study; in fact, they suggest a refutation of the idea that occupations with "determinate" status will demonstrate consummatory rather than instrumental values among role incumbents. Other data appear in the article; of special interest are the comments on "Negro" and Latin-American players. The folk hero thesis is once again explored. Another article on "Negroes" in baseball appeared in Trans-action quite recently under the title, "Negroes in Baseball: The Failure of Success." Here, Professor Aaron Rosenblatt used comparative batting averages of major league blacks and whites and found that black players over a 13- year span achieved significantly higher averages than their 47 white colleagues. One interesting finding showed that ^ Trans-action. II (May/June, 1965), 10-13. ^ Trans-action. IV (September, 1967), 51-53. Here inafter cited as Rosenblatt, "Negroes in Baseball." The author of the study saw fit to exclude Latin-American play ers, which probably was a mistake. Not only are Latins 69 "the undistinguished Negro player is less likely to play regularly in the major leagues than the equally undistin- 48 guished white player." Rosenblatt concluded that even though "Negroes" are better off today than they were before Robinson and Rickey, they still find themselves in "follower rather than leadership positions," that is, they become pitchers less frequently than whites, and find little or no 49 opportunity for managerial or front-office jobs. Rosenblatt's research raises some valid questions about the status of blacks in baseball. However, many of his conclusions hardly seem warranted on the basis of the meager evidence he presents. A good many of his contentions are simply stated, with no supportive data at all (e.g., ". . . discriminatory hiring practices are still in effect in the major leagues."). It will be interesting to compare his conclusions with those offered in this study based on interview data. A number of articles by scholars other than soci ologists have appeared from time to time in different treated much the same as black American players, but addi tionally, no less an authority than Ebonv magazine consid ers them "blood brothers" whenever matters of categorization are under discussion. ^ Ibid.. p. 53. ^ Ibid. 70 journals. While these studies are not directly relevant to the task at hand, they do reveal the diverse attraction of baseball to a variety of disciplines and at the same time suggest occupational norms that may help to guide the analy sis of collected data. Roger Kahn, in a widely quoted essay in the American Scholar, has written persuasively about the strange and even "absurd" romance between intellectuals and 50 baseball. In a typical passage, he states: A large percentage of intelligent Americans evaluate the four-hundred men as "awesomely gifted demigods." A large percentage of the muscular four-hundred rate intellectuals several notches below umpires.51 He goes on to tell how players suspect and avoid sports- writers, or any writers for that matter, even Tolstoy. He cites several anecdotes which reinforce his claim that ball players are anti-intellectual (e.g., Mickey Mantle stated that the first book he ever finished reading was his own 52 autobiography). In direct contradiction to Andreano's insistence, mentioned above, that the private lives of play ers ought to be publicized to capitalize on the folk hero image, Kahn claims that the public is disinterested in the Intellectuals and Baseball," American Scholar. XXVI (Winter, 1956-57), 342-349. 51Ibid.. p. 342. 52Ibid., p. 345. 71 players' off-the-field habits and personality. They care only about performance during the game. Kahn offers no research data; however, his essay is skillfully written, and the closing paragraphs present a thoroughly convincing por trait of what he calls the "severe and classic tragedy within major league baseball, which catches and manipulates 53 the life of every athlete inexorably." Here is an exem plary passage, which depicts the elusive dream, the fulfill ment, and the disillusionment of the typical major leaguer's career: Major league baseball is an insecure society: it pays lavish salaries to athletes and then, when the men reach thirty-five or so, it abruptly stops paying them anything. But the tragedy goes consid erably deeper than that. Briefly, it is the tragedy of fulfillment. . . . A major league baseball team is a collection of twenty-five youngish men who have made the major leagues and discovered that in spite of it, life remains distressingly short of ideal. A bad knee still throbs before a rainstorm. Too much beer still makes for an unpleasant fullness. Girls still insist on tiresome preliminaries. And now there is a wife who gets headaches or a baby who has colic. No, despite the autograph hunters, things are a long way from ideal. In retrospect, they may have been better years ago, when the dream was happily simple and vague. Among the twenty-five youngish men of a ball club who individually shared a common dream which now has come to be fulfilled, cynicism and disillusion are common as grass. . . . Pee Wee Reese tries to fight off a momentary depression by saying: 53 Ibid. 72 "Sure I dreamt about baseball when I was a kid, but not the night games. No sir. I did not dream about the lights."54 Also unrelated specifically to this dissertation, but of interest nonetheless are several publications on the 55 language used by ballplayers. In addition, Andreano cited 56 a doctoral dissertation on the subject. Other doctoral dissertations have been done which study baseball from a variety of disciplines and stand- 57 points. Steve M. Hokuf (1951) did "A Vocational Study of the Professional Baseball Player with Certain Sociological Implications." John Peter LaPlace (1952) in psychology pro duced "An Exploratory Study of Personality and Its Relation ship to Success in Professional Baseball," which utilized 54Ibid., p. 346. ^Robert D. Spector, "Baseball, Inside Out and Up side Down," American Speech, XXXI (December, 1956), 305-306; idem, "Compound Words in Baseball," American Speech, XXX (May, 1955), 153; M. J. Meredith, "Twi-night, Twi-nighter," American Speech, XXXI (May, 1956), 140-141; H. S. Heck, "Baseball Terminology," American Speech, V (1930), 279-280; F, P. Huddle, "Baseball Jargon," American Speech, XVIII (1943), 103-111; V. Samuels, "Baseball Slang," American Speech, II (1927), 255-256; and David Schulman, "Baseball's Bright Lexicon," American Speech, XXVI (1951), 29-34. ^Edward j. Nichols, "An Historical Dictionary of Baseball" (Pennsylvania State University, 1939), in Andre ano, No Joy in Mudville, p. 35. ^These dissertations are fully referenced in the Bibliography and only name of author, year of publication, and title are given in the text. the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory to obtain measures of personality traits believed to be important in achieving success in professional baseball. A sample of major and minor league players was tested and compared with the general population as well as with each other. Some of the findings of this study are incorporated with the data obtained for the present work. It is interesting to note in passing, however, LaPlace's conclusion that major leaguers exercise greater self-discipline and appear to get along better with other people than do minor league players. But compared with the general population, major leaguers seem to be worrisome instead of optimistic and self-confident. They do exhibit more ambition, vigor, and aggressiveness than non-players, and more determination than minor leaguers. LaPlace later published an article under substantially the same title as the dissertation in the Research Quarterly of the American Association for Health, Physical Education and Recreation (1954). Another dissertation of note is David Q. Voigt's "Cash and Glory: The Commercialization of Major League Baseball as a Sports Spectacular, 1865-1892." This 1962 study is interesting not only for its historical in sight but because of its relationship to the debate over baseball as a sport or a business. 74 In the area of economic research, Peter Craig (1950) did a master's thesis entitled "Organized Baseball: An Industry Study of a $100 Million Spectator Sport," and Richard Armstrong (1957) and Robert W. Smith (1948) both wrote theses with related themes, the former under the title "The Unionization of Major League Baseball," the latter on 58 "The Business Side of Major League Baseball." Economists seem to be unusually attracted to base- ball, perhaps partly because of its uncertain status in the eyes of the Federal Government. Simon Rottenberg did a 59 study on "The Baseball Player's Labor Market," Walter Neale investigated "The Peculiar Economics of Professional Sports,and an article entitled "Baseball's Glittering 61 Diamonds" appeared in the Economist with no author cited. Psychoanalysts have contributed to the literature, often in ways which might appear to modern behavioral sci entists as unnecessarily Freudian. Adrian Stokes stated ^8These three theses by Craig, Armstrong, and Smith are cited in Andreano, No Joy in Mudville. pp. 189-191. 59Journal of Political Economy. LXIV (June, 1956), 242-258. ^Quarterly Journal of Economics. LXXVIII (February, 1964), 1-14. 61CLXXXV (November 23, 1957), 687ff. 75 that baseball was clearly a manifestation of unconscious sexual concerns in males. He likened bats to the male phallus, and attempted to show how baseball language (e.g., a batter comes iip to the plate) reflected the phallic nature of the batter's role.^ In an address before the American Psychoanalytic Association in 1963, Dr. Thomas A. Petty observed that the father-figure symbolism of a pitcher during a baseball game is enhanced by the 15-inch mound upon which he stands. He developed an elaborate variation on the Oedipus complex by describing baseball as a dramatization of a young man's (the batter's) attempt to usurp the mother (the catcher) from the father (the pitcher) by hitting the father's offering (the ball) as hard and as far as possible (with the bat). Pet ty's remarks and those of other writers of a similar per suasion were amusingly summarized by Warren Boroson in an article appearing in Fact magazine under the title "A Psy- 6 3 choanalytic Study of Baseball." Fact is not especially noted for its scientific objectivity, but the sources Psycho-Analytic Reflections on the Development of Ball Games, with Special Reference to Cricket," Interna tional Journal of Psycho-Analysis. XXXVII (1956), 185-192. 6^Fact, May/June, 1964, pp. 31-35. 76 mentioned in this obviously exaggerated although entertain ing report are quite seriously presented by the several different authors cited. Two additional works, both on the subject of the black man in sports, merit attention. In his article, "De segregation in American Society: The Record of a Generation of Change," J. Milton Yinger referred to organized sports as a source of pride for young "Negroes" who find themselves 64 able to identify with star "Negro" athletes. Of course, the exclusive existence of role models who are either ath letes or entertainers represents distortion and inequality prima facie, especially when the comparison is made with the multiplicity of different role models available for white youths. Yinger made the point that other occupational avenues were beginning to open up for black Americans. The London Institute of Race Relations authorized a study entitled Race and Sport which stands as a rare, if not the only, excursion into this emotion-laden area of con- 65 cern. Although baseball is mentioned only occasionally ^ Sociology and Social Research. XLVII (July, 1963), 443. Hereinafter cited as Yinger, "Desegregation in Ameri can Life." 65Richard Thompson, Race and Sport (London: Oxford University Press, 1964). 77 in an illustrative way, the book is of special interest for the present work because of its discussion of racial minori- ties in sports generally, and for the opportunity it offers to gain an international perspective on the problem. As a documentary focusing especially on South Africa and New Zealand, the book is exceedingly well-done and informative. When it begins to theorize, especially on matters such as sport's contribution to breaking the "colour bar," a bit of naivete is evident (e.g., "Modern sport undermines any sys- 66 tern of social stratification based on colour"). Some of the data already cited and additional data to be presented below cast considerable doubt on this unequivocal statement. Finally, several articles and a book have appeared which treat baseball data statistically, either for purposes of predicting future performance or to provide explanations 6 7 of what has already occurred. Since these all involve rather sophisticated statistical techniques, their value for 66Ibid.. p. 11. ^Donald G. Barker, "The Factor Structure of Major League Baseball Records," Research Quarterly. XXXV (March, 1964), 75-79? F. Mosteller, "The World Series Competition," Journal of the American Statistical Association. XLVII (September, 1942), 355-380; Earnshaw Cook, Percentage Base ball (Baltimore: The Williams and Wilkins Co., Waverly Press, 1964). baseball officials, managers, and coaches would appear to be limited, unless some method of translating results could be devised. Since in practice, baseball officials devote a major portion of their time hazarding educated guesses about what their players might be capable of doing, a more accu rate predictive process would seem to be a potentially re warding thing. Perhaps a liaison between baseball and statisticians, with some intermediary to bridge the communi cation gap, could go far toward weakening the power and in fluence of that most notorious of all baseball fans, the "second guesser." CHAPTER III RESEARCH METHODS AND PROCEDURES Introduct ion Two major problems accompanied this research into the occupational role of the major league baseball player. Despite the fact that the subject has rarely been examined by social scientists, there is a propensity for everyone to think he is an "expert" on it. This made dispassionate or detached discussion of the project, with either social scientists (who are as convinced of their grasp on the "truth" about Mickey Mantle as any fan) or others, an in triguing challenge but a remote possibility. Then also, ballplayers, like other celebrities, are cautious about answering questions which may come close to what they con sider a private, or non-marketable, matter. They have pre cious little privacy anyway, and are resentful of intrusions that promise nothing for them or their career, but are to be used instead to further the ambitions of the person asking 79 80 the questions, Thus there were doubts throughout the early planning that this study could actually be completed. There was doubt about gaining access to the players, and even if this could be accomplished there was little assurance that con ventional research methods would be effective. For example, once in the dressing rooms, would the sociologist be per mitted, or indulged, to interview at great length? Could he leave questionnaires with the players and expect a reason able number of returns? What kind and extent of cooperation from management could be anticipated? Just how far in the area of personal affairs could he go without "coming too close"? These and questions like them were unanswerable primo intuiti. although previous experiences and some stra tegically placed inquiries gave hints of what to expect. Faced with these methodological dilemmas, it became apparent that a flexible research strategy had to be worked out. Otherwise, there was a danger of slavish adherence to technique (which might insure procedural purity) at the cost of discovering anything worth knowing.'*' Some social -*-For a discussion of this point, see Robert Red- field, "The Art of Social Science," American Journal of Sociology. LIV (November, 1948), 187-189. 81 scientists have concerned themselves with refinement of methodology to such an extent that others have begun to criticize what they consider a neglect of focus on the pow ers of imaginative insight which the researcher himself 2 3 4 5 might possess or cultivate. ’ 9 ’ In his perceptive discussion of scientific method in the behavioral sciences, Abraham Kaplan chose a fortunate metaphor when he wrote this passage: . . . I forgo a definition because I believe there is no one thing to be defined. . . . One could as well speak of the "method" for baseball. There are ways of pitching, hitting, and running bases; ways of fielding; managerial strategies for pinch hitters and relief pitchers; ways of signaling, coaching, and maintaining team spirit. All of these, and more besides, enter into playing the game well, and each of them has an indefinite number of variants. We could say, of course, that there is only one way to play: to score runs if you are batting, and to pre vent them if you are not. And this statement would be about as helpful as any general and abstract definition of "scientific method." . . . I think it is hard to improve on P. W. Bridgman's remark that 2Ibid.. pp. 181-190. 3c. Wright Mills, The Sociological Imagination (New York: Oxford University Press, 1959), pp. 3-24, et passim. ^Herbert Blumer, "Society as Symbolic Interaction," in Human Behavior and Social Processes, ed. by Arnold M. Rose (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1962), p. 188. ^Robert A. Nisbet, "Sociology as an Art Form," Pacific Sociological Review. V (1962), 73. 82 "the scientist has no other method than doing his damnedest. The methods used in this research were chosen with due consideration for the many unique characteristics of the population under investigation. Along with the aforemen tioned difficulties associated with studying celebrities was the sophistication of the subjects toward interviews. So accustomed are they to answering sportswriters in language calculated to preserve, if not always enhance, their occu pational image, that doubts concerning the honesty of their replies had to be a factor in framing the kinds of questions to be asked. Continued reassurance of the anonymity of their responses was 1 important technique that could easily be employed. That ballplayers are suspicious of sports writers in particular but all writers in general has been 7 8 well documented in essay and anecdote. Another problem to be overcome was the geographical mobility of the subjects. They were constantly traveling, and when they were in 1 city long enough to be contacted ^The Conduct of Inquiry (San Francisco: Chandler Publishing Co., 1964), p. 27. ^Kahn, "Intellectuals and Baseball," pp. 344-345. ®Garagiola, Baseball Is a Funnv Game, pp. 130-131. 83 they objected to any interference with their all-too-scarce free time. It was obvious that data collection would be a flexible matter, to be accomplished as opportunities pre sented themselves. Preliminary Research Strategy The decision was made to utilize 3 different ap proaches in an attempt to gather information: question naire, interview, and tape-recorded small group discussion. A questionnaire was constructed focusing on a wide variety of variables, from personal leisure time habits to percep- 9 tions of occupational and private self-images. The ques tionnaire was first tested on a sample of college players who were engaged, to use Leonard S. Cottrell's terminology, in "incipient rehearsal in the future role."^ After re vising the questions, deleting some, refining others, and carefully assessing the feasibility of using such a formal instrument in so unstable a research setting, the question naire was tested again, this time on 2 cooperative major league players who volunteered their services. Their re marks and suggestions were invaluable, and contributed ^See Appendix A for Questionnaire. -^"Adjustment of the Individual," p. 619. 84 significantly toward the final revision of the question naire . One of the changes suggested by the pre-tests was the avoidance of the use of any rating technique in which the interviewer himself placed the responses in a proper 11 category or at a point along a continuum. The players became impatient and uncomfortable very quickly, with some members of the college sample simply losing interest and requesting to be excused. The 2 major leaguers also felt that such a technique would be much too slow, and they in sisted that most of their colleagues, upon seeing others in a "captive" situation, would conveniently absent themselves from the area until the interviewer grew tired and departed. It was apparent that, desirable as a face-to-face interview might be, with its opportunities for deeper and more precise probing, it was impractical for all the players. It was decided, therefore, to hand the questionnaire to each player who would accept it, and if a particularly cooperative player indicated a willingness to answer more elaborate l^For a discussion of the different kinds of rating techniques, see Claire Selltiz, Marie Jahoda, Morton Deutsch, and Stuart W. Cook, Research Methods in Social Re lations (rev. ed.; New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962), pp. 345-356. Hereinafter cited as Selltiz, et al., Research Methods. 85 questions, or in greater depth, his good nature would be exploited. A second change indicated by the pretests was re organizing the questions so that certain highly personal, emotional, or strategic items would appear well toward the end, after the respondent had had the opportunity to work through some of the more innocuous questions. One of the 2 pretested major leaguers had cautioned, Be careful about personal questions. Ballplayers are a funny bunch; they feel they are somehow spe cial and should not be asked anything more than their batting averages. They've been stung too often by "confidential" interviews with sports- writers. Good questionnaire construction technique includes, of 13 course, strategic psychological ordering of items. Securing access to a substantial sample of subjects remained the largest single difficulty. It was decided to rely on the writer's personal acquaintances throughout the hierarchical structure of professional baseball to provide the initial contacts from which more elaborate negotiations might later spring. Perhaps' it was unnecessary to take 1 P •^A personal comment to me during the pretest, May, 1965. •^Selltiz, et al., Research Methods, pp. 572-574. 86 advantage of the fact that this researcher happened to have once been a professional ballplayer himself and still main tained lines of communication with ex-colleagues. One might argue that surely no institution would deny access to a social scientist who is simply going about his work and not seeking to "expose" the organization and people he is study ing. Could not any sociologist, therefore, simply have re quested cooperation and received it? The answer to that query came during the actual collection of data. One of the team coaches flatly stated, "It's a good thing you know some of these guys, or else you never would have gotten any of them to fill out your ques tionnaire." Other social scientists probably could have gained access to the dressing rooms; in fact, some occa sionally have, as the research literature points out. But there is some question as to how cooperative the players themselves would have been; indeed, the degree of coopera tion for this project was hardly what might be called en thusiastic, except for a few players. Letters of introduction and explanation were sent to the general managers (not the field managers) of 6 major league teams. Five responded favorably, 3 from the American League and 2 from the National League. The lone dissident, 87 a National League team, was not opposed to the idea of the study, but the general manager (1 of the acquaintances men tioned above), felt that the timing was wrong, since his ball club was making only 1 more trip to the city where the research was being conducted, and was too caught up in the pennant race to divert any attention or energy to extraneous problems. Although from a methodological standpoint it would have been desirable to have secured a sample completely at random from among the population universe of 500 active major leaguers, for several reasons it was impossible. Not only would the cost in terms both of time and money have been prohibitive, but there was every reason to doubt that ball clubs with no personal relationship to this writer would have cooperated. Perhaps most important, the local major league teams whose assistance would be needed whenever visiting clubs were to be interviewed set strictly circum scribed blocks of time during which they would permit in trusion into their dressing rooms and those of visiting 14 teams. They did not want to be bothered with a long, ■^Traveling to each city was out of the question for financial reasons, so 1 city was selected as a home base. It conveniently had 2 major league representatives, 1 in each league. 88 drawn-out process of arranging parking and gate passes, nor did they think it a good thing to have an "outsider" wander ing around indefinitely in the back regions of their spe cialized social world. As a result, all interviewing and data collection of a formal nature had to be completed between July 1 and Sep tember 25, 1965. These dates were agreed upon by both local ball clubs and the researcher. Earlier in the season would have been undesirable anyway, since final team rosters are not fixed until June 15, and a good amount of player mobil ity, i.e., being sent to the minors or traded, is charac teristic and would have made for an unstable sample prior to that date. (As it was, an unavoidable postponement in visiting 1 of the teams extended the research period beyond the date restricting addition of promising minor league rookies to the roster. Thus, data for that team included responses from a few neophyte major leaguers; it had its special advantage, however, in providing information from the perspectives of newcomers not yet fully acculturated into the value and normative systems that veteran major leaguers follow.) The 6 teams originally chosen were spread geograph ically across the United States and divided equally between leagues^ The 5 eventual participants still exhibited sig nificant geographical diversity, but team location, for all practical purposes, is relatively unimportant. The natural process by which major league teams acquire players, or in other words, the role-recruitment process, is entirely open, competitive, and unlimited regionally, and indicates that any single team at any given time will represent a cross- section of major league players. This probability is rein forced by the fact that many players on any particular team will have been bought and sold several times before arriving at their present affiliation. It seems reasonable to as sume, then, that this random recruitment process effectively neutralized the intrusion of systematic biases into the sample selection; it further indicates that any 5 teams would in all probability yield interview or questionnaire responses which would differ little if at all from the 5 teams utilized here. Since each major league team carries 25 players on its roster after cut-down day, a sample of 125 was antici pated if every player responded. However, since 1 of the teams was encountered after the player limit had been lifted, there were 40 players present for that team. So the possible number of respondents was 140. 90 In addition to formalized questionnaire responses and lengthy interviews with especially cooperative players, part of the research strategy was to talk with scouts and public relations men to gain insight into their special per spectives. All coaches and managers who agreed were also included, both formally through a structured series of ques tions and informally in whatever way their replies might be useful. Finally, to supplement these sources of data, a marathon "bull session" was planned with a small group of major leaguers who lived in the same city where the inves tigation was taking place. Their conversation was tape- recorded and used chiefly as an elaboration on the written responses, yielding subtleties that pencil and paper replies could not. Participants in this face-to-face confrontation were selected on the basis of their reputations and the writer's knowledge of them as articulate and frequent spokesmen for their occupation. In addition, they all had at least 1 year of a college education. These criteria by no means insure perspicacity, but they probably do produce a selection of players whose perceptive abilities are su perior to the average player's. The final questionnaire contained mostly open-ended 91 rather than fixed-alternative questions, thus promising a difficult task of coding and categorizing responses. It was decided to assume this extra burden for the important ad vantage, as Bernard Phillips so correctly notes, of having the respondents supply their own definition of the situa- 15 tion. Collection of Data The process of collecting data was divided into several steps. Although these varied slightly from team to X6 team, a typical pattern can be summarized: 1. A parking and gate pass was issued by 1 of the 2 participating host teams, valid for a 3-day period, the length of time each visiting ball club usually stayed in the city before moving on. 2. Once inside the ball park, the team manager was contacted in his dressing room. He had been alerted about the project in advance, and immediately called in the •^Bernard Phillips, Social Research: Strategy and Tactics (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1966), p. 117. Here inafter cited as Phillips, Social Research. ^It should be pointed out that the following pat tern is a typical one, but other means were used to collect data, and the dressing rooms were only 1 of the places where players were contacted; buses and hotel lobbies were used also. 92 "player representative," the man designated by each team to speak for the group at meetings with management and other bargaining sessions. 3. After being briefed on the nature of the re search, the "player representative" called a team meeting, made appropriate introductions, explained that the project had been approved by the management, and requested the play ers to cooperate. 4. It was carefully pointed out to the assembled players that the man conducting the research had once played minor league ball in the Yankee organization and it was also made clear that he was personally acquainted with a number of players in the room at the time. This purposeful strat egy was intended to assist in establishing a liaison with several important members of each team who might later wield some influence over their teammates. 5. The purpose of the study was explained, and assurances were given that all responses would remain anony mous. Questionnaires were then passed out and the players were told that the researcher would return the next night to collect the completed forms. It was important to linger for a time in the dressing room, since there were numerous ques tions, and opportunities for more extensive interviews with 93 interested and cooperative players often presented them selves . Several Latin-American players were unable to read English, so individual attention was given to them; the questions were translated into Spanish and their oral re sponses were re-translated back into English as they were written down. Although the players had been cautioned about dis cussing their replies with their teammates, and it had been carefully explained that there were no right or wrong ans wers but their initial reactions were important, still, many of them mockingly read some questions aloud, queried others about their opinions, and in general reacted to the ques tionnaire with a good deal of uneasiness. It was discovered that the best tactic under the circumstances was half- jokingly to chide collaborators by suggesting their re sponses would not be their own, and couldn't they think for themselves. 6. An early return the next day, during batting practice, proved fruitful. While lounging around the dress ing room, questions could be answered, additional copies of the questionnaire could be circulated (invariably, about a third of the players had lost the questionnaires overnight), 94 and completed ones could be collected. Usually, this second visit was the occasion for some heated discussion with play ers who either had become irate over specific items on the questionnaire, or who wanted to explain their answers in greater detail. At a convenient time when most of the play ers were present, it was announced that the following night would be the last opportunity they would have to participate in the project, and it was hoped that all forms would be completed by then. 7. The third night followed the same pattern as the night before. It was to be expected that some individuals would refuse to cooperate, and those who showed antagonism or expressed their disinclination to complete the question naire were quickly and quietly avoided. Others who had not completed the form, but who indicated a willingness to cooperate if more time were available (the questionnaire took between 30 and 40 minutes to complete) were given stamped, self-addressed envelopes and another copy of the questionnaire. Three mailed responses were eventually re ceived, out of 27 potential respondents who had promised to send them. These steps, then, represent essentially the pro cedure used to assemble the data for this study. A chair 95 had been reserved in the press box, and immediately after each dressing-room session all the relevant details of con versations that had been overheard or had been initiated and encouraged were recorded, while the writer enjoyed comforts provided by the management and usually reserved for gentle men of the press. Most of the information thus set down was anecdotal in nature, but some of it later proved to be valu able because it helped to identify different team moods and provided a glimpse of behavior patterns transmitted in jar gon and unhampered by the restraints imposed by direct ques tions. Analysis and Interpretation The final sample consisted of 73 responses by play ers (out of a possible 140), plus several more from coaches and managers. This total of 73 represented approximately 15 per cent of all major leaguers active at the time. Since the final questionnaire contained a large pro portion of open-ended questions, much of the data yielded were sample values at the nominal scale level, although occasional Likert-type choices were offered and the re- 17 sponses to these formed ordinal scales. ■^Phillips, Social Research, pp. 177-181. 96 With nominal data, powerful statistical tests are not applicable, but the chi-sauare 1-sample test was used where appropriate to determine whether a significant dif ference existed between observed and expected responses. Data that were scalable at the ordinal level for the most part yielded information through simple inspection of raw scores, but the Spearman rank correlation coefficient, a non-parametric measure, was used when the findings warranted 18 xt. At first, questionnaire responses were categorized and coded with the intention of punching the information onto IBM cards for computer analysis of data. However, it became apparent that, along with the special nature of open- ended questions which makes categorization difficult, cer tain nuances in the responses would have been lost with machine tabulation. Since the sample was relatively small, it was decided that hand tallying would be feasible and would have the advantage of offering intimacy with the data, even though a certain amount of ease and speed in the compu tation would be sacrificed. l^Sidney Siegel, Nonparametric Statistics for the Behavioral Sciences (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., Inc., 1956); see esp. pp. 42-45, 202-238. Hereinafter cited as Siegel, Nonparametric Statistics. 97 Items for the questionnaire were selected a priori for their presumed relationship to one or more of the pre- viosly listed hypotheses. Since a substantial question existed as to the degree of access to the subjects which might be available, and since there was no way of knowing in advance what their reactions to such research might be, an attempt was made to minimize formally structured encounters. Thus, no standardized tests or measures were used. The questionnaire was pretested for relevance twice, and was carefully constructed to sound casual and to challenge the players' interest. During the course of arranging the accumulated data for analysis, existing scales, paradigms, and other organi zational schema were utilized. Data on occupational status, of both players and their fathers, were ranked according to 19 the Centers scale for occupational prestige. This scale, which is a variation of the Alba M. Edwards scale developed 20 for the Bureau of the Census, was selected simply because ^Richard Centers, The Psychology of Social Classes (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1949), pp. 48-51 et passim. ^Alba M. Edwards, "A Social Economic Grouping of the Gainful Workers in the United States," Journal of the American Statistical Association, XXVIII (December, 1933), 377-387. 98 its categories appeared to lend themselves most easily to the research topic, and not because it is considered super ior to other well-known and widely used scales. Lasswell, in a careful critique of occupational prestige scales, points out that the Centers scale, like all other "intuitive" occupational scales, fails to define oper ational criteria for the establishment of a unidimensional continuum. In fact, Lasswell doubts that any ordering or scaling of occupations has ever been objectively determined, nor does he see the development of such a metric scale in 21 the near future. With this view in mind, it may be argued that the Centers scale is no better or worse than other scales of its kind, and to trust Centers' intuitive judgment is neither more nor less satisfactory than to trust Edwards' or War- 22 ner1s or others'. It became necessary during the classification of ^Thomas E. Lasswell, Class and Stratum: An Intro duction to Concents and Research (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1965), pp. 422-443; see esp. pp. 426, 433, and 443. Hereinafter cited as Lasswell, Class and Stratum. ^W. Lloyd Warner, Marchia Meeker, and Kenneth Eells, Social Class in America: A Manual of Procedure for the Measurement of Social Status (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1960), pp. 133-136. 99 data into categories, even with Centers' scale, to make certain modifications. Farm owners and managers were placed between professionals and small business owners, even though Centers lists them between white collar workers and skilled 23 manual workers and foremen. This was done partly on in tuitive grounds, but more particularly because a preliminary check on the data showed very few respondents in this cate gory, and those who were quite appropriately deserved to be ranked above small businessmen since they were what might be called middle-class or "gentlemen" farmers. Another modification included combining farm labor ers with unskilled manual workers, and omitting the category of farm tenants. Centers himself combined these first 2 24 categories and considered them equal in scale value, which probably is adequate justification for doing it here. Farm tenants were excluded simply because there were none in the sample. Information linking respondents with specific social classes was gathered by asking them to select which, among 4 designated class categories, they saw themselves and their “ ^Centers, Psychology of Social Classes, p. 51. 24Ibid. 100 families in, both while they were growing up and after they had achieved major league status. It has been amply demon strated that among research sociologists there is little agreement as to how sophisticated the American public is when it comes to putting people into class-linked categor ies. Lasswell, for example, cites several studies from different research literature on social class which express the opinion that people can and do "place" others on the 25 basis of several criteria. On the other hand, S. Stans- feld Sargent points out that a quarter to a third of the respondents in his study of a California town seemed either 26 unfamiliar with or confused by the concept of class. Neal Gross, in a similar investigation in Minneapolis, found that a large proportion of the respondents could not answer the question of their own social class without clarification of 27 the meaning of the term. These examples have been given to explain the reason for using explicitly stated categories when asking the ^ Class and Stratum, pp. 4, 192. ^^"Class and Class Consciousness in a California Town," Social Problems. I (June, 1953), 22-27. 27"Social Class Identification in the Urban Commu nity," American Sociological Review. XVIII (August, 1953), 398-404. 101 ballplayers about their perceptions of social class. With prior knowledge of the research setting so tenuous, it was deemed wise to avoid building in difficult responses to the questionnaire (although these precautions were not always successful). Kurt B. Mayer has observed that "when ques tions are so worded that they request the respondent to choose a specifically designated class, people identify 28 themselves classwise more readily." He goes on to state just a few sentences later that a forced-choice question is "required" to induce most Americans to assign themselves to a class position. A few words of explanation are needed about the 4 social class categories offered as choices. Instead of the conventional "upper, middle, working, and lower" class 29 designations, the ballplayers were aksed to place them selves into 1 of these: "working, middle, upper-middle, upper." Since Centers discovered that only 1 per cent of his sample of 1,097 white males identified themselves as lower class while 51 per cent said they belonged to the ^ Class and Society (New York: Random House, 1955), p. 65. ^See, e.g., Centers,. Psychology of Social Classes, pp. 76-77, for comment and use of the findings of the study on social class done by Fortune, February, 1940, p. 14. 102 30 working class, this seems to indicate an unwillingness for people to stigmatize themselves via an invidious label. In addition, every new Bureau of the Census population report indicates an increasing percentage of Americans climbing . . 31 into middle income and standard-of-livmg categories. Although he admits his thesis defies easy proof, Harold M. Hodges, Jr. predicts that time-worn means of distinguishing middle class from lower class will, it appears, become passe for at least two reasons: (1) "dial-watching" techni cians, products of an automated age, simply cannot be classified as either "skilled" or "clerical"; (2) more consequentially, multitudinous pressures are at work which can only blur and ultimately even elimi nate the more visible life-style and attitudinal differences which have historically demarcated lower *50 class from middle class. These examples are intended to serve as justification for the elimination on the questionnaire of lower class as a choice, and the addition (not, however, the substitution) of upper-middle class. •^Centers, pp. 76-77. 31u. S. Bureau of the Census, "Consumer Income: In come in 1965 of Families and Persons in the United States," Current Population Reports, Series P-60, No. 51, January 12, 1967 (Washington, D. C.: Government Printing Office). •^Social Stratification: Class in America (Cam bridge, Mass.: Schenkman Publishing Co., Inc., 1964), pp. 279-280. Hereinafter cited as Hodges, Social Stratifica- tion. 103 Numerous other variables were similarly examined through the use of existing sociological taxonomies. Data on marital stability, schooling, family organization, and other demographic material were compared, when possible, with scholarly research findings, Bureau of the Census data, and other relevant scientific literature. These comparisons are cited in the body of the text of this report, and will be found scattered throughout the several chapters which present the findings. CHAPTER IV THE PLAYER AT HOME Introduction This chapter, and the 2 that follow, report and interpret the findings of the study as they relate to 3 dif ferent, although overlapping, areas of behavior. In Chapter IV, following a description of the sample, the player as private citizen is discussed; Chapter V turns to an examina tion of the player in his work setting; and Chapter VI pre sents data on the black North Americans and Latin-Americans in the major leagues. Description of the Sample Although the final sample for this research con sisted of 73 subjects, not all of the players responded to every question, nor did they limit themselves to 1 response on some questions. This accounts for the occasional dis parity in the N's reported for some tables. 104 105 The respondents ranged in age from 19 through 37 years, with the mean age at 26.3. This was approximately the mean age for each sub-sample of ethnic or racial groups, with a variance of less than 1 year. The mode was also 26 years, while the greatest cluster came between the ages of 20 and 30, which is to be expected in so active and physi cally demanding an occupation (see Table 1). Table 2 shows that players in the sample were born in 28 different states, with California claiming 7 natives, the largest number. Pennsylvania, Ohio and Missouri were next with 5 each. Six respondents were foreign-born, and all listed either Mexico or a Central or South American country as their birthplace. These figures may be compared with data cited by Ralph Andreano, who reported that in 1965 (the same year of this study) the feeding grounds for major league baseball players conformed closely to the nation's population distribution. In other words, California, New York, Pennsylvania, and Illinois, which are the most popu lous states, and Michigan which ranks seventh, together con tributed one-third of the total of major league ballplayers, and California by itself contributed 90, or 18 per cent.^ ■^■Andreano, "The Affluent Baseball Player," p. 12. 106 TABLE 1 PLAYERS' AGE AND ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category Age White North Americans Latin Americans Black North Americans Totals Per Cent 19-24 20 3 3 26 36 25-29 25 1 3 29 40 30-34 9 2 2 13 19 35-37 3 - 1 4 6 Totals 57 6 9 N=72 101a aOver 100 per cent due to rounding. Range of ages 19-37 years White North Americans 19-37 years Latin Americans 21-33 years Black North Americans 20-35 years Sample mean age 26.3 years Mean age, white North Americans 26.4 years Mean age, Latin Americans 26.0 years Mean age, black North Americans 26.8 years Mode (total sample) 26.0 years 107 TABLE 2 BIRTH PLACE BY STATE State Totals Alabama 3 Arkansas 3 California 7 Illinois 3 Iowa 2 Kentucky 2 Massachusetts 2 Michigan 3 Missouri 5 Nebraska 2 New Jersey 4 New York 4 Ohio 5 Oklahoma 3 Pennsylvania 5 Others 13a Foreign born 6b Totals 0J r- I I aThese 13 each came from a different state. In cluded are: Florida, Georgia, Kansas, Louisiana, Maryland, Mississippi, South Carolina, Texas, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, Wisconsin, and District of Columbia. bAll 6 of the foreign born players were from Latin American countries or protectorates as follows: Cuba (3), Puerto Rico (1), Mexico (1), Panama (1). 108 These comparisons are, of course, inconclusive, but they indicate some affinity between the sample data in this study and the population of major league players as a whole. More significant than place of birth, however, is where the players grew up. It is in these areas that they learned not only how to play baseball but their values, be havior patterns, and regional loyalties as well. Table 3 reveals that 16 players were reared in California, far more than in any other state. Using birth place, Californians make up only 9.7 per cent of the sample, but when area in which they grew up is used as the criterion, 23 per cent are Californians, a substantial proportion. It can be seen in Table 4 that twice as many of the American-born players, 66.2 per cent compared with 33.8 per cent, were reared in cities where professional baseball at the class A level or above was played than in smaller cities without the presence of a team in the higher minors or ma jors. Usually, class A cities were those with populations between 100,000 and 250,000. Today, however, as opposed to the 1940's when many of the players in the sample were grow ing up, league classifications are different as well as city sizes. These findings may be compared with Bureau of the TABLE 3 STATES WHERE PLAYERS GREW UP State Totals California 16 Florida 2 Illinois 2 Massachusetts 2 Michigan 3 Missouri 4 Nebraska 2 New Jersey 5 New York 3 Ohio 6 Oklahoma 2 Pennsylvania 3 Texas 2 Washington 2 Others lla Foreign born and reared 6 Totals S3 I I <i ! - > aThese 11 each grew up in a different state. In cluded are: Alabama, Colorado, Indiana, Kentucky, Louisi ana, Maryland, Mississippi, Montana, South Carolina, Wis consin, and District of Columbia. 110 TABIiE 4 CLASS OP PRO BALL IN CITIES WHERE PLAYERS GREW UP City, Pro Ball Class A or Above City, No Pro Ball Class A or Above3 Total Number: U. S. Players Only 45 22 65 Percentage 66.2 33.8 100 aTowns and rural areas are included in this cate gory. Ill Census data, which report that in 1950, 64 per cent of the United States population was urban, and 36 per cent rural, with urban being defined as "All the population residing in urban-fringe areas and in unincorporated places of 2,500 or 2 more." This definition is substantially more inclusive than the simple measure of 100,000 people used here to di vide the ballplayers into large or small-city dwellers, and tends to indicate that, if the same criterion were applied that the Census Bureau uses, ballplayers would prove to be almost entirely "urban" in their origins. Data on the players' education reveal that only 3 per cent of the sample failed to graduate from high school, and whereas only 17 per cent managed to earn a college de gree, 58 per cent had attended some college, i.e., 1 semes ter or more (see Table 5). Once again, a comparison may be made with figures reported by Andreano which he took from the 1963 Sporting News Baseball Register? roughly 40 per cent of all players listed (N=497) had attended at least 1 semester of junior 3 college, college or university. The data reported above, ? . . . ^U.S. Book of Facts, Statistics & Information for 1967, pp. 15-16. -^Andreano, "The Affluent Baseball Player," p. 10. 112 TABLE 5 EDUCATION OF PLAYERS Education Number Per Centa Less than high school 2 3 High school graduate 28 38 Some college (under 2 years) 16 22 2 years of college 10 14 3 years of college 4 5 College graduate 10 14 Master 1s degree 2 3 No answer 1 1 Totals N=7 3 100 aRounded to nearest tenth. 113 which are 2 years more recent, may indicate an important trend toward increasing college education for major league baseball players. On the other hand, since the sampling procedure was not random, and since a substantial number of players on several of the teams declined to answer ques tions, it is possible that those who did respond over represented college-trained players who might have a ten dency to be more favorably inclined toward a scholarly re search project. It is interesting to note the change in educational attainment between the players and their parents. Of the parents, 35 per cent failed to graduate from high school, only 17 per cent had attended college, and 9.4 per cent had earned a college degree (see Table 6). These figures are not surprising, however, when viewed alongside census data on educational attainment over the past 40 years in this country. For example, in 1920 only 34.6 per cent of the population of 17-year-olds were attending school; in 1930 the figure rose to 47.9 per cent; in 1940 it became 60.9 per cent; in 1950 it was 68.2 per cent; and in 1960, when a large number of the players sampled were just past the age TABLE 6 EDUCATION OF PARENTS OF PLAYERS Education $ Fathers Per Cent Mothers Per Cent Both Per Cent Less than high school 32 45 17 25 49 35 High school graduate 22 31 42 62 64 46 Some college (under 2 years) 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 years of college 6 8 2 3 8 6 3 years of college 1 1 1 1 2 1.4 College graduate 8 11 5 7 13 9.4 Master 1s degree 0 0 0 0 0 0 No answer or don11 know 2 3 1 1 3 2 Totals 71 99a 68 99a 139 99. 8a aLess than 100 per cent due to rounding. 115 4 of 17, there were 75.6 per cent in school. This unmistak able trend toward greater numbers and proportions of Ameri cans completing more years of schooling is reflected in the differences noted between the ballplayers and their parents. A remarkable and unexpected set of statistics is revealed in Table 7. It will be recalled that Hypothesis XIIc made the assumption that, because of the unstable and highly mobile nature of the ballplayer's occupational role, he would experience a relatively greater frequency of di vorce than would others in different occupations or walks of life. This is, of course, a reflection of a popular view, and is explicitly stated by sociologist J. Richard Udry: "Multiple marriages and publicized divorces of celebrities help give the impression that the institution of marriage is 5 crumbling." In addition, the general divorce rate in the United States, although not increasing in recent years, is still the highest among Western nations; in 196 3 there were ^U.S. Bureau of the Census, U.S. Census of Popula tion: 1950. vol. II, part 1, and . . . I960, vol. I, chap. D., "Persons 5 to 20 Years Old— School Enrollment, by Age: 1920 to 1960," (Washington, D. C.: U. S. Government Print ing Office) . ^The Social Context of Marriage (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott Co., 1966), p. 511. 116 TABLE 7 MARITAL STATUS AND NUMBER OF CHILDREN Number of Children3 , Players' Marital Status Married Single Divorced and Remarried Totals 0 15 12 1 28 1 12 0 1 13 2 15 0 1 16 3 9 0 0 9 4 2 0 0 2 5 3 0 0 3 6 1 0 0 1 7 1 0 0 1 Totals 58b 12 3b N=7 3 3Since the bulk of the ballplayers in this study are in the 20 to 30 year age bracket, it is probable that their families are incomplete and likely to grow in size. As an indication of present conditions, however, it is correct to note that the mode is 2 children per married couple,.the mean is 1.6 children per married couple, and the largest family has 7 children. Ninety-five per cent of those players who ever married are still married to the same spouse (N=61). Of the 5 per cent who were divorced, all are remarried. 117 6 258 divorces per 1,000 marriages, or approximately 1 in 4. Contrast these expectancies with the fact that 95 per cent of the players who ever married are still married to the same spouse. Further, the 3 players who had been divorced (5 per cent of the sample) are remarried. There are at least 2 possible explanations for this phenomenon. First, as Udry reports, divorce in the United States occurs most frequently among the unskilled, low income, poorly educated classes, with the higher status groups enjoying 7 progressively more stable marriages. Since ballplayers probably have high status, are unquestionably highly skilled, and earn a substantial amount of money, perhaps the female partner is reluctant to dissolve an otherwise falter ing marriage; she may even be willing to overlook certain indiscretions by her husband, knowing that traveling ath letes are confronted with temptations that are nearly ubiq uitous. This, of course, is pure speculation. A second possible explanation is more compelling mainly because it is objectively verifiable by supporting William J. Goode, "Family Disorganization," in Contemporary Social Problems, ed. by Robert K. Merton and Robert A. Nisbet (2nd ed.; New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1966), p. 498, 7 'Udry, Social Context of Marriage, p. 515. 118 data. In a study done in the state of Iowa, 2 researchers reported that of all first marriages contracted during the years 1953 to 1959, 97 per cent survived the first year, 92 per cent survived the first 4 years, and about 88 per cent 0 survived the first 7 years. Referring once again to Table 1, it is apparent that the youth of the players would point to a rather large number of rather recent marriages, al though no data were collected on the dates of their nuptial beginnings. Although Iowa is not noted for its high divorce rate, the trends indicated there would seem to be charac teristic of national trends. If this is indeed so, then marital stability for ballplayers who are 30 years old or younger is not unusual. It would be interesting, but out side the scope of this work, to compare the ages of other celebrities, i.e., entertainers, when they marry and divorce with those of ballplayers to see if important differences exist, and to attempt to discover the reasons, if any. The fact remains, explanations notwithstanding, that ballplayers1 marriages are exceptionally resistant to Q Lee G. Burchinal and Loren E. Chancellor, "Survival Rates among Types of Religiously Homogamous and Interreli- gious Marriages, Iowa, 1953-1959," Research Bulletin. Iowa Agricultural and Home Economics Experiment Station, Iowa State University (1962), cited in Udry, Social Context of Marriage, p. 515. 119 dissolution while the players are still active in their occupation, and Hypothesis XIIc is emphatically rejected. In passing, it is worth noting that even though the families of ballplayers are not completed and still growing, Table 7 shows that the typical family size (the mode) is 2 children for those marriages having any children at all, while the mean size including families with no children is 1.6 offpsring per family. The largest family in the sample had 7 children. Sociologists like Charles Horton Cooley, George Herbert Mead, and James Mark Baldwin, to name a few founding fathers, and Arnold M. Rose, Herbert Blumer, Anselm Strauss, Erving Goffman, Howard S. Becker, and Everett C. Hughes, to name a few more recent luminaries, all have said at 1 time or another that to understand a man's behavior, his evalua tion of his own talents, status, and social position must be considered. With this dictum in mind, the players were asked a number of questions which called for self-assess ment. Their responses make up an important part of the descriptive profile of the player both in his private and his professional roles. Table 8 reports how the players perceived their families' social class while they were youngsters as well as TABLE 8 PERCEIVED FAMILY SOCIAL CLASS WHILE PLAYER WAS GROWING UP AND PLAYERS' PRESENT PERCEIVED SOCIAL CLASS Social Class No Totals Working Middle Upper middle Upper Answer Family social class as perceived by the player 32 (43.8%) 27 (37%) 11 (15.1%) 1 (1.3%) 2 (2.7%) 73 (99.9%) Player's perception of his own present social class 7 (9.6%) 35 (47.9%) 20 (27.4%) 4 (5.5%) 7 (9.6%) 73 (100%) chi square = 24.42 P = .001 df = 4 aThe chi square test was done on the N's and not on the percentages. r o o 121 their own social class at the time of the study. It is apparent that, even though the players perceived themselves as having advanced above the social class of their parents, they did not see their occupation as being in the highest social class. In fact, nearly half (47.9 per cent) viewed themselves as middle class and another 9.6 per cent claimed working class status. If the 2 center categories of middle and upper-middle class are combined, they account for just over 75 per cent of all responses. As Table 8 shows, the difference between the play ers’ perceptions of their families' social class and their own is highly significant beyond the .001 level, and indi cates the unlikelihood that such a change could have oc curred by chance. Table 9 reveals that exactly half of those respond ing to the questions on perceived social class saw them selves as having moved up either 1 or 2 ranks from that of their family. Another 43.9 per cent perceived themselves in the same social class category as their family had been. Only 6.1 per cent evaluated their present social class to be lower than it was when they were growing up. These findings support Hypothesis III only partially. Horizontal inter- generational mobility is supposed to be characteristic of TABLE 9 DIRECTION OF SELF-PERCEIVED SOCIAL MOBILITY BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category Perceives Self as Having Moved Upward Perceives Self in Same Social Class as Family Was Perceives Self as Having Moved Downward Totals No Answer One Rank Two Ranks One Rank Two Ranks White North American 20 6 25 4 0 55 3 Latin American 2 i 2 0 0 5 1 Black North American 3 i 2 0 0 6 3 Totals 25 8 29 4 0 66 7 N-73 (38%) (12%) (43.9%) (6.1%) (0%) (100%) 123 most people entering most occupations, but the ballplayers saw themselves as moving upward more than horizontally, at least with respect to social class, and occupation is a frequent substitute in stratification literature for opera tionally defining social class mobility. It must be pointed out, however, that Hypothesis III specifically states that, with regard to vertical mobility, occupations with "deter minate" status typically show more upward than downward intergenerational mobility at time of entry into the labor force. There is no way to assess this claim except by in ference, since no data were gathered on the minor leagues, which is where most players enter the labor force. Later data to be reported on the occupations of the fathers of major leaguers lend an added perspective to this question and permit more informed speculation. To determine how closely the players' judgment of social class compares with a commonly used sociological measure of the same phenomenon, Hollingshead's "Two-Factor Index of Social Position" was used to calculate the social 9 class of the players' families. This Index utilizes ^August B. Hollingshead, "Two-Factor Index of Social Position" (Sociology Department, Yale University, 1958). (Mimeographed.) There is some question as to what this In dex does, in fact, measure; is it social class, or merely 124 occupation and education with scale weights of 7 and 4 respectively, along with 7 possible categories that each individual can be fitted into, to arrive at a score (ISP Score) . This score is the product of multiplying the value attached to whichever of the 7 categories one falls into by the weight of 7 in the case of occupation and 4 in the case of education. The profile of scores obtained is then linked with 5 social classes roughly equivalent, as Lasswell has pointed out, to the 5 categories defined by Warner: upper, 10 upper-middle, lower-middle, upper-lower, and lower-lower. It was necessary to modify the categories in Hol lingshead1 s Index to enable comparison with the forced choices the players made. As Table 10 reveals, upper and upper-middle are the same for both evaluations; Hollings- head's lower-middle, however, has been equated with the players' middle class, and Hollingshead1s 2 lower classes have been combined to compare with the working-class cate gory used by the players. Table 11 shows the original dis tribution on the Hollingshead Index prior to modification. It is interesting to note that the direction of relative social position? See, e.g., Hodges, Social Strati fication. p. 100. ^Class and Stratum, p. 86. TABLE 10 PERCEIVED FAMILY SOCIAL CLASS WHILE PLAYER WAS GROWING UP AND FAMILY SOCIAL CLASS USING HOLLINGSHEAD'S TWO-FACTOR INDEX OF SOCIAL POSITION Social Class Upper Upper- middle Middle (Lower-middle)a Working (UL and LL) Totals Perceived family social class 1 11 27 32 71b Family social class using Hollingshead1s two-factor ISP 1 7 16 42 66b aThe categories of "Lower-middle" and "UL and LL" are part of Hollingshead1s ISP, whereas the players were asked to rate their families' social class using the 4 categories which appear outside the parentheses. The differences in the totals may be explained by the fact that the ISP requires information that was not available on all 73 completed questionnaires. Two players did not answer the question on perceived social class of family, which accounts for an N of 71 in row 1. fu (_rt 126 TABLE 11 FAMILY SOCIAL CLASS OF PLAYERS USING HOLLINGSHEAD'S TWO-FACTOR INDEX OF SOCIAL POSITION Social Class No I (Upper) II (UM) III (LM) IV (UL) V (LL) Answer Number of families 1 7 16 27 15 7 N=7 3 127 increase in the frequencies (see Table 10) is toward lower social class for both rankings, with a preponderance of families in the working or lower social classes, especially on the Hollingshead scale. The apparent fact that major league baseball players come from extremely humble begin nings is even more dramatically revealed in Table 12, which is a frequency distribution of the occupations and education of fathers of players categorized according to the Hollings head Two-factor Index. Not 1 doctor's, lawyer's, or pro fessor's son became a major league ballplayer! Nor were any of the players in the sample offspring of physicists, chem ists, or judges I Only 1 engineer's boy made the major leagues, and only 1 high-ranking business executive's boy. A few sons of managers and proprietors of medium-sized busi nesses were included, but the majority of the players had fathers who were skilled, semi-skilled, or unskilled work- 11 ers. Table 13 reports the occupations of the players' fathers both while the players were growing up and after they achieved major league status. A modified Centers *^Alas, all those hours spent by middle and upper- middle class fathers on Little League practice fields wasted'. But then, perhaps these fathers use Little League to develop a competitive spirit in their youngsters. < < < H H H H H H < H H H H O O O O O O O M O I — 1 O l ~0 b J H - 1 ro o o ro o o . { S » U ) c r > h ro o ro ro oi ro o o t - * O H H o 1 - * M O ) —* 1 —1 I —1 I —1 o to o' 1 ro c o ro Category of Fathers 1 Occupation3 Graduate Degree 4-year Degree College, 1 Year or More High School Graduate 10th or 11th Grade Junior High School 7th to 9th Grade Less than 7 Years of School rt 3* f l > H t n M £ 0 f u r+ H- 0 3 No Answer Totals o c n > H 1- 3 £ ro 128 129 TABLE 12— Continued Fathers 1 Education •H o o >i- tn u o o * - { a rH o -P ■ pH c . g ■H O No Ans wer To tals 22 13 13 73 aThe 7 occupational categories are differentiated in this manner: I = Executivesj proprietors of large concerns and major professionals. II = Managers and proprietors of medium-sized businesses and lesser professionals. Ill = Administrative personnel of large concerns, owners of small independent businesses and semi-profes sionals . IV = Owners of little businesses, clerical and sales workers, and technicians. V = Skilled workers. VI = Semi-skilled workers. VII = Unskilled workers. 130 TABLE 13 FATHERS' OCCUPATION WHILE PLAYER WAS GROWING UP AND FATHERS' PRESENT OCCUPATION USING A MODIFIED CENTERS SCALE Centers 1 Fathers' Prior Occupation Fathers' Present Occupation Categories Number Per Cent Working , Per Cent Number . . Still Working Large business 2 2.9 4 8.2 Professionals 8 11.4 5 10.2 Farm owners and managers 3 4.3 2 4.1 Small business 6 8.6 10 20.4 White collar workers 9 12.9 10 20.4 Skilled manual workers 20 28.6 12 24.5 Semi-skilled manual workers 12 17.1 5 10.2 Unskilled manual workersa 10 14.2 1 2.0 Deceased, retired, or no answer (3) (0) (24) (0) Totals, those working 70 100.0 49 100.0 Spearman's Rank Correlation Coefficient (rho) = .38; not significant. aIncludes farm laborers. 131 scale, and Lasswell uses quotes around the term "scale" to emphasize the questionableness of the scalability of occupa- 12 tions, was used to rank the fathers, and the groupings reveal a distinct trend toward improving occupational pres tige if we are willing to assume that occupations are in fact scalable. The percentages of those fathers still work ing now and those working while their sons were still young sters are 22.5 in the upper 3 ranks for the former and 18.6 in the same ranks for the latter. In addition, an appreci able increase in white collar and small business owners is evident. This trend toward improvement in the occupational standing of the players 1 fathers probably reflects the over all rise in the standard of living for most Americans, and may not be a quid pro quo for having a major leaguer in the family. That there was considerable upward occupational mobility can readily be seen in Table 14. The data show that 29.2 per cent of the fathers improved their ranking, while only 6.3 per cent exhibited downward mobility. To further illustrate the degree to which change occurred, a Spearman Rank Correlation Coefficient (rho) was calculated ■^See the discussion in Chapter III, pp. 97-99. 132 TABLE 14 OCCUPATIONAL MOBILITY OF STILL-WORKING FATHERS OF MAJOR LEAGUERS FROM THEIR SONS' CHILDHOOD TO THE PRESENT Movement: (Modified Centers' Scale) Occupational Mobility Upward Downward Horizontal None 0 0 31 1 rank 2 1 0 2 ranks 3 0 0 3 ranks 6 1 0 4 ranks 2 la 0 5 ranks 1 0 0 Totals 14 3 31 N=48 (29.2%) (3.6%) (64.5%) (100%) aThis individual changed his occupation from pro fessional baseball player (major leagues) to skilled manual worker . 133 and it yielded a value of .38, not a significant associa- 13 tion. By inference, this lack of significance indicates that the changes were so great between prior and present occupations that the responses might have occurred by chance, that is, 2 different sample populations might have been represented. The players themselves exhibit a wide variety of off-season occupations. As Table 15 shows, sales captured the largest number of players, with public relations work a close second. Six of the players worked as entertainers. These jobs obviously become available because the recipient is a major league baseball player with a certain amount of fame, and his presence will attract, if not convince, a 14 prospective buyer or client. One of the questions asked the players was whether their name and reputation helped them in their off-season work. The responses were: Yes, 53; No, 6; Not applicable, 14. Most of the non-applicable replies were made by players who attended school during the •^For an explanation of rho and a table of critical values used to test its significance, see Siegel, Nonpara- metric Statistics, pp. 202-213 and 284. •^For a sample of off-season jobs which attract ballplayers, see the anecdotal but engaging discussion by Gregory, The Baseball Player, pp. 129-136. 134 TABLE 15 OFF-SEASON OCCUPATIONS OF MAJOR LEAGUERS Occupational Categories Number of Players Sales 21 Public relations 17 Attend college 10 Play winter ball 10 None 9 Own or manage business 8 Entertainer (TV, radio, club) 6 Youth service work 4 Teacher 3 Laborer 3 Farmer 2 Skilled manual worker 2 Coach 1 Total 96a N=73 aMore than N of 73 because several respondents held multiple jobs. 135 winter months, or were in their first major league season and had no way of knowing what influence their newly ac quired position might wield. The findings in Table 15, as well as the preponder ance of "yes" answers to the question about the benefits of a reputation, both supply partial support toward affirmation of Hypothesis IX. It was proposed that the major leaguer would experience both positive and negative consequences from his role which would affect his private life. In this instance, the consequences are, of course, positive; jobs accrue as a direct result. When the players were asked to explain how their reputations were helpful to them, the most frequent response was, "It opens doors for me." However, several players took pains to point out they wish they had more privacy. They complain of constant intrusion .j.nto their private lives by autograph hunters, well-wishers, and sportswriters. A few even admitted that they flee with their families to farms or mountain retreats for weeks at a time during the off-season to escape harassment. Although these complaints are made by a small minority of players, they represent support for that part of Hypothesis IX which predicts certain negative consequences of the occupational role. 136 All the data presented so far in this chapter con cern basic demographic or descriptive characteristics com monly collected on any sample population. Included was in formation about the players' ages, their birth places and boyhood homes, education both of the players and their par ents, marriage and divorce rates, self-perceptions as well as "objective" measures of social class, occupations of par ents, and off-season jobs of the players. A number of in ferences have already been drawn from the findings, and references will be made to them again, from time to time, as other variables are examined and comparisons are required. The Player as Political Man One of the roles every citizen is called upon to play involves making political decisions. Citizens com plain, demonstrate, vote, and in other ways express their attitudes and values about issues that might directly or indirectly affect them. Ballplayers are, to be sure, no exception, at least with regard to their right to express themselves. One of the things this research attempts to do is to discover if they exercise their political rights, and if so, to what degree. Responses to the question of the proper role of 137 government in such matters as housing, employment, civil rights, and education are reported in Table 16. The largest percentage of players, 38.7, thought the government was doing about what it should; however, 28 per cent said they were not qualified to judge, an unusually high number con sidering the propensity for most Americans to have opinions about most things. It will be seen that these replies have been cross-tabulated by ethnic category. Although the im plications of the different choices made by each ethnic sub sample will be explored in detail in Chapter VI, it is note worthy that of the 15 who thought the government was not doing all it should to combat social problems, 6 were either black Latin American or black North American, a dispropor tionately high number (40 per cent) in light of the fact that these 2 groups of players make up only 20.5 per cent of the total sample. An inspection of Table 17 shows that a majority of the players, 41 of 75 responses made, either were unable or unwilling to give reasons for their expressed opinions on the role of government. In this instance, too, there was an overrepresentation of blacks and Latins. One especially interesting implication that emerges from the distribution of choices in Table 17 is that 6 TABLE 16 PLAYERS' OPINIONS ON THE ROLE OF GOVERNMENT IN SOLVING SOCIAL PROBLEMS, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category Totals Per Opinions White North Americans Latin Americans Black North Americans Cent Government does too much 10 0 0 10 13.3 Government does about right 25 2 2 29 38.7 Government does not do enough 9 2 4 15 20.0 Cannot judge— not qualified 16 2 3 21 28.0 Totals 60 6 9 75a 100.0 aMore than the usual N of 73 because several players gave 2 answers while others gave none. to co 139 TABLE 17 PLAYERS' REASONS FOR VIEWS ON THE ROLE OF GOVERNMENT IN SOLVING SOCIAL PROBLEMS, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category White North Americans Latin Americans Black North Americans Totals Government: Goes too slow 1 1 1 3 Goes too fast 2 0 0 2 Interferes too much; should be done on the local level 6 0 0 6 Is doing best it can 5 0 0 5 Is necessary, but individuals should help themselves too 7 0 0 7 Can never do too much 3 0 0 3 Has so much to do 3 0 0 3 Is not doing enough; too much waste, bureaucracy, misdirection 2 0 3 5 No reason 31 5 5 41 Totals 60 6 9 75a aMore than the usual N of 73 because several players gave 2 answers while others gave none. 140 players felt the government interfered too much and that implementation of corrective programs should be left to the local authorities, and 7 players insisted that, although government aid was necessary, individuals have to help them selves too. Here are 2 related points of view that express, with recognizable consistency, the core concepts of the Protestant Ethic. Some of the ballplayers, at least 13 of them at any rate, appear to cling to the belief that rugged individual ism and self-reliance are consummate virtues that defy change, no matter how compelling the need or how desperate the situation. More evidence is needed (and is forthcoming below) before any generalization can be made about Hypothe sis V, but these data tentatively point to some underlying philosophical tendency which bears watching in the responses to other questions about basic values, and which may indi cate that ballplayers will, in fact, profess, accept, and put into practice the traditional tenets of the Protestant Ethic . As a political man, then, the typical ballplayer seems to be a mixture of opposing ideologies. He does not care to express his opinion too freely; he thinks the gov ernment is doing what it should; but he also believes people 141 should stand on their own 2 feet as much as possible. Does he do anything about his beliefs? Table 18 shows the responses to the question on the players' depth of concern about world problems such as United States relations with Russia, Vietnam, and the Latin- American nations. On a Likert-type scale of 5 choices rang ing from deep concern so that action in the form of letter- writing is taken, to total lack of concern for the reason that worrying does no good, the players exhibited an over whelming tendency to express concern but limit their actions to keeping informed. Only 1 player, a college graduate, indicated that he wrote letters to his congressman to try to influence policy. No one admitted to total lack of con cern, and only 2 players said they were willing to trust the government since there was little they could do anyway. Two criticisms of this item on the questionnaire should be noted: first, the question did not offer a wide enough choice of courses of behavior (there are, obviously, forms of action which might be taken other than writing letters; viz., talking to people, voting a certain way, marching in protest, etc.), and the players were thus forced into choices not necessarily reflecting their real degree of concern; second, even though 75 per cent of the players TABLE 18 PLAYERS' DEGREE OF CONCERN WITH WORLD PROBLEMS, BY EDUCATION Education Degree of Concern Less Than High School High School Less Than 2 Years College 2 Years College 3 Years College College Degree Master 1s Degree j No Answer Totals Per Cent Terribly concerned 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 1 1.4 Concerned, read, keep informed 2 18 13 8 3 8 2 0 54 75.0 Somewhat concerned but don't keep up 0 10 2 2 0 1 0 0 15 20.8 Not very concerned, trust government 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 1 2 2.8 Not concerned, does no good 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.0 Totals 2 28 16 10 3 10 2 1 72 100.0 aFor the complete wording of these categories expressing degree of concern, see Appendix A, Questionnaire. 142 143 claimed concern and agreed with the statement about keeping up on current news by reading newspapers, magazines and articles,, there is no way to determine if this response in dicates strong, mild, or weak interest in international af fairs. The 5-point scale was constructed on the basis of what was thought to be common sense, but there are some manifest faults evident with it that raise questions con cerning its ordinality. If it is simply treated as a nom inal scale, then a cautious generalization may be drawn: ballplayers are not activists politically, but neither do they ignore the major issues of the day. One player, while discussing this question, pointed out that group living lends itself to long and often heated discussions on a wide range of topics. Politics and the world scene are often debated by the players, but their lives are so completely consumed with one overriding pur pose, i.e., the "game," that it becomes their raison d'etre and all else remains secondary, if not unimportant.^ 1 R x^This idea was related in personal conversation during interviews in the summer of 1955. The single-minded ness of baseball players is celebrated in story and song: e.g., the successful Broadway musical Damn Yankees contains 2 numbers that praise allegiance to "the game" as an ulti mate virtue; curfews and the fines levied for their viola tion make sports copy regularly and exemplify the strict normative controls that attempt to insure that the players 144 To pursue this topic further, the players were asked several questions designed to assess their political pref erence as well as voting behavior. Table 19 shows that, excluding the 6 Latin-American players who were not citi zens and hence could not vote, 28 of 67 (or 41.8 per cent) identified with the Democratic Party while only 8 (11.9 per cent) said they were Republicans. An additional 11.9 per cent felt "closer" to the Democrats and an equal percentage felt "closer" to the Republicans. If the two categories of "closeness" and "affiliation" are combined, there are 53.7 per cent who may be considered Democrats and 23.8 per cent who may be considered Republicans. This extreme imbalance in political preference may be explained on the basis of 2 phenomena well known to social scientists for some time. The first is that politi cal parties are linked with social class. Here is what 1 ranking political sociologist has to say on the matter: On a world scale, the principal generalization which can be made is that parties are primarily based on either the lower classes or the middle and upper classes. This generalization even holds true for the American parties. . . . The Democrats from the beginning of their history have drawn more support from the lower strata of the society, while the . . . recognize their first obligation. The idea of asceticism is clearly recognizable here. TABLE 19 POLITICAL AFFILIATION AND VOTING BEHAVIOR, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY AND TYPE OF ELECTION Ethnic Category White North American Black North American Totals Political Party Affiliation 1964 Voted for • • Did 1964 Voted for • * Did Not Vote and Per Cent Pres. Only Plus Sen. Plus Mayor Not Vote Pres. Only Plus Sen. Plus Mayor Republican 2 1 2 3 0 0 0 0 8 (11.9) Democratic 4 3 5 10 0 0 2 4 28 (41.8) Closer to Republican 1 1 0 ’ 6 0 0 0 0 8 (11.9) Closer to Democratic 0 0 1 5 0 0 1 1 8 (11.9) Neither, do not know, or no answer 0 2 2 10 0 0 0 1 15 (22.5) Totals 7 7 10 34a 0 0 3 6a 67 (100%) aSeven whites and 1 black were not of voting age, but are included in these totals. Not included are 6 Latins who could not vote because they are not United States citizens. 145 146 Republican[s ] have held the loyalties of the more privileged groups.^ He goes on to point out that class cleavages in voting be havior have persisted despite our society's ideology of classlessness, and polls have shown that in every American election since 1936 (no studies were made before then), 1 1 . . . the proportion voting Democratic increases sharply as 17 one moves down the occupational or income ladder." The second phenomenon is that young voters, especi ally first-time voters, exhibit "hereditary" patterns, that 18 is, they vote as their fathers do. Now, this sample of ballplayers is young, and many of them are first-time voters (some, in fact, have not yet voted since they are under age); as Tables 8, 10, and 12 reveal, their fathers are for the most part skilled, semi-skilled and unskilled workers, and probably favor the Democratic Party. It is not surpris ing, then, that a predominance of major league baseball players, despite their own present state of fame and afflu ence, affiliate with the political party that traditionally has been identified with the working man. It would be ■^Seymour Martin Lipset, Political Man: The Social Base of Politics (New York: Anchor Books, 1963), p. 230. Hereinafter cited as Lipset, Political Man. •^Ibid. . p. 303. ~^Ibid. . p. 222. 147 interesting as a future research project to attempt to dis cover if these same ballplayers change their political party once they retire from the game and enter the more or less conventional world of business. It is this writer's hunch that they would, since historically, the haves seek the status quo while the have-nots support change that is in 19 their self-interest. Political affiliation is 1 variable in a profile of a political man, while actual voting behavior is another. Table 19 also reports the frequency with which this sample of majpr leaguers voted, divided by local, state, and na tional levels. The findings are cross-tabulated by politi cal party and controlled for differences in ethnic cate gories. This latter variable is discussed below (see Chap ter VI on minorities in baseball). It may be seen (Table 20) that 27 of the players (8 players were too young to vote in the last election) out ^This is obviously an oversimplified contention. For example, note this qualifying statement: "The poorer strata everywhere are more liberal or leftist on economic issues; they favor more welfare state measures, higher wages, graduated income taxes, support of trade unions, and so forth. But when liberalism is defined in non-economic terms— as support of civil liberties, internationalism, etc. — the correlation is reversed. The more well-to-do are more liberal, the poorer are more intolerant." Lipset, Political Man, p. 92. 148 TABLE 20 PLAYERS’ 1964 VOTING BEHAVIOR BY ETHNIC CATEGORY AND POLITICAL AFFILIATION (TOTALS) Political Party Ethnic Category Totals Affiliation White North American Voted Black North American Voted Republican 5 0 5 Democrat 12 2 14 Closer to Republican 2 0 , 2 Closer to Democrat 1 1 2 Neither, do not know, or no answer 4 0 4 Totals voting 24 3 27 (45.8%) Eligible voters 51 8 59 (100%) 149 of a total of 59 eligible voters claimed to have voted, slightly under half (45.8 per cent). Thirteen said they voted in all 3 elections, that is, on the local, state, and national levels, 7 cast ballots for national senator and for president, while 7 more voted just for president but not for senator or mayor (see Table 21). As one might expect, exer cising the franchise tends to be confined, for a large pro portion of the public, to presidential elections; ballplay ers are no exception. But the fact that only 45.8 per cent of the players voted in the 1964 elections, compared with a national vote that in the past has averaged approximately 20 60 per cent, deserves further comment. There are several possible explanations, some sug gested by the players themselves. It will be recalled (Table 15) that 10 of the players listed their off-season occupation as "winter ball," which would mean that they would be out of the country on election day. Even if some of these 10 were also the underaged players, a portion un doubtedly would be eligible to vote. Chances of their Of) V . O. Key, Jr., Politics r Parties,, and Pressure Groups (4th ed.; New York: Crowell, 1958), p. 625. See also Lipset, Political Man. p. 185. These national figures include women voters, who tend to vote less frequently than men, a fact which further emphasizes the difference between ballplayers and others. TABLE 21 LOCAL, STATE AND NATIONAL 1964 VOTING BEHAVIOR, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Voted for: Ethnic Category Totals White North American Black North American President only 7 0 7 President and state senator 7 0 7 President, senator, and mayor 10 3 13 Totals 24 3 27 151 utilizing an absentee ballot would seem to be slim, consid ering the rapid pace of their lives and their intense geo graphical mobility while preparing to adjust to new situa tions, not to mention new cultures in the Latin-American countries. A second explanation lies in the fact that the major leaguer is faced with the possibility of several occupation- linked changes of the city he calls home. Trades, shifts of franchises, or simply a good opportunity to make some quick money during the winter all make residential stability, if not impossible, at least most difficult. This extreme mobility, then, prevents the player from becoming acquainted with, not to say attached to, a community so that local and even statewide political issues loom as relatively unim portant in his life. Finally, as one player suggested, even the task of registering to vote becomes burdensome when he knows he may not be around to exercise his franchise either in the pri maries or in the general elections. Those players who have stable winter homes in places where they have lived for many years probably make up the bulk of the 45.8 per cent who voted in 1964. Table 22 lists the reasons given by the players for 152 TABLE 22 REASONS FOR NOT VOTING IN ALL OR SOME ELECTIONS, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Reasons for Not Voting Ethnic Category Totals White North American Black North American Too young 7 1 8 Not registered 3 1 4 Away from home, no absentee ballot 12 0 12 No reason 17 4 21 Other 5 0 5 Totals 44 6 50a aThis total reflects explanations by a number of respondents who actually voted for president, but volun teered reasons for not voting for other offices. 153 not voting in all, or some, elections. It will be noted that being away from home was the most frequent explanation given. So the major leaguer as political man would appear to play the role of bystander. His occupation consumes so much of his time and saps so much of his emotional energy that perhaps he is unable to become an involved and active political participant. This is not to say that after his playing days are over he will not reverse himself. In re cent years, several retired ballplayers have run for politi- 21 cal offices, and 1 or 2 have won. But during his active playing career at least, the ballplayer votes less often than the general public, is more likely to vote Democratic than Republican when he does vote, and tends to be content with observing what the government is doing to cope with national and international problems rather than do anything himself to influence that process. P 1 ^Examples include Bobby Thomson, who hit the his toric home run for the New York Giants that defeated the Brooklyn Dodgers in the 1951 National League playoff: elected to a council seat in Somerset County, N. J., Novem ber, 1967, as a Republican; ex-major league pitcher Bob Friend: elected controller for Allegheny County (Pitts burgh), November, 1967, as a Republican? and Leroy (Satchel) Paige: filed for the Democratic nomination for state repre sentative in Jefferson City, Missouri in May, 1968. 154 These generalizations support Hypothesis Xlla, which predicted the major leaguer would be relatively uncommitted and uninvolved politically. The Plaver as Moral Man Every citizen must not only decide about his role in politics and public affairs but he must, in his everyday associations with others, behave with respect to some stand ard or code of ethics. Since others are denied access to the inner life of a man, the only ways to assess that man's convictions are by asking him, by asking others who think they know him, or by observing his behavior. Table 23 presents the responses to a question which asked the players if they had a religious preference, and a second question which asked how often they attended reli- 22 gious services during the past year. Twenty-erght, or 22it should be made clear that there is no intent to equate religious affiliation or church attendance with eth ical or moral behavior; rather, it is merely pointed out that, in a profile of a man's morality, church and religion represent 1 variable that merits careful scrutiny. In fact, 1 investigator reported that research has shown that "the devout tended to be slightlv less humanitarian and had more punitive attitudes toward criminals, delinquents, prosti tutes, homosexuals and those who might seem in need of psy chological counseling or psychiatric treatment." Milton Rokeach, "Paradoxes of Religious Belief," Trans-action. January/February, 1965, p. 9. I TABLE 23 RELIGIOUS PREFERENCE AND ATTENDANCE AT RELIGIOUS SERVICES DURING THE PAST YEAR Frequency of Attendance Religious Preference Once a Week or More 2-3 Times a Month Once a Month A Few Times a Year Never No Answer Totals Catholic 10 4 0 11 3 0 28 Protestant: Methodist 0 2 1 1 2 0 6 Lutheran 2 2 1 1 0 1 7 Baptist 2 1 1 4 0 1 9 Presbyterian 0 0 1 3 0 0 4 Other sectsa 0 3 1 2 0 0 6 Denomination not specified 1 1 1 3 0 1 7 ( J i U l TABLE 23— Continued Religious Preference Frequency of Attendance No Answer Totals Once a Week or More 2-3 Times a Month Once a Month A Few Times a Year Never Agnostic 0 0 0 0 1 0 1 None 0 0 1 1 3 0 5 Totals 15 13 7 26 9 3 73 Percentage 20 18 10 36 12 4 100 aIncluded are: Episcopalian (3), Christian Scientist (1), First Christian (1), and Disciples of Christ (1). Summary: Total Protestants „ , , , . „ , . „ „ - ■ n ^ Catholics Agnostic None Total and Other Sects 39 28 1 5 73 (53.4%) (38.4%) (1.4%) (6 .8%) (100%) 157 38.4 per cent, of the players were Catholic, 39, or 53.4 per cent, were Protestant (including related sects), and 1 lonely player claimed to he an agnostic. These distributions may be compared with Bureau of the Census data for 1957 which reported that for persons 14 years old and over, 66.2 per cent were Protestants, 25.7 per cent were Roman Catholics, 3.2 per cent were Jews, and 3.6 23 per cent either claimed no religion or did not respond. The fact that there were proportionately more Catholics than Protestants in this sample of baseball players compared with the general population of Americans over the age of 14 may be explained in terms of the overrepresentation of players from the working class. It has been pointed out consist ently that there is a greater concentration of Catholics 24 than Protestants in working class occupations. In ^U.S. Bureau of the Census, Current Population Re ports . Series P-20, No. 79 (February, 1958). ^See, e.g., Herbert Schneider, Religion in 20th Century America (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1952), p. 228? Bernard Lazerwitz, "A Comparison of Major United States Religious Groups," Journal of the Ameri can Statistical Association. LVI (September, 1961), 568-579; and this statement in a current introductory sociology text: "The socio-economic profiles . . . reflect the greater con centration of Catholics [than Protestants] in working-class occupations." Broom and Selznick, Sociology, p. 420. 158 addition, variables such as closeness to kin group and job- related housing needs tend to link Catholics to the city 25 more than Protestants; since ballplayers are predominantly urban rather than suburban or rural in their origins (as earlier data in Tables 2 and 3 show), it is understandable that proportionately more Catholics appear in the major leagues. Only 20 per cent of the players said they attended religious services once a week or more. Of this number, two-thirds were Catholic. However, by manipulating the figures in Table 23, it can be shown that the 10 Catholics who claimed weekly church attendance constitute only 36 per cent of the total number of Catholics in the sample. In the same manner, it can also be shown that the 5 Protestants who claimed weekly church attendance constitute only 13 per cent of the total number of Protestants in the sample. Compare these findings with those offered by Gerhard Lenski which reveal significantly greater percentages for both Catholics and Protestants, at least for the city of Detroit. Lenski found that between 74 and 82 per cent of the Catholics in ^Gerhard Lenski, The Religious Factor (Garden City, New York: Anchor Books, 1961), pp. 214-218; John Finley Scott and Lois Heyman Scott, "They Are Not So Much Anti- Negro as Pro-Middle Class," New York Times Magazine. March 24, 1968, p. 117. 159 his survey, and between 23 and 38 per cent of the Protes- 26 tants claimed to attend church once a week or more. Here is a dramatic difference in religious participation between ballplayers and Detroiters. Lenski reports that other in vestigators have discovered similar percentages for other 27 parts of the nation. Of course, the argument can be made that ballplayers are often on the road on a Sunday during the baseball season and find it difficult to arrange their schedule to permit regular church attendance. Also, Saturday night games and Sunday afternoon games leave little time for precious sleep. So even though ballplayers tend not to be church goers with anywhere near the frequency that people in general attend services, it should not be considered surprising in light of the obstacles they face. In anticipation of the findings just presented, another question was introduced for the purpose of ascer taining the importance of religion in the lives of the play ers. Table 24 shows their responses. Of the 9 players (12 per cent of the sample) who said religion was the most ^Lenski, The Religious Factor, p. 49. ^7Ibid.. p. 48n. 160 TABLE 24 IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION IN PLAYERS' LIVES, BY RELIGIOUS PREFERENCE Religious Preference a « •» •p 0 c 0 •rH cd g < D U> -P < -p -p ft g c •H c ft o id p i cd -P 0 ft -p -p -p c ft £ “H g >i g Cd C i-( id 0 a o -p -p •rH ft ft ft g >i c 0 > « e ip £ o g cd -P CD N g H 0 H ft 0 -p g ft •H c w £ > g cd -h C > cd ft -P ■p H o f t pi id 0 0 p g -p ft Cr> -P 'O -P O Cd C D g 0 £ O >1 g o o 0 S f t > 0 f t H ft a o a O E h Catholic Protestant: Methodist Lutheran Baptist (l)a Presbyterian Other sects No denomination specified Agnostic None Totals Percentage (1)a 1 1 2 0 0 1 0 0 12 2 3 4 0 3 2 0 0 2 1 1 0 3 3 0 4 1 1 0 0 0 0 1 1 0 1 1 4 0 1 0 0 9 12 26 36 21 29 5 7 11 15 28 6 7 9 4 6 7 1 5 73 100 aOne player, a Baptist, declined to state the im portance of religion in his life. 161 important part of their lives, 4 were Catholics. The largest group of players, 26 (36 per cent), claimed that religion was very important or important and 12 of these were Catholics. This disproportionately high representation by Catholics in categories indicating strong religious ties is probably a reflection of the traditionally strong hold which the Catholic Church has exercised over its members. Twenty-nine per cent of the players maintained that religion was not very important, or had very little part in their lives. Surprisingly, a third of these respondents were Catholics. Another 7 per cent reported that religion played no part in their lives. If these last 2 categories are combined, they total 36 per cent of the sample, or the same number who claimed strong religious influences. Fur ther, if the category which considered organized religion to be of little importance while insisting that faith in God was. is combined with the 2 categories expressing little interest in religion, they constitute a majority (51 per cent) of the players, albeit a bare majority. Probably little significance can be drawn from these data, although linking the large numbers of players who testify that religion is of relatively little importance in their lives with the fact that only 20 per cent attend 162 church weekly would lend some support to the conclusion that baseball players are perhaps a more secular lot than people in the general population. If this generalization is indeed valid, whether be cause of the constant mobility which the occupation demands or for other reasons not immediately obvious, it becomes clear that Lenski‘s central finding with respect to the importance of religion to the people of America merits close analysis in terms of the religion Of ballplayers. He noted: . . . from our evidence it is clear that religion in various ways is constantly influencing the daily lives of the masses of men and women in the modern American metropolis. More than that: through its impact on individuals, religion makes an impact on all the other institutional systems of the community these individuals staff. Even if ballplayers themselves evidence some lack of involvement in religious orthodoxy, the last part of Len- ski's conclusion would seem to apply with unerring accuracy to the institution of baseball itself, and therefore perhaps through association to the men who "staff" it. Baseball folklore is filled with anecdotes about the efficacy of prayer. Retiring stars can be counted on to evoke God's name, strongly hinting at the influence His presence had on ^ Ibid.. p. 320. 163 any success which may have been obtained. Most baseball banquets are preceded by an invocation from a man of the cloth. It cannot be said that the typical major leaguer is a religious man; but it likewise cannot be said that his life is free from substantial religious influence. Three of every 4 players feel that religion or faith in God are vital in their system of values. This says little, of course, about the moral standards of players, although religious dogma would insist that he who is under the influence of God or the church (God's servant) is more likely to lead a moral life than he who has "lost the way." To explore further into the behavior of ballplayers which might bear on their standards of morality, questions concerning their attitudes toward gambling and drinking were presented to them. Table 25 shows their responses to a re quest to decide if gambling, from a moral standpoint, is wrong or not wrong. A 4-point Likert-type scale was used, ranging from "always" to "never." To check on the degree to which attitude and act coincided, the frequency of play ing cards for money was cross-tabulated with the players' views on the morality of gambling. It should be pointed out that 11 per cent of the players felt gambling, from the TABLE 25 ATTITUDE TOWARD GAMBLING AND FREQUENCY OF PLAYING CARDS FOR MONEY DURING THE SEASON AND OFF-SEASON Frequency of Playing Gambling, from the Moral Standpoint, Is: Per Cent Always Wrong Usually Wrong Sometimes Wrong Never Do Wrong or Not Care No Answer Totals Seasgn Never 8 3 18 5 1 35 50 Seldom 0 2 8 0 1 11 16 Occasionally (a few times) 0 2 1 1 0 4 6 Road trips only 0 0 4 1 0 5 7 Sometimes (1-3 times a month) 0 0 5 1 0 6 9 Often (once a week or more) 0 o 9 0 0 9 13 o\ TABLE 25— Continued Frequency of Playing Gambling, from the Moral Standpoint, Is: Totals Per Always Wrong Usually Wrong Sometimes Wrong Never Wrong Do Not Care or No Answer Cent Off-Season Never 8 7 25 6 2 48 69 Seldom 0 0 7 0 0 7 10 Occasionally (a few times) 0 0 7 1 0 8 11 Sometimes (1-3 times a month) 0 0 3 1 0 4 6 Often (once a week or more) 0 0 3 0 0 3 4 Totals 8 7 45 8 2 70 100a Percentage 11 10 64 11 3 99a Rounded. Ul 166 moral standpoint, was always wrong, while an additional 10 29 per cent considered it usually wrong. Consistent with their expressed beliefs, those who looked upon gambling as always wrong also insisted they never played cards for money. In this case at least, they appear to practice what they profess. An overwhelming majority of the players, 64 per cent, stated that gambling was sometimes wrong, and more than half of these respondents claimed never to play cards for money during the season. It is worth noting that the players indulge in card games for money much more frequently during the season than during the off-season. Most of the card-playing takes place on airplanes, trains, and buses. Some players stated privately that it helps take their minds off the airplane flights, which are a cause of considerable concern for many players. The data in Table 25 clearly reveal that playing cards for money is not universal but is nonetheless a rather popular pastime for many major leaguers. Sixty-nine per cent never play during the off-season and another 10 per ^^The questions used to assess player attitudes toward gambling and drinking were taken from the schedule utilized by Lenski in his study of Detroit. See ibid.. pp. 389-390. 167 cent seldom play. During the season, 50 per cent never play, and 16 per cent seldom play. By contrast, a compara tively small percentage, 13 per cent, play often during the season, while only 4 per cent are frequent gamblers during the winter months. "Often" in this case represents once a week or more. As for the moral stance of these ballplayers, 11 per cent considered gambling always wrong, but 11 per cent also stated it was never wrong. Although again, it is prudent to insist that no clear-cut conclusions can be drawn from these data, nevertheless, it seems evident that major league baseball players are neither puritanically opposed to gamb ling nor totally permissive of it. By the same token, half of them play cards for money during the baseball season, but very few play often, again an indication of less than ex treme commitment either way. A number of players reported in private conversation that they considered gambling to be sometimes morally wrong, e.g., when the gambler cannot af ford his losses and the security of his family might be put in jeopardy (a point of view in no way unusual, nor, one would think, peculiar to ballplayers). Table 26, which shows the same moral view toward gambling but this time cross-tabulated with frequency of TABLE 26 ATTITUDE TOWARD GAMBLING AND FREQUENCY OF ATTENDING THE HORSE AND DOG RACES DURING THE SEASON AND OFF-SEASON Frequency of Gambling, from the Moral Standpoint, Is: Totals Per Attendance Always Wrong Usually Wrong Sometimes Wrong Never Wrong Do Not Care or No Answer Cent Season Never 7 5 18 6 2 38 53 Seldom 1 1 7 0 0 9 13 Occasionally (a few times) 0 0 7 1 1 9 13 Spring training only 0 1 5 1 0 7 10 Sometimes (1-3 times a month) 0 0 5 0 0 5 7 Often (once a week or more) 0 0 3 1 0 4 5 cn 00 TABLE 26 — Continued Frequency of Attendance Gambling, from the Moral Standpoint, Is: Per Cent Always Wrong Usually Wrong Sometimes Wrong Never Do Wrong or Not Care No Answer Totals Off-Season Never 7 7 31 7 1 53 74 Seldom 0 0 5 0 1 6 8 Occasionally (a few times) 0 0 3 1 1 5 7 Sometimes (1-3 times a month) 0 0 4 0 0 4 5 Often (once a week or more) la 0 2 1 0 4 5 Totals 8 7 45 9 3 72 100b Percentage 11 10 63 13 4 100b aThis player lives in Panama during the off-season and says "Everybody goes, for fun." ■h 1 - 1 ^Rounded. c r \ 170 attending horse or dog races, is similar in a number of ways to Table 25. It reveals a majority of ballplayers are not great racing fans, with 74 per cent of them never attending races during the off-season and 53 per cent staying away from the tracks in spring and summer. However, it also shows that 48 per cent attend at some time during a season, even if it is only to visit the dog tracks in Florida during spring training. Once again, most of those who consider gambling always wrong fit word to deed by claiming never to attend the races. It is extremely difficult to determine what per centage of the American public attend horse or dog races. In 1965 nearly 63,000,000 people attended horse races and 30 nearly 11,000,000 went to the dog tracks. A good propor tion of these must be considered devotees, or regulars. Results of the annual Harris Survey of sports, pub lished in the Los Angeles Times, reveal that in 1967 only 16 per cent of the sampled sports public said they followed horse racing (compared with 54 per cent who followed base ball). In addition, the Survey estimated that 12,000,000 people were included in this 16 per cent, yet latest figures 30 The U. S. Book of Facts. Statistics & Informatxon for 1967. p. 210. 171 show 68,000,000 went through the turnstiles at race tracks. The purvey jopncludes that the same turf fans keep coming back, which accounts for the disparity between interest and attendance figures. Further data report that an estimated 6 per cent of all sports fans, or about 4,000,000 people, actually bet on the horses in 1967. Since 68,000,000 went to races, and approximately 2,000,000 more admitted to placing bets with bookies as well as through a pari-mutuel window, the only explanation for the difference between bet tors and attendees is, again, the probability that the same people return to the track again and again. The Harris Survey estimates that the average horse racing fan goes to 31 the track 17 times a year. Since 48 per cent of the players indicate they at tend the races, some regularly and others seldom but they go nonetheless, it seems reasonable to conclude that they exceed the rate of attendance by the general public by a substantial amount. It is highly improbable, especially in view of the Harris Survey data, that anywhere near 48 per ■^Louis Harris, "Annual Sports Survey: Baseball, Football 1-2 in Fans," Los Angeles Times. May 5, 1968, sec. D, p. 10. The Survey concludes, ". . .no more than one million horse racing fans account for at least half of the attendance at the track in a year." 172 cent of the male population of America ever attend races in their lifetimes, let alone in the course of a single year. Baseball players, then, are divided on their views toward gambling as well as in their gambling behavior. Half the players play cards for money, some frequently and some rarely, and half the players participate in the sport of kings, again some with regularity and others seldom. All the while they are doing these things, a large majority of them profess the attitude that gambling is sometimes morally wrong; when they are the ones participating is obviously not 32 1 of those times. The players' moral attitudes toward moderate and heavy drinking are shown in Table 27, cross-tabulated with their personal comments about drinking. Some of these per sonal comments, in response to an open-ended question which asked for the players' general attitudes toward drinking as far as they, themselves, were concerned, reflect actual drinking habits while others refer to value orientations. No unidimensionality should be inferred from the responses, 32 Rather than showing, incidentally, that ballplay ers are hypocritical, these inconsistencies indicate they are genuinely "human," and, like most men, tend never to attribute the abstract evils that all men despise, to their particular modes of behavior. They assume their deeds to be excusable because motivated by good intentions. TABLE 27 ATTITUDES TOWARD MODERATE AND HEAVY DRINKING FROM A MORAL STANDPOINT, BY PERSONAL DRINKING STANDARDS Drinking, from the Moral Standpoint, Is; Personal Drinking Standards Always Wrong Usually Wrong Sometimes Never Wrong Wrong No Reply Total M's Total H's ,.a M Ha M H M H M H Never drink 3 7 1 2 5 4 4 1 0 13 14 Socially or in moderation 0 21 1 11 18 4 18 0 4 37 36 Take it or leave it 0 2 0 1 2 0 1 0 1 3 3 Enjoy its effects; helps to relax 0 1 0 4 1 0 4 0 0 5 5 A private matter; when I need or feel like it 0 0 0 2 1 1 3 2 0 4 5 U> TABLE 27— Continued Personal Drinking Standards Drinking, from the Moral. Standpoint, Is: Total M ' s Total H's Always Wrong Usually Wrong Sometimes Never Wrong Wrong No Reply Ma Ha M H M H M H Like to drink 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 1 0 1 2 Drink heavily occasionally 0 0 0 0 1 1 0 0 0 1 1 Totals 3 31 2 20 28 11 31 3 5 64 65 Percentage 5 48 3 31 44 17 48 5 100 ioib aM = moderate; H = heavy. bMore than 100 per cent due to rounding. H ■-J 175 and it should be recognized that Table 27 does not represent any form of a scale on its horizontal axis, while its ver tical axis is nothing more than a nominal scale. It can be seen that only 5 per cent of the players look upon moderate drinking as always wrong, and another 3 per cent see it as usually wrong. Lenski found that De troiters were considerably more condemnatory of moderate drinking, with 21 per cent of the middle-class white Prot estants, 10 per cent of the middle-class white Catholics, and 23 per cent of the middle-class Negro Protestants be lieving it was always or usually wrong. Working class per centages were even higher, at 25, 12, and 25 per cent for white Protestants, white Catholics, and Negro Protestants 33 respectively. It is apparent that ballplayers are more tolerant of drinking then a random sample of people in a modern industrial urban center. These findings are contrary to the view of the major leaguer as a strict adherent to the Protestant Ethic. Forty-eight per cent of the players view moderate drinking as never wrong, while 44 per cent see it as some times wrong. Again, some of the explanations offered by the 3 3 * Lenski, The Religious Factor, p. 166. 176 players for this latter attitude include the infinitely reasonable position that some men cannot afford the finan cial burden of even moderate indulgence, while others cannot "hold" their liquor whether it is taken in large quantities or small. It is hardly surprising, and perhaps worth only a passing comment, that 48 per cent considered heavy drinking to be always morally wrong and an additional 31 per cent saw it as usually so. No comparison data are available in Len- ski's study; he evidently concluded that Americans are so strongly imbued with antipathy toward heavy drinking that comments on the matter tend to be superfluous. Table 28 summarizes the players' values and/or be havior with regard to drinking in general. It is clear that the largest number, 58 per cent, enjoy and approve of drink ing in moderation, while 1 in 5 (20 per cent) claim they never drink. Seven per cent give reasons for their drinking instead of stating how often they do so and in what quanti ties. These players, along with all the others who stated they either drank heavily, or when they felt like it, or because they like to, combine to make up 80 per cent of the respondents. It was estimated in 1965, when this sample of major 177 TABLE 28 PLAYERS' PERSONAL VALUES OR BEHAVIOR TOWARD DRINKING IN GENERAL Values or Behavior Responses; Totals Percentages Never drink 14 20 Socially or in moderation 41 58 Take it or leave it 4 6 Enjoy its effects; helps to relax 5 7 A private matter; when I need or feel like it 5 7 Like to drink 1 1 Drink heavily occasionally 1 1 Totals 71 100 leaguers was being studied, that 90,000,000 Americans cus- 34 tomarily drank alcoholic beverages. If this figure is compared with census data for mid-year (July 1), 1965 which reveal a total population of just under 195,000,000 peo- 35 pie, it might be assumed that 46 per cent of the American public normally consume alcoholic beverages. However, since children and teenagers cannot be included, and since the population of ballplayers is exclusively male, a more accu rate comparison would be with a population of males above the legal drinking age. In a study using males age 21 or older, 1 researcher reported 79 per cent responded affirma tively to the question, "Do you ever have occasion to use 3 6 alcoholic beverages such as liquor, wine, or beer . . .?" Another study, made a decade and a half earlier, set the 37 figure at 75 per cent. Ballplayers, it appears, have "^Robert Straus, "Alcohol," in Contemporary Social Problems. ed. by Robert K. Merton and Robert A. Nisbet (2nd ed.; New York; Harcourt, Brace & World, 1966), p. 267. 3->U.S. Bureau of the Census, Current Population Re ports . Series P-25, No. 379 (November 20, 1967), p. 2. ■^Harold A. Mulford, "Drinking and Deviant Drinking in the U. S. A., 1963," Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol. XXV (December, 1964), 634-650. 37J. w. Riley, Jr., and C. F. Marden, "The Social Pattern of Alcoholic Drinking," Quarterly Journal of Studies on Alcohol. VIII (September, 1947), 265-273, 179 drinkers and non-drinkers among them at about the same ratio as American males, although these data say nothing about the quantity of consumption. Notwithstanding the statistical gaps, careful ob servations made during the gathering of data along with comments made by several of the more communicative players compel the conclusion that those who drink do so with regu larity, usually after a game. Rationalizations frequently offered include: "a few beers never hurt anybody," "they keep you loose," "they help you maintain your weight," "they are better for you than coke," and "nobody over-does it anyway." Surprisingly enough, most of these statements are probably true. It is also true that very few ballplayers drink before a game, and most of the post-game tippling in volves beer and not the "hard stuff." What can be said about the player as moral man? First, he readily affiliates with some organized religion; 91.8 per cent claim to be either Protestant or Catholic (see 3 8 Table 20). There are proportionately more Catholics than 3®None of the players in the sample claimed to be Jewish, although 1 (who wrote "none" in response to the question on religious preference) has been so identified by the press. There are a number of Jewish major leaguers cur rently active, and several over the years became superstars, e.g., Hank Greenberg, Al Rosen, Sandy Koufax, but the 180 Protestants among ballplayers compared with national figures on the distribution of religious affiliations. Second, he is not a regular church goer, and tends to lag behind rates of attendance for the general public. Religion itself, that is, organized church services and ritual, is deemed rela tively unimportant, although at the same time, faith in God is openly espoused and the institution of baseball is filled with religious symbolism. Third, he believes generally that people should not play cards for money, especially when they cannot afford to lose, but his behavior is not always con sistent with his belief; he does gamble on cards, usually while on the road. Similarly, he goes to the race track relatively often, but thinks that people probably ought not to bet beyond their means. Fourth, he is more tolerant of drinking than the average citizen, but drinks only a little more frequently than men over the age of 21 in the general population. As for quantity of consumption, he probably is percentage is so small as to be insignificant in terms of the data for this study. It appears that Jews are under represented in major league baseball proportionate to their population in the society as a whole. Whereas Jews consti tute an estimated 3 per cent of the total population of the United States, they probably make up only 2 per cent, or less, of major league baseball players. See James W. Vander Zanden, American Minority Relations (2nd ed.; New York: The Ronald Press Co., 1966), p. 263. 181 a "better sport" than his male counterpart in other walks of life. One last measure of morality needs to be discussed before leaving the subject. It would have been extremely awkward to have asked a formal question about the degree to which ballplayers are unfaithful to their wives while they are traveling about the country. However, during the tape- recorded session this question was frankly asked. After considerable nervous joking and a few abortive attempts to change the subject, several players answered candidly and without reservation, or so it appeared. They admitted "some cheating" went on, but felt that the married players in general were no more unfaithful than typically healthy American males in other highly mobile occupations. As for single players, that was different. The "chase" was their other passion; next to baseball itself (and in more than a few cases, before baseball in importance), it consumed a large measure of their energies and interest. They fully recognized and appreciated the advantages which their name and fame brought to them in the way of attention from the gentler sex, and considered it an obligation, perhaps even a duty, not to disappoint their many admirers. Tales of sexual prowess and accomplishment were part of regular clubhouse conversation. To be promiscuous is 1 thing, and no shame is at tached to it nor to the discussion of it by single players, just so long as the listening audience is confined to the in-group. This group includes other players, trainers, clubhouse men, and some members of the front office staff. Occasionally members of the press are allowed to listen in, but it is clearly understood, although never stated, that this topic is not for public discussion. Outsiders are denied access to these privileged conversations, and not the least important reason is image. Here, of course, is an example of the strict controls over non-occupational behav ior which occupational norms demand; ballplayers are too important as marketable commodities for management to allow the tarnishing of their reputations as public heroes. No sportswriter ever does a column on the sexual habits of major leaguers, although many are aware of exactly what is taking place. This restraint, however, is probably func tional, since few people stand to gain anything from an ex pose of baseball players, while a great many stand to lose, including the baseball public. This public, like all peo ple, have problems and are entitled to their moments of diversion and belief in the unsullied purity of the men who 183 supply those moments. A final argument is, of course, that a ballplayer's private sexual life is his own business. If it is so that the major leaguer, regardless of his actual behavior, must appear to be a moral man with respect to his sexual behavior so the public image of the sports hero remains uncontaminated, considerable controls over certain aspects of his nonoccupational behavior are implied, and Hypothesis VIII is given strong support. One question bears asking, without irony or cyni cism: how truly different are these players from any young man today, who is obliged to play the American sexual "game" according to rules he did not make; who tries to appear virtuous before the world and others who value virtue, while doggedly seeking conquest after conquest, with no little pride attached to each success? The Player as Leisure Man To complete a typology of the major league baseball player as citizen and participant in society apart from his occupational identification, a series of questions were asked which were intended to discover how he uses his lei sure time, and which recreational activities he prefers. Responses to the question, "How do you usually 184 spend your free time during the season . . . and the off season?" were not surprising. Table 29 shows that the play ers' first choice during the season, when half of their time must be spent on the road, is with their families at home. The preferred way to spend leisure hours through the winter months is to indulge in some form of sports activity; the players cite sports 58 times, more than 3.5 times more fre quently than any other off-season use of leisure. Golf and hunting are the 2 most popular sports activities. It is worth noting that watching television and going to movies rank just below being with family as the most frequent lei sure activity during the season. Many players stated in conversation that a typical game day carries with it so many occupation-related neces sities that leisure activities are rather well-defined and limited. These necessities differ, of course, between a "road" day and a "home" day, but the common theme of keep ing mentally and physically sharp for the evening's (or the increasingly rare afternoon's) work pervade both. At home, the married player might rise at 11:00 A.M., eat a hearty brunch, play with his children or work around the house, or simply lounge in front of the television, read the sports sections of the daily papers (all of them) with special 185 TABLE 29 PLAYERS' WAYS OF SPENDING FREE TIME DURING THE SEASON AND OFF-SEASON Usually Spend Free Time Seasona Off-Seasona With family at home 23 16 Watching television 20 11 Going to movies 19 5 Reading or studying 16 5 Sports activities i —I 58b Resting or lounging 8 1 Social drinking in bars, at parties, or in clubs 7 3 Listening to music 7 4 Work at home, in the yard, on hobbies, shopping, etc. 4 7 Going to the beach or pool 5 6 Miscellaneous (travel, visit family or friends, dating, to dinner and show with wife, playing cards, etc.) 15 15 aMany players gave several responses. bSports activities engaged in during the season in clude: golf, 8; fishing, 2; hunting, 1; those engaged in during the off-season include: golf, 20; hunting, 15; gen eral outdoor sports, 11; fishing, 8; bowling, 3; and tennis, 1. 186 attention to the box scores and critical comments by sports- writers, and in general do little that might tire his eyes or body. Some light nourishment might be taken at 4:00 P.M., and by 5:00 he must leave for the ballpark. After the game, he might go out with his wife to eat, or he might go home. He probably will not go to sleep for 2 or 3 hours while he tries to "unwind." The single player might not do very much differently during the day, but after the game he often has a date, or has a few drinks with other players or friends. Occasionally this daily routine will be broken by a golf game or some other form of activity, with the accompanying rationalization that instead of being tiring it is "relaxing," and gets the mind off baseball for awhile. From time to time, managers have to put restrictions on activities such as golf or swimming and sun-bathing on the grounds that they do, in fact, tend to tire players who then cannot perform quite so effectively during the game. A typical day on the road is a bit different. After mid-morning brunch, the player may stroll around the down town area, shoot a few games of pool, take in a movie (most often a Western? see Table 30), or stay in his hotel room and watch television or play cards. But chances are, if he S! p ) > > s 01 n s! P) 3 O d d o ro 1 - 4•< <+ 0 1 0 1 3 0 1 rt- F- F- tl r o r+ H- X 0 o ro Pi ro o H- 3 p > 3 H- 1 - 4 0 3 H 0 1 ro 3 1 —1a 0 1 ro 0 1 0 1 P J 0 1 r - 4 V * C O P J H *< H V a W 3 F- d 3 1 - 4 & Pi 0 1 r o V a n O o n H 3 3 0 •C 3 0 1 t t > r+ ro F- H 3 •c O H O O O O H o j r o l u m u i o r o r o r o r u u > »£- <-n o o o o o h* ro o o o h h r o H o o o o o h ro O O o O H O O J-J M M r o ( J l C T i 0 1 o oi 0 0 d LQ1 b t ] pj < 0 n H- r+ ( D s 0 < H ( D 0 1 L e s s Than High School High School Graduate Some College to 2 Years College 2 Years College 3 Years College College Graduate Master 1s Degree M & 0 n f u <+ H- o 3 No Answer Totals § w V oi *1 1 | s d H ( - 3 M « H 2 tJ oi 0 § S H 01 S M 8 > i - 3 H O 21 TABLE 30 Many players gave several responses each. 0 ) h3 K O s: X o g O H- C D p P o 3 r t C O C O H 3 o Q ) P r t C D r t P p . g H O 3 t —1 P > 1 0 3 r t O ‘C p C O H- H- o O p C O C D r t P 3 3 < H- l -1 p i C D C D 3 C O 3 in d m p 3 0 3 ro u> oo ro ro U1 03 r -1 ( D t —* 0 < < d i n r+ O h H- C D C O P •P f - * O r t 10 881 p i o o o o o o O O O H* H O o r -1 i —* i —1 o ro o o o o h* o O O O I - 1 O f — 1 o o o o o o o o o o o ( —1 | —J ( —• LO OJ 00 t r j p j < o t - { H- r t C D s o < H- c d C O Less Than High School High School Graduate Some College to 2 Years College 2 Years College 3 Years College College Graduate Master's Degree td P d o p r t H- 0 3 No Answer Totals TABLE 30— Continued 189 does none of these other things, he will sit in the hotel lobby. Lobbysitting is 1 of the classic pastimes of major league baseball players. Its popularity is all but inex plicable, yet undeniable. As 1 team official remarked with more than a little consternation: I can't figure these ballplayers out. They come to D. C. several times each season, and do you think they care about seeing the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the White House? No I All they care about is sitting in the lobby of the hotel and reading the Snorting News. Why, once I even arranged a tour of the White House which included the likeli hood of shaking hands with the President! Was I embarrassed when only two players and the batboy signed up to go. I had to recruit, actually go out and Plead with several members of the team to make the tour so the ball club could save face.^® A typical post-game routine might include dinner at a late- serving bistro, perhaps a beer or 2, conversation (maybe a post-mortem on the evening's activities), or a grame of cards, the late-late show or 1 of the talk programs on tele vision, and then bed for the married man. The single player might follow the same routine, or he might have a date ei ther for dinner or drinks, or both. Some ball clubs enforce strict curfews, others do not, depending upon the philosophy •^Related to me during an interview in the offices of 1 of the major league ball clubs during the summer of 196 5 . 190 40 of the team manager. When a curfew is used, often it consists of requiring that players be in their hotel rooms within 2 to 3 hours after the game ends. This provides time for a normal meal, a few drinks, and a minimum amount of socializing. It can be seen from this description that the days and nights of a major league baseball player are rather rigidly circumscribed with rules, both formal and informal, that control his actions. Little time is available for elaborately planned leisure activities except on the occa sion of 1 of those infrequent "off" days, when the club is in its home city, does not have to board a bus, train, or plane to meet a commitment elsewhere, and the players are not called upon to work out because the team has been in the throes of a slump. It will be remembered that Hypothesis Xllb predicted major leaguers would be consumers of popular rather than high culture. These terms need careful defining. Lasswell, commenting on the categories of "highbrow, middlebrow, and ^Managerial philosophies and their effect on a variety of group variables would make interesting research. See the suggestions for such research in Chapter VII. 191 41 . lowbrow" which Lynes named and popularized, indicates: "Browedness" refers roughly to "taste." For the highbrow, this means preferences for avant garde literature, art and music; radical concern with functionality and beauty of material surroundings; special concern with the intellectual appreciation of objects, events, and processes; and most likely a highly developed dilettantism in one or two areas in which he is an amateur. The lowbrow is at the other end of the scale. He sits in his discount- house overstuffed lounging chair, watching the "shoot-'em-ups" on television, drinking beer, and longing to buy whatever is advertised in the com mercials It must not be assumed, of course, that "lowbrow" is en tirely synonymous with "popular" culture, although they may have many conceptual criteria in common. Ballplayers do, in fact, watch "shoot-'em-ups" on television (Table 30), and are quite frank about admitting their general preference for Western movies over all other kinds. They also enjoy beer. But chances are their living-room furniture is Danish mod ern rather than discount house, and many of them can and do buy what the television commercials advertise. ^Russell Lynes, The Tastemakers (New York: Harper S c Brothers, 1954), and A Surfeit of Honey (New York: Harper S c Brothers, 1957). AO Lasswell, Class and Stratum, pp. 230-231. It should be noted that Lasswell is critical of Lynes, calling his observations "impressionistic," "uncontrolled," and "casual" (p. 482). 192 Another view is that expressed by the writer, film critic, and social analyst, Dwight Macdonald, who states, ". . . 1 try to define the peculiar quality of what is some times called 'popular culture,1 though I prefer the term 43 'mass culture.'" In his elaborate and erudite discussion, he equates mass culture with Lynes' lowbrow, and the lat ter 1 s middlebrow with "midcult." Both masscult and midcult are, according to Macdonald, slowly but effectively ruining whatever "high culture" has been able to survive. His argu ment is not directly relevant to the purposes of this study, but the matter-of-fact assignments he makes of certain be havior as correlates of mass (or popular) culture are. For example, he assumes the reading of Life magazine is mass- 44 cult; Table 31 reveals that ballplayers read Life, and its counterparts, Look and Saturday Evening Post, regularly. Similarly, he regards television as "the most senseless and 45 routinized expression of Masscult." Table 32 shows that watching television ranks high among the favorite kinds of recreation and entertainment of major leaguers. In contrast to the interest ballplayers evince for ^Dwight Macdonald, Masscult & Midcult (New York: Partisan Review. 1961, dist. by Random House), p. 3n. 44lbid.. pp. 12-13. ^^Ibid., p. 76. TABLE 31 MAGAZINES PLAYERS USUALLY READ, BY EDUCATION Magazines Read Education C D O Q ) C D C D -P C D +J Cn cn Cn r d C D C D C D C D n U O i —1 1 —1 I — d Cn i —) 1 —I Cn rH rH rH r d C D o 0 W 0 O O U a C 0 o rH O u u o u < d x! XI C D r —I c n C D X! 0 O -P 0 c n c n c n C D - £ ^ C / 3 03 ( d CJ M U u tn u c o 0 3 d r d r d r d C D C D c i —i C O XI x: d C D 0 ) C D C D i —1 -P < r d t o Cn cn r d e :» >H rH c n -P 0) -rH ■ ■ H M 0 0 r d 0 0 W 0 03 OJ OJ n o s S3 E h 0 11 8 5 2 5 0 0 31 0 8 5 5 2 4 1 1 26 0 5 3 3 1 ' 4 1 0 17 0 5 4 1 1 2 0 1 14 0 4 1 2 1 0 1 1 0 9 Sports magazines Picture magazines (Life, Look, Saturday Evening Post) News magazines (Time. Newsweek. U. S. News & World Report, etc.) Men's magazines (Playboy. Esauire) Outdoor magazines (Hunting. Field & Stream, etc.) H1 VO CjJ TABLE 31— Continued Magazines Read Education C D O C D C D C D 4 - ) C D •p Cn in Cn r d C D C D C D C D P P Q ) i —1 r-( 1 —1 d Cn 1 —1 I —1 pi I —1 1 —t f —1 r d < D o 0 C D 0 o 0 P O C 0 0 O CJ o CD p ( d si Si 0 1 —I C O C D Si o 0 +J 0 C O C O C O C D - £ E h CO co r d o U p p Cn p C O C O P ( C l f t c d C D C D c —1 C O Si Si d C D C D C D (D i —i •P r d r d t o On cn m £ f* i —i C O -p CD -rH ■rl H 0 o i d o O lb It It o CO OJ OJ n u a it . _ _ P c 0 2 1 1 0 0 0 1 5 Digests (Readers Digest) Miscellaneous (science, busi ness, detective, western, comics, Ebony, National Geo graphic. Holiday, etc.) None, or no answer 0 0 16 15 Specific magazines and times chosen: Life, 21; Look. 13; Sport. 11; Playboy. 11; Time. 8; Newsweek. 8; Saturday Evening Post. 6; Sports Illustrated, 5; Readers Digest. 5; Field & Stream. 3; and many with 1 or 2 readers each. < s > TABLE 32 PLAYERS' FAVORITE RECREATION AND ENTERTAINMENT, WITH FREQUENCY OF PARTICIPATION Activity Frequency None Given t d w i— j -p o E H . Often, Twice o r More a Week Once a Week Twice a Month Once a Month Occasionally As Often as Poss ible All sports 6 8 3 4 1 20 76 118 (Spectator sports only) (2) (4) (1) (1) (1) (3) (36) (48) (Participating sports only) (4) (4) (2) (3) (0) (17) (40) (70) Movies 6 5 1 2 4 2 17 37 Television viewing 6 0 0 0 0 1 19 26 Night clubs 0 0 1 0 1 0 18 20 Stage musicals 0 0 1 0 2 1 9 13 TABLE 32— Continued Activity Frequency 1-14 Q) d) 0 -P X o IS X G -P t —1 01 'rH 01 0 G i —I at G > nJ QJ s O nJ 0) £ IS £ G P Q ) > ft O 0) i - l • H «3 ^ p id •rH +> rU 0 U) G 0 (U M <HH -rH H a) s a) o 0) rO o w 0) r t -p o •rH u 0 01 G -P 4-J U G c U 0] o O O o o O Eh O O £ Eh Dancing Hobbies Stage dramas Art exhibits and museums Listening to music Othersb 1 0 0 0 0 1 9 11 0 0 0 0 0 0 8 8 0 0 1 0 1 0 3 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 4 4 1 0 0 0 0 0 1 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 3 3 aThe totals far exceed the number of respondents because several choices were given by each player; some players even listed the different kinds of sports they enjoyed and the frequency of their participation in each. ^Included in this category were traveling (1), gambling (1), and home with family {1). 197 popular movies and magazines, there is a conspicuous lack of appreciation for many of the activities highbrows supposedly 46 value. Only 4 players said they enjoyed attending art shows or touring museums (Table 32), while sports, both viewing and participating, received 118 citations. Further, alternatives such as attending operas or the ballet were suggested on the questionnaire, but not 1 player selected either. In a pioneering study of leisure, George A. Lundberg and his associates induced several thousand people who lived in Westchester County, New York to keep detailed diaries of all their daily activities for a period ranging from 1 to 7 days. Part of the findings included the mean number of minutes per day spent on certain leisure pursuits, differ entiated by occupational category and sex. Although direct comparisons between the sample of ballplayers and Lundberg's “ ^According to 1 researcher, highbrow taste can be operationally defined and measured by 6 items: "attendance at theaters and concerts, musical taste, hours spent read ing, number of books read, and types of magazines read." More specifically, he states, "Upper brow musical taste in dicates a preference for classical music." Highbrow maga zines include Harper 1s, The New Yorker. Saturday Review, and others. See Joel E. Gerstl, "Leisure, Taste and Occu pational Milieu," in Work and Leisure, a Contemporary Social Problem, ed. by Erwin 0. Smigel (New Haven, Conn.: College and University Press, 1963), pp. 159-161. sample are difficult because the former were not asked to record most of their leisure preferences or behavior on any time dimension; nonetheless, some of the results are so strikingly dissimilar, they give strong indications of sig nificant differences. In every case, males who were white collar workers, professionals and executives, laborers, or unemployed, all spent close to double the amount of time 47 reading each day than they did participating m sports. Since only 2 ballplayers said they considered reading to be a favorite form of recreation (Table 32), as opposed to the aforementioned 118 choices for sports, it is apparent that very little time could be set aside for reading. Amount of time spent on recreational reading has been used as a meas- 48 ure of high- and lowbrow taste. Interestingly enough, Lundberg's data revealed that male high school and college students completely reversed the relationship, and spent twice as much time participating in sports as in reading. Perhaps it would be more accurate ^George A. Lundberg, Mirra Komarovsky, and Mary Alice Mclnerny, "The Amount and Uses of Leisure," in Mass Leisure. ed. by Eric Larrabee and Rolf Meyersohn (Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1958), p. 180, Table III. ^Gerstl, "Leisure, Taste, and Occupational Milieu," p. 160. 199 to compare ballplayers with these younger men; but even then, the former's infrequency of selecting reading as a preferred leisure activity is remarkable. The use of the Lundberg study for comparison im plies, and this should be made clear, an a priori decision that sports as a leisure activity is more lowbrow than read ing. This assumption overlooks such potentially important factors as the quality of the reading, or the vagaries of 49 taste from 1 generation to the next. However, just so long as the central point of this discussion remains the hypothesis that ballplayers are more likely to be consumers of popular rather than high culture, and in the absence of any objective criteria to separate 1 from the other, a, priori judgments are the only measures presently available. It seems clear, using Tables 29 through 32 as evi dence, that the major league baseball player is, indeed, a consumer of popular culture. In addition, he appears to be 49 For a thought-provoking and lucid discussion of a priori delineations of popular taste, see Kurt Lang, "Mass Appeal and Minority Tastes," in Mass Culture; The Popular Arts in America, ed. by Bernard Rosenberg and David Manning White (Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1957), pp. 379-384. Also, for a comment on the "quality" of reading as a factor in taste, see Gerstl, "Leisure, Taste, and Occupational Milieu," p. 166, n. 21. Gerstl maintains that to read books of any quality is higher brow than not to read books. 200 a sportsman both in the sense that he makes his living in sports and by virtue of his intense interest and participa tion in them for recreational and entertainment purposes. This view is supported further by data cited earlier showing an unusual interest among ballplayers in horse and dog racing. This chapter, by examining the major league baseball player in his role as private citizen, has attempted to show how this man differs from, or is similar to, other American men who pursue different occupational callings. In the chapter that follows, this same man is examined in his occu pational role, where many of the behavior patterns and values just discussed are re-evaluated in terms of a setting where unique services are performed and unusual standards, obligations, and rights are imposed or granted. An attempt is made to assess the influence the role has on its incum bent as private citizen, and reciprocally, how this citizen with his enviable array of talents, shapes the institution in which he earns his livelihood. CHAPTER V THE PLAYER AT WORK This chapter, in addition to supplying evidence aimed at testing a number of hypotheses about determinate occupations and adjustment to them, also presents data of a descriptive nature. The discussion begins with analysis of the recruitment process and the use of role models. Next, the players' evaluation of their profession is explored from a variety of standpoints, including job satisfaction, com parisons with other occupations, attitudes toward job- related risks and instabilities, and the contributions which baseball makes to American culture. Data are then presented on the players' views of themselves, both as individuals and as occupational types with certain distinguishable public images. This presentation is followed by a look at the baseball public as the players perceive it. The chapter concludes with an attempt to piece together the parts of the major leaguers' occupational milieu and in so doing define 201 202 the culture of the role. Preparing for the Role The serious student of the sociology of occupations is always concerned with the process by which a particular occupation selects its members. One of the questions this research seeks to answer is whether later role adjustment, operationally defined as the degree of professed happiness expressed by incumbents, varies according to the opportunity they had for prior intimate contact with persons function ing, or who had functioned, in the role. In other words, what effect does a role model have on the ballplayer's sub sequent adjustment to his occupation? Tables 33, 34, and 35 supply at least a partial answer to the question. It can be seen in Table 33 that 26 (37 per cent) of the players received help and guidance from their fathers while they were growing up; 5 more (7 per cent) had brothers who supplied that assistance; 1 ^This section on the culture of the ballplayer is modeled after the style and analytical techniques used in the paper by S. Kirson Weinberg and Henry Arond, "The Occu pational Culture of the Boxer," American Journal of Soci ology. LVIII (March, 1952), 460-469. Hereinafter referred to as Weinberg and Arond, "Occupational Culture." Similari ties and dissimilarities between boxers and ballplayers are pointed out when appropriate. 203 TABLE 33 SOURCE OF INFLUENCE IN CHOOSING BASEBALL AS A CAREER, BY PLAYERS' PROFESSED OCCUPATIONAL HAPPINESS Degree of Professed Happiness Source of Influence Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither, I Do My Job Fairly ! Unhappy Totals Per Cent Father 16 8 2 0 26 37 Brother 4 1 0 0 5 7 Uncle 0 1 0 0 1 1 Neighbor or friend 2 3 0 0 5 7 Coach or teacher 1 0 0 0 1 1 Nobody, or self- motivated 14 9 2 1 26 37 Everybody played in the area 2 1 0 1 4 6 Other 1 1 0 0 2 3 Totals 40 24 4 2 70 99a aLess than 100 per cent due to rounding. 204 TABLE 34 INFLUENCES OF INTIMATES VERSUS NON-INTIMATES IN CHOOSING BASEBALL AS A CAREER, BY PLAYERS' PROFESSED OCCUPATIONAL HAPPINESS Influence Degree of Professed Happiness Total Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither and Fairly Unhappy An intimate (father, uncle, etc.) 23 13 2 38 (Percentage) (33) (19) (3) (55) Not an intimate 17 11 4 32 (Percentage) (24) (16) (6 ) (46) Totals 40 24 6 70 Percentage 57 35 9 ioia aOver 100 per cent due to rounding. 205 TABLE 35 INFLUENCE OF ROLE MODELS IN CHOOSING BASEBALL AS A CAREER, BY PLAYERS' PROFESSED OCCUPATIONAL HAPPINESS Source of Degree of Professed Happiness Total Influence Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither and Fairly Unhappy Intimate had func tioned in the rolea 8 4 1 13 (Percentage) (21) (11) (2.5) (34.5) Intimate had not functioned in the role 15 9 1 25 (Percentage) (39) (24) (2.5) (65.5) Totals 23 13 2 38 Percentages 60 35 5 100 aThis means that the intimate had played either professional or semi-professional baseball himself at some time during the childhood of the major leaguer who emulated him. 206 player listed an uncle; 5 others (7 per cent) listed neigh bors or friends; and 1 player cited a coach. Together, these make up 38 players, or 54 per cent who were encouraged to make baseball a career by someone with whom they were intimately acquainted (Table 34). By contrast, 26 players, or 37 per cent, claimed that nobody in particular helped to motivate them but that, instead, they always loved the game and decided on their own to make it their career. Four other players (all Latin Americans, incidentally) insisted that in their childhood environments, everybody played base ball and hoped to make the professional leagues some day. Two players gave different explanations for their interest, which did not include the presence of intimate relatives or 2 friends to supply impetus (Table 33). Together, these total 32 players, or 46 per cent who credit no 1 person for 3 their occupational choice (Table 34). These findings are of passing interest, since they ^One player simply stated that geographical proxim ity to a park happened to make it possible for him to play often. Another, a black man, noted that "Jackie Robinson created much interest." These are isolated but interesting examples of occupational motivation. ^Several players said the prospect of making big money attracted them. For example, 1 wrote, "Herb Score signed for a large bonus which was impressive." 207 shed some light on the problem of the existence of role models, that is, persons who had been, or were at the time of contact, playing professional or at least semi-profes sional baseball. But what needs to be determined is how many of these fathers, brothers, uncles, or friends consti tuted legitimate role models. Table 35 points out that 13 of them had, in fact, been either professional or semi- 4 professional baseball players. Cross-tabulated with de gree of happiness, it can be seen that when the categories of "happy" and "fairly happy" are combined and contrasted with the combined categories of "neither" and "fairly un happy," 12 of the 13 players who had prior intimate contact with a role model indicated good job adjustment as measured by happiness. However, of the 25 whose intimate early con tacts had not functioned in the occupational role, 24 claimed to be happy and therefore adjusted to their job. Further, if the 32 players who claim not to have been moti vated by any individual are included in the analysis (Table 34), 28 of them profess occupational adjustment. It is quite clear that, in this sample at least, the existence of intimate role models during childhood seems to ^Five players in the sample (7 per cent) actually had fathers who were former professional ballplayers. 208 have been of little importance in influencing later occupa tional adjustment. The players who had no such models pro fess just as much happiness with their roles as those who had them. It is true that, taking the several degrees of happiness separately, more players who said they were very happy had role models than those who said they were fairly happy, just as more of the fairly happy had role models than did those who claimed neither happiness nor unhappiness. However, this progression is characteristic of the sample as a whole; the important thing to note is that, propor tionately, those with and without role models were equally adjusted. In terms of raw numbers again, there were simply a great many more very happy players than fairly happy, more fairly happy than neither, and more who claimed neither than admitted they were fairly unhappy. Hypothesis VI is not supported, at least among this sample of major league baseball players, despite the fact that Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr., when framing this and several other hypotheses concerning adjustment to roles, explicitly cited previous investigations by prominent social scientists 5 which generally affirmed his propositions. A more extended '’ " A d j u s t m e n t of the Individual," p. 618, nn. 1-9. 209 discussion of the whole role model idea seems to be in order. One possible explanation for the findings is readily available, suggested by comments made by a number of the players. They emphatically declared their earliest recol lections were of intense interest in baseball. They always loved the game, and, with the other boys in the neighbor hood, played and practiced every chance they got, went to the local ballpark to watch professionals or semi-profes sionals in action, and generally followed the careers of all the major league stars whose names appeared daily in the sports pages of newspapers, or whose faces could be seen regularly on television. In short, there may have been an absence of a specific role model in the family or among the acquaintances of a budding major leaguer, but there was no dearth of visible high caliber models to be found among the major league stars of the day. In fact, to further support this view, 1 player flatly stated, 111 became interested mostly from playing with the guys and watching games on TV." A conclusion which may well be warranted here is that intimate early contact with a role model might be im portant for later adjustment to occupations about which little is known or readily observable. In the case of the 210 baseball player (and probably only partly attributable to the thick coating of glamour applied by the mass media), most young boys accept the idea that being a major leaguer is highly desirable; the matter of adjustment (or happiness) is hardly a factor. Indeed, as Table 33 shows, an over whelming majority of players are, in fact, very happy with their role. For most, it is a dream fulfilled. More will be said about job satisfaction later; let it suffice to say now that the rewards offered by profes sional baseball are substantially the same as those so often expressed in the classic American success stories. The main ingredients are these: individual talent (God-given), hard work (a sign of character in a man), sticking indefatigably to the goal, and the appearance at a propitious (and pre dictable) moment of a little bit of luck,^ will lead to fame, fortune, success, and of course happiness. And if the rewards in baseball are publicized and apparent to all, so are the obligations which the occupation imposes. The ®This last feature is an inevitable part of the Horatio Alger myths. For a critique of these success stor ies, see R. Richard Wohl, "The 'Rags to Riches Story1; An Episode of Secular Idealism," in Class, Status, and Power: Social Stratification in Comparative Perspective, ed. by Reinhard Bendix and Seymour Martin Lipset (2nd ed.; New York: The Free Press, 1966), pp. 501-506. 211 following passage from a popular introductory sociology text suggests why the baseball player might be able to adjust so readily to his occupational role. It may also, if its cen tral contention is valid, suggest strong qualifiers to Cot trell's hypothesis that intimate contact with role models facilitates later adjustment: . . . many of the ideas of Protestantism continue to support modern industry. Self-discipline persists in the interest of attaining removed goals such as wealth and high status. Initiative, hard work, and success in one's work are still approved. These values eliminate the need for extensive socialization within industrial organizations in the Western World. Individuals come to an organization already incul cated with appropriate behavior patterns.^ Perhaps, then, with regard to the behavior of work ers in industry today, the role-model hypothesis is faulty. Perhaps adjustment, or role happiness, is affected only in cases where the occupation in question is relatively ob scure, exotic, or for other reasons not well known to the bulk of young Americans about to choose a career. In gen eral, these young people know what to expect from most oc cupations. Baseball players, with the abundance of exposure their career gets in the mass media, probably know better than others in different career fields. 7 Broom and Selznick, Sociology, p. 632. 212 To test Hypothesis VII, which assumes that occupa tional adjustment varies with the opportunity for prior re hearsal or practice in the role, data were gathered on the players' ages when they joined and played on their first organized team. Table 36 reports the findings, controlled for professed happiness with the role at the time of the s tudy. It can be seen that the earliest team affiliations were at the age of 7 years, the latest (only 1 player) at 17 years. Ten years of age was the mode (12 players) and also the median. The mean age was 10.4 years, when the 5 players who failed to respond are excluded, although this figure is not statistically meaningful since the 1 respon dent who was 17 creates an imbalance and distorts the mean. With respect to adjustment, 43 players (59 per cent) claim to be very happy, 24 (33 per cent) fairly happy, only 4 (5 per cent) neither happy nor unhappy but just do their job, and 2 profess to be fairly unhappy (3 per cent). The complete question as it appeared on the questionnaire con tained more elaborate qualifiers for each choice (see Ap pendix A for Questionnaire), among which were the stipula tions that those who chose "very happy" would gladly select the same occupation again if given the chance, or those who 213 TABLE 36 AGE OF PLAYERS UPON JOINING FIRST ORGANIZED TEAM, BY PROFESSED OCCUPATIONAL HAPPINESS Degree of Professed Happiness Per Age Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither, I Do My Job Fairly Unhappy Totals Cent 7 6 1 1 0 8 11 8 6 3 0 0 9 12 9 3 6 1 0 10 14 10 7 4 0 1 12 16 11 3 2 0 1 6 8 12 8 2 1 0 11 15 13 3 2 0 0 5 7 14 1 0 1 0 2 3 15 1 3 0 0 4 5 16 0 0 0 0 0 0 17 1 0 0 0 1 1 None given 4 1 0 0 5 7 Totals 43 24 4 2 73 99a Percent age 59 33 5 3 100 aLess than 100 per cent due to rounding. Mode = 10 years of age Median = 10 years of age Mean = 10.4 years of age 214 chose "fairly happy" admitted to a few job dissatisfactions but in general would pursue the same career a second time. Significantly, nobody took option "e," "very unhappy." It is obvious that the ballplayers are generally quite satis- 0 fied with their chosen careers. A more thorough discussion of the several listed dissatisfactions appears below. Although the data here are somewhat elusive, it is probably true that no observable relationship exists between age on first organized team and occupational adjustment. Six of 8 respondents who were 7 years old when they first joined an organized team said they were presently very happy. But 8 of 11 at age 12 said the same thing. Whereas the 9-year-olds for some inexplicable reason showed markedly less happiness (and adjustment), the 8- and 10-year-olds exhibited substantial happiness. In addition, the single 17-year-old also claimed to be very happy. So in the case of these players, the length of time they were exposed to 0 Most players, and managers too, consider themselves so fortunate to be major leaguers that obvious occupational inequities are minimized or considered relatively unimpor tant. For example, Gene Mauch, recently fired as manager of the Phillies after 8 comparatively successful seasons, had this to say: 111 don't want to make a big issue of it. If someone had told me 11d be here nine years, I'd have said they were nuts. I didn't get a raw deal. There is no raw deal in major league baseball." "Mauch Comment," Los Ange les Times. June 20, 1968, Part 3, p. 2. 215 organized team baseball prior to their entry into the pro fession had no apparent effect on their later occupational 9 adjustment. This conclusion assumes, of course, that play ing on organized teams for youngsters is equivalent to "prior rehearsal or practice in the role." This may or may not be so, since the caliber of such teams is hardly con stant. Before generalizing about the hypothesis, some other criteria need to be examined. The players were asked to list their minor league teams along with the years they played on each. The use of these teams as measures of "prior rehearsal or practice in the role" seems, at least on the surface, to be appropriate since they exist for the express purpose of preparing tal ented young players for the major leagues. Included in this preparation, it must be presumed, is the chance for each player to discover if he wishes to persist in his quest for the greatest rewards and highest status the profession ^One researcher reported, however, that major league players tend to start playing baseball at an earlier age than minor leaguers. This supports the idea that "success," if not adjustment, is related to prior rehearsal opportunity in an occupation. See John Peter LaPlace, "Personality and Its Relationship to Success in Professional Baseball," Re search Quarterly of the American Association for Health. Physical Educationr and Recreation. XXV (1954), 313-319. Hereinafter cited as LaPlace, "Personality." 216 offers: i.e., reaching the major leagues. Stated in opera tional terms, the question being posed is this: will the players who spend the greatest number of years in the minor leagues, serving an apprenticeship, be the same persons who profess the greatest happiness with their occupation? Before looking at the data on this subject, a number of perturbing problems present themselves, and merit brief exposure. It has been stated several times throughout this study that the occupation of professional baseball player is unique in many ways, and deserves special consideration with respect to patterns, processes, and propositions which apply generally to other occupations. The maxim seems applicable once again. For example, in most occupations, if a person is given the opportunity to serve in an apprenticeship role, it is usually for no longer than a year, with notable ex ceptions for professions, especially doctors who must intern for a year and then complete a residency that may last for 3 or more years. Then, the trainee is admitted as a full- fledged member of the profession or trade. However, in the case of the professional baseball player, minor league ap prenticeship may vary from no service at all to as much as 8 to 10 years, although it is estimated by baseball offi cials that the average length of time is 3 to 4 years. But 217 what especially differentiates baseball from other fields of work is the 2-way nature of the recruitment and retention process. A man who has struggled to make it to the major leagues may be demoted at any time and be sent back to an apprenticeship role once again. Doctors are protected from this kind of treatment, except in rare cases of incompe tence; so are lawyers, plumbers, and bus drivers. Two factors influence this unusual situation. First, no other occupation (aside from other sports and some forms of entertainment) is carried on so publicly, where one's performance is capable of being judged by literally thousands of people, instead of an ethics board, licensing board, or some similar panel of experts. In addition, base ball sees to it that each player's performance is highly publicized, with the criteria for acceptability common knowledge. Second, few occupations depend so completely upon physical condition, which implies youthful partici pants . In short, baseball is different from nearly all other occupations. Therefore, any data on occupational adjustment based on years spent in "learning the game" and perfecting one's skills must be viewed in terms of the spe cial conditions under which baseball players operate. 218 Table 37 clearly shows that Hypothesis VII is not supported with respect to the occupation of major league baseball player. In fact, instead of the proposition that more years of prior rehearsal might be conducive to better subsequent role adjustment, the opposite seems to be the case. Those players who spent 4 or 5 years in the minor leagues evidenced less happiness than did those who spent 3 or 4 years in the minors. Some speculation about the rea sons for this phenomenon seems to be required. The player kept in the minor leagues longer than 1 of his former minor league teammates who has been promoted to the majors is bound to feel some loss of personal status. Resentment may result, and a growing conviction that one's talents are unappreciated and that management has miscalcu lated the potential value of the contribution which could be made. The player begins to feel that a trade sending him to a different organization which would recognize skills here- 15___ tofore unutilized might be desirable. Another factor may be the loss of income suffered $hile on farm teams; again, a comparison with former friends and colleagues who have "made it" is inevitable, not to say apparent to all. Thus, when a player finally earns his promotion to the big leagues, in stead of feeling unqualifiedly grateful or fulfilled (as 219 TABLE 37 YEARS SPENT IN THE MINOR LEAGUES PRIOR TO FIRST FULL SEASON IN THE MAJOR LEAGUES, BY PLAYERS' PROFESSED OCCUPATIONAL HAPPINESS Years in Minors Degree of Professed Happiness Totals Very Happy Fairly Neither, I Happy Do My Job Fairly Unhappy 1 1 1 0 0 2 2 5 0 0 0 5 3 10 2 1 1 14 4 7 4 0 0 11 5 5 7 1 1 14 6 1 2 0 0 3 7 2 2 0 0 4 8 0 2 0 0 2 9 0 0 0 0 0 10 0 1 0 0 1 11 1 0 0 0 1 Totals 32 21 2 2 57a aThis total is well under the N of 73 because it was necessary to omit several categories of players. So-called "Bonus Babies" were not included because, by league rule, they were obliged to stay on the major league roster for a prescribed period of time. Also omitted were several Latin- American players who played an unknown number of years on teams in their own countries before coming to the profes sional leagues in the United States. Finally, several rook ies were omitted because it was apparent they had been brought up to the major league team at the end of the season simply for exposure and experience prior to another minor league assignment the following year. 220 management no doubt would want), he feels instead that what should rightfully have been his a season or 2 (or more) earlier but which was denied him, now by its very realiza tion has proven his contention all along that he had major league ability. It is no surprise, therefore, that in the special occupational circumstances surrounding professional baseball, hypotheses about expected behavior in organized groups (i.e., "roles") which normally apply are not appro priate, and perhaps new hypotheses need to be generated. The actual recruitment process into professional baseball is well documented in popular stories, novels, and sports columns. Occasionally an unusual discovery is made in a try-out camp or in the backwoods where scouts would least expect to find a likely prospect, similar to the way some Hollywood glamour girls are supposedly found at a lunch counter. But for the most part, talent for the major leagues is recruited through a meticulous and systematic screening process, highly competitive in nature, which leaves few, if any, avenues of inquiry unexplored in the quest for tomorrow's Ruths, Musials, Mays's, and Mantles. On the basis of interviews, discussions, readings, personal experiences, and responses to the questionnaire, it is pos sible to construct a graphic representation of the typical 221 recruitment pattern into the major leagues (see Figure 1) . It shotlld be apparent that the road to success in professional baseball is usually long and arduous. It was estimated in a research study done in 1951 that only 1 of every 383 players entering professional baseball reaches the major leagues."^ This same study reported that, on the basis of personality trait differences as measured by the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory, major leaguers differed from minor leaguers in the exercise of greater self-discipline and they also got along better with other people. In addition, major leaguers were characterized by strong drive manifested in ambitiousness, vigorousness, and aggressiveness, whereas minor leaguers revealed personality patterns similar to that of an individual with behavior problems.^ These findings show that evidently the man who reaches the major leagues deserves to, if it can be assumed that drive and ambition are virtues that should be rewarded. The ideology of the Protestant Ethic makes such an assump tion; thus, here is additional support for Hypothesis V. 10Ibid- 1:1 Ibid. 222 PUBLIC LIFE HONORS AWARDS IMAGE NORMS ROLES PROFESSIONAL MAJOR LEAGUES STARS RELATED JOBS; MANAGERS AVERAGE P LAYERS TTT_ ^ „ COACHES MARGINALS SCOUTS FRONT OFFICE PRIVATE LIFE VALUES GOALS NEEDS FAMILY STATUS DROP-OUTS PROFESSIONAL MINOR LEAGUES PLAY 1 TO X YEARS, FAIL ROOKIE LEAGUES HIGHER MINORS LOWER MINORS WINTER BALL < DROP-OUTS PLAY SEMI-PRO X YEARS, FAIL DROP-OUTS LOSE INTEREST LACK SKILL ± TRY-OUTS SOUGHT-OUTS WANT TO TRY PRO OBVIOUS TALENT CAREER, HAVE SOUGHT BY MAJOR SOME SKILL, LEAGUE SCOUTS, RECEIVE SOME OFFERED BIG ENCOURAGEMENT BONUS i________ t _______ t AMATEUR LEAGUES LITTLE LEAGUE BABE RUTH LEAGUE AM. LEGION CHURCH LEAGUE COLT LEAGUE SEMI-PRO SANDLOT LEAGUE HIGH SCHOOL COLLEGE _______________________________t________________________________ X NUMBER OF YOUNG BOYS PLAYING BASEBALL IN THE USA, CANADA, AND THE LATIN AMERICAN COUNTRIES Fig. 1.— Typical recruitment pattern into major league baseball. 223 How the Plavers See Their Role It has already been reported that a substantial majority of major leaguers (59 per cent) are completely satisfied with their careers and would choose to do the same thing if given the chance a second time (see Table 36). Table 38 reflects the same variable of job happiness, this 12 time cross-tabulated by ethnic category. It is worth noting that the proportion of blacks and whites claiming to be "very happy" is approximately the same (60 per cent for blacks, 59 per cent for whites), but of the 2 players who claim to be fairly unhappy, 1 is Latin and the other black American. When happiness is controlled for age (Table 39), it can be seen that the youngest players profess the greatest proportionate degree of happiness, but as players get older and have been in the business longer they grow less unequiv ocally satisfied with it. Then, after they reach what for baseball players is a ripe old age of 35, they reverse themselves and show extreme happiness once again. Of ■^For a brief but thorough summary of research and theory on job satisfaction, see Raymond A. Katzell, "Per sonal Values, Job Satisfaction, and Job Behavior," in Man in a World at Work, ed. by Henry Borrow (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1964), pp. 341-363. Hereinafter cited as Kat zell, "Personal Values." 224 TABLE 38 HAPPINESS WITH OCCUPATION, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category Degree of Professed Happiness Totals Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither, I Do My Job Fairly Unhappy White North American 34 22 2 0 58 Black North American 6 1 1 1 9 Latin American 3 1 1 1 6 Totals 43 24 4 2 73 ( 59%) (33%) (5.4%)(2.7%) (100%)a aRounded. 225 TABLE 39 HAPPINESS WITH OCCUPATION, BY PLAYERS' AGES Players' Ages Degree of Professed Happiness Totals Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither, I Do My Job Fairly Unhappy 19-24 years 20 5 0 1 26 25-29 years 14 13 2 0 29 30-34 years 5 6 1 1 13 35-37 years 3 0 1 0 4 Totals 42 24 4 2 72 226 course, a player in his late 30's probably is eligible for a handsome retirement pension when he reaches the age of 50 13 or over, since he probably served the minimum number of 5 years to qualify for benefits. In addition, he may be on the verge of lining up a managing or coaching job, or he may have been able to make important contacts leading to a lu crative position in business after his active playing career 14 is over. Besides these possible reasons, the number of players expressing a high degree of happiness who fall into the age bracket 35-37 is so small (3 of 4 players) that no statistical importance can be attached to their choices. One possible explanation for the more favorable responses by the youngest players is their relative 1 o , Any player qualified to receive a pension may start at age 50; if he defers doing so, however, the monthly payments increase each year until he reaches age 65. Addi tional information on the pension plan is available through the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball, "Baseball Play ers' Pension Fund," pp. D-5 and D-6, 1965, private printing. This office is located in the RCA Building, West; 30 Rocke feller Plaza, New York, N. Y. •^Katzell, "Personal Values," pp. 350-351, reports that research has shown job satisfaction to vary with the values of the incumbents. In this case, veterans would value the potential contacts their present but slowly ex piring occupation might supply for the future, while younger players would be less concerned with this "instrumental" value and more likely to view their occupation in terms of "consummatory" values. See Hypothesis I. 227 innocence about some the game's drawbacks. Much of the glamour still persists for some time, before hot summers and occasional bad performances make their mark, and the "work" aspect begins to supersede the "fun" as a dominant motif. Limited experience with other kinds of occupations also may contribute to the relatively greater happiness of the younger major leaguers. Research has shown that persons tend to be more satisfied with their employment when they do not visualize it as keeping them from receiving satisfac tions from other sources.^ The players were next asked to list some of the things they especially liked and some of the unsatisfactory things about their occupation. Table 40 points out that money is the most attractive thing about the occupation for its participants, while travel, meeting people and making contacts are considered next in importance. These responses do not appear to be consistent with the popular image of the American baseball player. Heroic considerations such as ■^5Katzell, "Personal Values," pp. 355-356. The particular study cited was by I. C. Ross and A. Zander, "Need Satisfactions and Employee Turnover," Personnel Psy chology. X (1957), 327-328. It should be noted that Katzell has included an extensive bibliography of research on job satisfaction, values, and job behavior to which attention is invited for further information. 228 TABLE 40 WHAT PLAYERS ESPECIALLY LIKE ABOUT THEIR OCCUPATION Especially Like Frequency of Choices3 Money 43 Travel 27 Meeting people and making contacts 26 Fun or love of game 18 Competition and challenge 12 Prestige, recognition 12 Hours, schedule, length of season 11 Good living which results for family 7 Satisfaction through serving the public 6 Variety of the life 5 aPlayers made several choices each. 229 service to the public, fierce love of the game, and the importance of competition and challenge are clearly beneath matters of personal gain in the players1 hierarchy of val ues. Hypothesis I, based on these data, is rejected. The most frequently cited dislike (Table 41) was the amount of time spent away from home and family. Travel was cited negatively, just as it was offered as a positive fac tor earlier. Twice as many players said they disliked the hours as said they liked them. Then the players were asked, "How would you evaluate your profession, that is, what words best describe the kind of job it is for you?" Table 42 shows that the strongly favorable responses clearly outnumber the unfavorable ones. However, 25 players viewed their profession primarily in terms of material rewards rather than as an idealistic con tribution to American folk culture, and 12 called it a tough way of life. Although the data are far from conclusive, it would appear that there are some obvious job-related dis satisfactions among the players, substantiating Hypothesis XI. Turning to a slightly different emphasis, it was considered worthwhile to attempt to gather information on how the players perceived their occupational role compared 230 TABLE 41 WHAT PLAYERS ESPECIALLY DISLIKE ABOUT THEIR OCCUPATION Especially Dislike Frequency of Choicesa Time away from home and family 35 Travel 31 Hours, schedule, length of season 22 Insecurity of job 10 Air travel 7 Relations with management; their control over behavior 7 Job pressures 6 No dislikes 5 Sportswriters, publicity, and lack of privacy 4 Kinds of people you meet 3 Certain cities and ball parks 3 aPlayers made several choices each. 231 TABLE 42 PLAYERS' EVALUATION OF THEIR PROFESSION Evaluation Frequency of Choices3 Superlative ("Only thing I ever wanted," "Love to play," "Grate ful to have the opportunity") 13 Strongly positive (enjoyable, challenging, rewarding) 27 A good paying job, a good living 25 A tough way of life (short career, highly competitive) 12 Both good and bad 5 Brings enjoyment to people 2 aSeveral players gave more than 1 response. with other major occupational types. General groupings of occupations were selected which, for a number of a priori reasons, could be considered similar to bailplaying. The players were asked to choose which grouping they thought the major league baseball player fits into most appropriately. Table 43 shows that most of the players identify readily with the entertainment field, which includes such specific occupations as actors, singers, dancers, and musicians. Table 44 indicates that 36 of the 54 who selected enter tainers gave as their reason the opinion that the type of work and skills needed were the same or similar. Twelve responses cited professionals as the closest to ballplay- ing (Table 43), with professionals being identified speci fically on the questionnaire as doctors, lawyers, archi tects, scientists, artists, etc. Six players claimed the training for ballplayers and professionals was the same or similar (Table 44). Only 5 players cited skilled manual labor as being closest to their occupation, and 3 of the 5 said the type of work and skills needed was their reason. From these data it is obvious that a substantial majority of the players recognize a close affinity between what they do for a living and what the commonly recognized entertainer does. 233 TABLE 43 PLAYERS' CHOICE OF OCCUPATIONS CLOSEST TO PROFESSIONAL BASEBALL, BY PROFESSED OCCUPATIONAL HAPPINESS Degree of Professed Happiness Occupational Groupings Very Happy Fairly Happy Neither, I Do My Job Fairly Unhappy Totals Professionals (doctors, lawyers, architects, scien tists, artists, etc.) 10 2 0 0 12 Entertainers (actors, sing ers, dancers, musicians) 27 22 3 2 54 Skilled manual workers (machinists, carpenters, electricians, plumbers, barbers, etc.) 3 1 1 0 5 White collar workers (salesmen, clerks, drafts men , etc.) 1 0 1 0 2 Business executives (bank managers, owners of large retail businesses, fac tory owners, etc.) 0 1 0 0 1 Totals 41 26 5 2 74a aA few players gave more than 1 choice, while others did not respond at all. 234 TABLE 44 PLAYERS' REASONS FOR CHOOSING PARTICULAR OCCUPATIONS CLOSEST TO PROFESSIONAL BASEBALL Occupational Groupings Reasons for Choice H3 c fd U o £ O H i H i r H r-H < D rH -H >1 ^ -H tun B u o C D CO U ( 1 ) CO p f d tp H C -H -H 6 n - h •H CO r d U c d 04 u id rH g •rH co 0 ) iH 2 Q) o CO CO +J U fit fd (d h tn -rH g t •H G co td 0 ) c o s to i —i f d -p o E -i Professionals Entertainers Skilled manual workers White collar workers Business executives Totals 36 0 0 0 0 0 0 43 10 1 7 1 0 10 12 54 2 1 74E aA few players gave more than 1 choice, while others did not respond at all. 235 Especially interesting among the findings in Table 43 are the frequencies along the horizontal axis: degree of professed happiness with the occupation. It can be seen that of the 12 who chose professionals, 10 claim to be very happy and 2 fairly happy. By contrast, of the 54 who se lected entertainers, only half, 27 of the players, are very happy, while the rest have reservations of 1 sort or an other . It seems that how a man views his role can affect his occupational adjustment. Proportionately, major leaguers who identify with occupations which command con siderable respect (professionals like doctors and lawyers score quite high on all current scales of occupational prestige) are a good deal more satisfied with their role than players who see themselves simply as supplying the entertainment needs of a large and often fickle public. A more extensive analysis of the players' attitudes toward the baseball public will be presented below. To test further the hypothesis that the major league ballplayer will follow the Protestant Ethic to a large de gree, the sample of major leaguers was asked to describe their feelings about being in a high-risk job with good pay but brief tenure. Table 45 reflects their views. An over whelming number of players' responses, 90 of a total of 99 TABLE 45 PLAYERS' ATTITUDES TOWARD HIGH RISK JOB WITH BRIEF TENURE Specific Comments Accept It, See Nothing Wrong with It Players should prepare for afterward, make wise investments, plan for the future. 35 We have to make it when we can; prefer a risk for the chance for a big reward— big money; we have to work hard. 18 Accept it; it's the way it is; we knew it when we got into it. 15 The "game" opens doors for the future. 11 Thankful for the chance to play; love the game. 5 Bad for those who don't prepare for afterward. 3 No other way. 3 Totals 90 aMany players gave several responses each, which fell into more than 1 category. ro U) TABLE 45— Continued Specific Comments Critical of It Don 11 like it but don11 know what can be done. 3 It's a big problem. 3 Improvements are being made in pensions, etc., but a tax break is needed, and other things. 2 Don't like it and think changes should be made. 1 Totals 9 ro co -j 238 (many players gave multiple comments which fell into more than 1 category), were uncritical of the situation. Thirty- five players stated that major leaguers ought to prepare for afterward by making wise investments and planning for their future. Eighteen players said, "We have to make it when we can; I prefer a risk for the chance to make big money; we have to work hard." Fifteen respondents simply accepted it: "It's the way it is. We knew it when we got into it." Eleven frankly admitted, "The 'game' opens doors for the future." And 5 others answered with this self-explanatory comment: "I'm thankful for the chance to play; I love the game." Among the 9 critical responses, only a single player suggested areas for improvement, while the rest reflected discontent, but also a certain sense of powerlessness to alter the situation. Most of these replies express the major tenets of the Protestant Ethic quite clearly, and offer additional support for Hypothesis V. In addition, the candid admission by 11 players that the game can serve as a stepping stone to future employment is evidence against Hypothesis I, which predicted that men in this type of occu pation would view their work as an end in itself rather than as an instrument for future advancement. Table 46 merely adds to the findings of Table 45. TABLE 46 PLAYERS* ATTITUDES TOWARD BEING BOUGHT AND SOLD AT THE DISCRETION OF MANAGEMENT Attitudes No Reply Explanations Approve Dis- approve Both Totals It's necessary, a part of the game? like all businesses or jobs, you have to produce. 47 2 2 5 56 The player usually stands to benefit. 11 1 0 0 12 Want a stable home with security 0 3 0 1 4 Am loyal to and like my present organization 0 3 1 0 4 Players should be free to choose. 0 1 0 0 1 None 1 2 1 0 4 Totals 59 12 4 6 8ia Many players gave more than 1 response. ro 00 KD The players were asked their attitudes toward the practice of buying and selling talent at the discretion of team man agement, and their reasons for such attitudes. Fifty-nine of a total of 81 responses expressed approval of the system, despite the fact that players have no control over their own occupational destinies. Forty-seven respondents considered the process "necessary," and "part of the game; like all businesses or jobs, you have to produce." Eleven players suggested that trading usually benefited the individual as well as the team. Only 12 respondents disapproved of sell ing or releasing players if they failed to perform up to standard, or if the team needed to strengthen a position. Three of these players said they wanted a stable home with security, and 3 others claimed attachment to their present organization. Aside from the ideological implications of these attitudes toward an ethic of "produce or get out," other important ramifications are indicated as well. If such attitudes persist, it is highly unlikely that major league players, as employees, will ever gain a measure of power sufficient to permit them to influence their working condi tions . Despite the recent ascendancy of a united players 1 organization complete with legal counsel and team 241 representation, little progress has been made toward giving players a greater voice in matters concerning their occupa tional well-being. Salaries have been improved, retirement pensions are substantial, and certain restrictions on what can reasonably be expected of players have been imposed (e.g., owners and players have agreed that back-to-back doubleheaders may not be scheduled, and should be played only in the event of an emergency such as the need to make up a rained-out game). However, in general, players are so pleased merely to be in the major leagues that criticism of existing procedures and conditions is minimal. The fact is, of course, that ballplayers do make a great deal of money, they do attract considerable public acclaim, and their occu pation does allow them to make important contacts for their post-playing years. But only a very small proportion of men in the major leagues harvest a rich reward from their sta tus; most find the winter months to be a struggle; to find a job, to find a place to live, to stabilize their family life. To be sure, no major leaguer lacks enough to eat or money for recreation, but it is false to assume that all share equally in the handsome rewards that accrue to players with "star" status. And then there are the countless thou sands who fail to make it. Stan Isaacs, a talented 242 sportswriter, wrote in a recent book, "... there is little doubt that the positives in a career in sports outweigh the negatives." However, he adds, "... for the young man who has the talent to succeed as an athlete.Herein lies the rub, since only a few hundred in each professional sport, e.g., 500 in major league baseball at any 1 time, can be said to have "succeeded." Those who fall by the wayside represent a poignant study in disappointment and frustra tion, a failure to fulfill the American dream. The real tragedy is not their failure alone, for all men may fail, but their failure after total commitment. They are unpre pared to do anything else, despite baseball's claim that unsuccessful players are still young enough to enter other fields. Solutions to the many serious problems confronting professional baseball are not easily developed. Owners see the most vital problems as loss of fan interest or loss of games, both of which mean lower income. But players have a more immediate, day-to-day view of what ails their career. Their somewhat stoic approach to their "chattel" status, however, portends little constructive change in their behalf ^ Careers and Opportunities in Sports, p. 24. 243 in the foreseeable future. To determine how important players considered their occupation to be, and also to derive some measure of just how effective the campaigns of the mass media and of base ball management have been in influencing the views of play ers toward an exalted and noble conception of their work, a question was presented which asked, "In your own words, what do you think is the true contribution, not necessarily what the newspapers and magazines say it is, of the major league baseball player to American culture in general?" Table 47 reports the responses, cross-tabulated by ethnic category. The largest number of players, 27, saw their occupational role as an important model for kids, while a slightly smal ler number, 22, thought it was important for adults, as a form of recreation and release of tension. Predictably, of the 10 who listed "other important contributions" such as in race relations, or as an avenue of upward social mobility for poor boys, 4 of them were minority group members, who no doubt are sensitized to such purposes and may use them to justify their personal good fortune while their black brothers persist in the tortuous struggle to gain equality. A rather unusual finding, and one which defies easy explanation, is the overrepresentation of black players who TABLE 47 PLAYERS' VIEWS ON THE "TRUE" CONTRIBUTION OF THE MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL PLAYER TO AMERICAN CULTURE, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category "True" Contribution White North American Black North American Latin Totals Important for kids (as a model, idol, example, or for fun) 24 1 2 27 Important for adults (for entertainment, release of emotions, to keep mind off troubles) 15 4 3 22 As a hero or influence for fans of all ages 6 0 0 6 Other important contributions (helping in race relations, an avenue for upward mobility for poor boys, a "national pastime," etc.) 6 2 2 10 Very little or none 4 1 0 5 It is exaggerated by the press 0 1 1 2 Totals 55 9 8 72a Many players gave several responses while others did not respond at all. ro 245 saw themselves as contributing to adults (7 of the 15 re sponses), and the underrepresentation who saw themselves as contributing to children (3 of 27). Do the black players see themselves as "performing" for the edification of the paying public, something which blacks have been permitted to do in our society for generations? These data appear to suggest some possible hypotheses to be explored at some future time. Table 48 shows the players' reaction to the state ment: A ballplayer feels a direct . . . association with the legendary players of the past; he is a part of American history and therefore above the din of the average guy who works for a weekly or hourly wage. This was a quotation from an article by Andreano, discussed 17 above. It can be seen that there is a substantial divi sion of opinion, although more players consistently dis agree than agree with the statement. The cross-tabulation by education of the players indicates an unmistakable trend toward greater agreement as the educational level increases. It may be that college graduates either recognize their historic nexus with the past, as well as the current high •^"The Affluent Baseball Player," p. 13. TABLE 48 f PLAYERS' REACTION TO THE STATEMENT, "A BALLPLAYER FEELS A DIRECT ASSOCIATION WITH HISTORY AND LEGENDARY PLAYERS OF THE PAST," AND, "ABOVE THE DIN OF THE AVERAGE GUY WHO WORKS FOR A WEEKLY OR HOURLY WAGE," BY PLAYERS' EDUCATION Players' Reactions Education C D O C D < D ( D ■P C D ■p tn tn t T » t d C D C D C D C D P P < D r —4 1 —1 Td tn I —1 ! -1 tn' —J i —t T —{ r d C D 0 0 C D 0 O 0 P Q c o O 1 j u u u O r d -C ri a ) I —1 t n & O o -P o t n t n c n C D - H CO CO r d O P p p tn p c n p r d n j r d C D C D i —i U ) Jp jC n3 C D o C D C D i —! -P r d c n cn tn r d e >* J* >* rp C O •P a ) - h -H p 0 0 r d 0 J t r j W O CO OJ CM ro u S E h 0 5 2 3 2 4 0 16 1 7 6 2 0 2 0 18 0 1 0 2 0 1 0 4 0 2 3 2 0 1 1 9 Basically agree with statement Basically disagree Agree with part about history and legendary players of the past Disagree with part about history, etc, ro TABLE 48— Continued Players' Reactions Education 0 5 o tu ( D 0 5 -P 0 5 +j cn Cn C n rd 0 5 0 5 C D 0 5 3 U ( 1 ) i— 1 r- i— I TJ tn I — 1 1 — I tn i i— 1 i — I rd 0 5 0 o C D o 0 O S h P a o o ■H o o u O ftJ X i X ! C D 1 — 1 0 5 X I < J U + j O 0 5 0 5 0 1 0 5 - E H 05 05 0 U U U u cn u 0 5 0 rd rd rd 0 5 0 5 i— 1 0 5 X I X i TJ a > < d a) 0 5 1 — 1 +5 rd 0 5 Cn Cn (0 e > h lx >5 «H 0 5 -P < D -H •rH J - t 0 O rd O p w O 05 OJ OJ ro u S E h Agree with part about being above the average guy Disagree with part about being above the average guy Don't have any reaction Totals 0 0 0 5 0 4 1 2 0 0 0 1 2 0 22 18 11 12 1 0 14 2 70 Summary: All "Agrees" = 16 + 4 + 7 = 27 All "Disagrees" = 18 + 9 + 14 = 41 ro 248 status which their occupation enjoys, or they feel the need to legitimatize their association with this non-intellectual field of work. Whatever the reasons for their choices, the re sponses appear to indicate no general awareness by the play ers that they belong to any American folk hero mythology. Of course, their replies may reflect an unwillingness to appear snobbish; in fact, several players rather sharply stated during interviews that they did not feel "above" anybody. Several others protested that ballplayers are "just like anyone else.” These claims, however, are con tradicted by the data in Table 47, which reveal an acute awareness by the players that they serve the baseball public in a special way. Further information, reported below, will show a certain disdain for the typical baseball fan by a large number of players, a disdain which clearly implies not only substantial social distance between players and their public, but also a feeling by the former that they are, in deed, above the din of the average guy. How the Players See Themselves In an effort to gather data which would contribute to the construction of a typology of the major league 249 18 ballplayer's occupational role, the players were asked to describe the "typical" major leaguer. Table 49 reveals con siderable diversity in the descriptive adjectives players used to characterize themselves; in fact, 85 different "typical" players emerged. The most frequent description, by 17 respondents, typed the ballplayer as "much like anyone else, an average guy, like all professionals." However, 8 others said, "There is no typical player, all are different as in any profession." In addition to the inconsistencies in parts of these 2 statements, apparently there are identifiable fea tures which stamp ballplayers as special, because many re spondents were able to point them out. For example, 9 de scribed the typical players as "dedicated and determined about baseball," 8 said they are "self-centered, egotistical and conceited," 8 more characterized them as "good guys, good citizens, fine men," and 7 others labeled them "compe titive ." In addition to these commonly cited categories, ballplayers also saw themselves as "outgoing, extroverted, ■*-®The concept of a "constructive typology" is dis cussed at some length in Chapter VII under the section en titled, "The Major Leaguer: An Ideal Typology." 250 TABLE 49 PLAYERS' DESCRIPTIONS OF THE TYPICAL MAJOR LEAGUER Descriptions Frequency Used Much like anyone else; an average guy; like all professionals 17 There is no typical player; all are different, as in any profession 8 Dedicated, determined about baseball 9 Self-centered, egotistical, conceited 8 Good guys, good citizens, fine men 8 Competitive; loves sports 7 Outgoing, extroverted, aggressive 3 Generous 3 Humorous, with a good sense of humor 5 High-tempered 3 Friendly, gets along well with others 2 Frank, outspoken 2 Selfish 2 Other Adjectives Used Twice Devoted Fun-loving Good athletic ability Lives each day as it comes Inconsiderate Sincere Has good insight into life Easy-going Good family man 251 TABLE 49— Continued Other Adjectives Used Once Honest Adolescent Insecure Hypochondriac Carefree Reckless Moderately intelligent Above average intelligence Overly sensitive Arrogant Cocky Confused creatures Independent Works toward self- sufficiency Definitely not an average, everyday person Moody Impatient Perfectionist Optimist Well-trained Lots of common sense Quite normal, surprisingly Not terribly appreciative of the arts Ambitious Individualist Leader Prima donna Has interests not neces sarily good for himself or baseball Unassuming Nervous Colorful Conceals his personal life from the public Must be friendly to fans for good publicity Not too smart, not too dumb Not too rough or mean, but it's a tough game and sometimes he has to play that way Good church goer Kind Hardworking Even-tempered Vain Fairly well educated Getting an education through baseball High school graduate Has ability to concentrate Persistent Good dresser Confident Suspicious Uses poor judgment Temperamental, hides feel ings under easy-going exterior Entertainer In good shape The bigger the star, the better the person Thoughtful Likable Willing to help others Down to earth Keeps to himself more than the average guy 252 aggressive" (3), "generous" (3), "humorous, and with a good sense of humor" (5), and "high-tempered" (3). It is clear that most of these are complimentary descriptions. However, a number of negative adjectives were used, and these are listed, along with all the others, in Table 49. A tentative tally of the positive and negative self- evaluations, further divided into judgments about personal ity, about roles that are played, and about ability, intel ligence and education, yields these findings: Positive Negative Neutral Personality: 25 26 39 (stable) (unstable) Role behavior: 37 5 12 Ability: — — 6 Intelligence and education: — — 6 Totals 62 31 63 It can be seen that with respect to personality, the players were evenly divided between evaluating the typical major leaguer as being stable and unstable. However, when it came to typical roles enacted by this same professional athlete, the players saw him as generally performing according to norms that are considered virtuous: e.g., "good family man," "good church goer," "hardworking," "willing to help others," "a good citizen," etc. Although this classifica tion is admittedly imprecise, and probably could be re categorized by different evaluators in a variety of ways, its purpose is simply to provide a rough indication of the way major leaguers view a typical colleague. No attempt was made to structure the responses by supplying stipulated categories. The results are the spontaneous judgments of the players, and in general, when classified in these ways, reveal a certain concern about the presumably stable core of personal attributes which usually are considered one's per sonality. On the other hand, there is considerable agree ment that the actual behavior of players in situations gov erned by conventional norms is satisfactory, perhaps even exemplary. Of course it is only speculation, but a possible explanation for these unusual reactions is that players do, in fact, spend a good deal of time playingr not only during a game, but in the dressing room as well. This "horseplay" may lead many of the players to conclude that the typical major leaguer is a "character," a "kook," whose behavior is just a bit out of the ordinary in the company of intimates. But as soon as the conventional world begins to exert its influence, the same frivolous person plays his role 254 19 according to expectations. Indeed, some of the adjectives players use reflect their concern and support the proposi tion suggested here: e.g., "fun-loving," "adolescent," "carefree," "reckless," "insecure," "cocky," "confused creature," and on the other hand, "has good insight into life," "down to earth," "has lots of common sense," etc. At any rate, 1 generalization which can be suggested about these data is that ballplayers see the typical major leaguer as possessing many more positive than negative at tributes, however their evaluations may be categorized. In contrast to the way the players see their typical colleague, Table 50 reports their perceptions of themselves, that is, their self-images. Again, this question was un structured, and asked simply that each respondent describe himself as he really is, both as a baseball player and as a person. The results have been placed into 3 categories, 1 related to occupational performance, the second to person ality, and the third to conventional role behavior. In terms of the first category, 11 players saw themselves as •^For a discussion of "interpersonal roles," when an individual expresses his uniqueness, and "conventional roles," when behavior is in accord with expectations, see Shibutani, Society and Personality, pp. 46 and 326, et pas sim. 255 TABLE 50 PLAYERS' SELF-IMAGES „ . J . Frequency Descriptions „ , Used Related to Occupational Performance Good player (in general) 12 Average or fair player 12 Hardworking, trying to improve 11 Better-than-average player 7 Lots of potential 6 Struggling to make good 5 Hustling player 3 Promising future 2 Team man 2 Other adjectives used once: inconsistent, steady, like to play, want to win, better than I've shown. Related to Personality Friendly, get along well with everyone 9 Quiet, introverted 3 Easy-going 3 Sincere and honest 3 Kind 3 Generous 3 Determined 3 Can't describe self-image 3 Other adjectives used twice: decent, tough, aggressive, serious, proud (of performance), recognize weaknesses. 256 TABLE 50— Continued Descriptions Frequency Used Related to Personality Other adjectives used once: intelligent, funny, consistent, argumentative, hard-headed, trustworthy, confident, open-minded, different, outstanding as a person, patient with children, hold things in too much, moody, skeptical of people outside of baseball, lack confidence, lack concentration, happy and contented. Related to Conventional Role Behavior Just an average hardworking person 12 A good family man 3 Lucky to be where I am 2 A serious rebel 1 257 hardworking and trying to improve, while 5 others said they were struggling to make good, both characteristic values of people expressing the Protestant Ethic. Nine players described their personalities as friendly, and they claimed to get along well with everyone. Interestingly, 3 players called themselves quiet and intro verted, yet not 1 player described the "typical" major leaguer in those terms (see Table 49). It will be noticed that nearly all the adjectives or phrases are complimentary: e.g., "sincere and honest" (3), "kind" (3), "generous" (3), "determined" (3), "decent" (2), and of course, the 9 who saw themselves as "friendly." As is so often the case, men are unwilling, or perhaps unable, to attribute to themselves those weaknesses they so readily find in others. Under the category of conventional role behavior, 12 players labeled themselves as just an average person. Three claimed to be good family men, 2 others said they were lucky, and 1 thoughtful player saw himself as a serious rebel. These findings show the major leaguer to be a self- confident yet diligent person, striving to enhance his sta tus both occupationally and personally. He apparently has not glorified his own image, but neither has he overlooked 258 the fact that he possesses an unusual talent. He sees him self in a generally complimentary light and likes to imagine himself to be an average, friendly, hard-working individual who will succeed or fail by the amount of effort he expends and the determination he possesses. How the Players See the Public A widely-read American social psychologist has written: The comprehension of what a man does requires a record of (1) his definition of the situation, (2) the kind of creature he believes himself to be, and (3) the audience before which he tries to maintain 20 his self-respect. It is number (3) with which this section is particularly concerned. However, ever since the recognition by social scientists especially interested in perception that how a man thinks others view him may be more vital in terms of influencing behavior than how he is actually seen, a special emphasis has been placed on this dimension of social inter- 21 action. 2<“ *Shibutani, Society and Personality, p. 279. 21 A major impetus for this new emphasis was supplied by Renato Tagiuri. See his important paper, "Relational Analysis: An Extension of Sociometric Method with Emphasis upon Social Perception," Sociometrv. XV (1952), 91-104. 259 Table 51 reports on players' perceptions of how the public views each of them, personally. In other words, they were asked to estimate their public "image." There were a total of 115 different responses, indicating that many play ers gave more than 1 answer. Sixty-eight categories of replies emerged, revealing that there was very little agreement among the players. The largest number to agree on anything was the 6 who said they could not describe their image. Four players, all young, thought they had not played long enough to have created a public image. Several groupings were made to facilitate analysis of the data. Some answers related to occupational perform ance, others to personality, still others to conventional role behavior, and some specifically to talent. It can be seen that, under images having to do with job behavior, many players thought they were perceived by the public as hard-working, hustling, dependable performers who enjoyed their work and wanted to succeed, both personally and for the good of the team. Only 1 player thought he had a nega tive image with respect to how he performed in his role; he claimed not to be a crowd-pleaser. Under the category of talent, several players per ceived their public images as less than complimentary. For 260 TABLE 51 PLAYERS' PERCEPTIONS OF THEIR PERSONAL PUBLIC IMAGES Perceptions Frequency Perceived Related to Occupational Performance Hardworking, trying to improve 3 Struggling to make good 3 Perform to best of ability at all times 3 Hustling player 2 Promising future 2 Other public images used once: steady, puts on good exhibition, injury prone, wants to not a crowd-pleaser, likes to play. win, Related to Talent Average player, fair player 4 Below average player 3 Good player (in general) 2 Poor player (in some speciality, e.g., batting, fielding, etc.) 2 Lots of potential 2 Other public images used once: outstanding player (super-star), better-than-average player, used to be good player, good player (in some speciality), etc. 261 TABLE 51— Continued Perceptions Frequency Perceived Related to Personality Quiet, introverted 3 Friendly, gets along well with everyone 2 Tough 2 Determined 2 Other public images used once: easy-going, personable, intelligent, funny, decent, aggres sive, oddball, open-minded, well-mannered, serious, different, level-headed, warm, sincere and honest, happy and contented, big and strong, clean-living, skeptical of people outside of baseball. Related to Conventional Role Behavior Hero to youth 6 Celebrity to adults 3 Other public images used 3 times: lucky, a good guy, average person. Used twice: young boy. Used once: good family man. Other responses: can't describe my public image (6); no image, haven't played long enough to create one (4). 262 example, 3 players said they were below average as perform ers and 2 others labeled themselves as poor in some special phase of the game, such as batting. Interestingly, only 1 player in the sample stated that his public image was of a super-star, despite the fact that probably 5 or 6 respon dents legitimately might be described as such, using batting and pitching records as well as honors won as measuring criteria. ^ It is important to note that personality images were without exception complimentary or non-judgmental. By con trast, the "typical" player (Table 49) was less perfect, and even the self-images (Table 50) were described with adjec tives that were a bit more modest. These findings prompt the conclusion that ballplayers believe they project an image to the public which is not too different from the one the public relations men try so persistently to present. They think the fans see them as "friendly," "tough," "quiet," "determined," "sincere and honest," "warm," "clean-living," "decent," "personable," "intelligent," "aggressive," "happy and contented," and several others, most of which, once again, are traits which epitomize the values of the Protestant Ethic and therefore the values of a major segment of the American population. 263 One image about which there was at least a modicum of agreement (6 players) concerned the role of "hero to youth." Again, here is evidence that major leaguers are "taken in" by their own behavior; they believe the public sees them in the same terms as they attempt to project them- 22 selves, and, consequently, as they see themselves. If a man consistently presents himself in a particular way, he may grow to believe in his own role, whether or not he was 23 sincere in his behavior in the beginning. If Tables 50 and 51 are compared, it can be seen that there is remarkable similarity between the words the players used to describe their self-images and the words they anticipated the public might use in describing them. Thus, in attempting to understand the role behavior of the major league baseball player, it is perhaps significant that "the kind of creature he believes himself to be," and the kind of creature he thinks "the audience before which he tries to maintain his self-respect" believes him to be are closely linked to one another. If, as Mead, Cooley, and P P See the discussion on "Belief in the Part One Is Playing," in Goffman, Presentation of Self, pp. 17-21. ^See Robert E. Park, Race and Culture (Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1950), pp. 249-250. others have proposed, and as a number of researchers have 24 empirically demonstrated, a person's actions are formed by his perceptions of the views of others toward him, then the ballplayers sampled in this study must possess healthy and well-reinforced self conceptions and they must behave in ways that reflect self-confidence, since their perceived public images are undeniably favorable. Turning now from the players' views on how they are individually perceived to a more general evaluation of the pictures in the minds of the public, Table 52 summarizes responses to the question, "What do you think the public thinks the life of the ballplayer is like?" The adjectives "glamorous," "wealth-producing," and "easy" appear regularly 58 of 78 responses used them, or some combination of them. Fifteen more players openly stated the public viewed their life as better and easier than it is. A strong underlying current of derisiveness, perhaps even some bitterness, ac companies these assumptions by the players. It is reason able, however, to expect the players to exhibit some ag gressive tendencies toward the fans; after all, are they not 24 For example, see S. Frank Miyamoto and Sanford M. Dornbusch, "A Test of Interactionist Hypotheses of Self- Conception," American Journal of Sociology. LXI (1956), 399- 403, and the references at the end of their paper. 265 TABLE 52 PLAYERS' PERCEPTIONS OF THE PUBLIC'S VIEW OF THE LIFE OF THE MAJOR LEAGUER Public Thinks the Life Is: Frequency Used Glamorous: fun, travel, exciting, etc. 17 Wealth-producing, a gravy train 4 Easy, no problems, etc. 13 Both glamorous and wealth-producing 5 Both wealth-producing and easy 6 Both easy and glamorous 6 All three: glamorous, wealth-producing, and easy 7 Better and easier than it is 15 Disorganized: always traveling, drinking, etc. 2 Others 3 Total 00 r- aSeveral players made more than 1 response while others did not respond at all. 266 minimizing, at least in the players-- minds, the difficulties and problems involved in being a major leaguer? No man enjoys having his work typed as easy; in our society, anyone who is fortunate enough to arrange his affairs so that he need not work from 9 to 5 daily, or so he will receive re wards which overbalance the costs involved, still finds it necessary to appear to be fully and exhaustingly occupied like everyone else. This is a part of the work ethic that so often has been discussed on these pages, and which is apparently so pervasive up and down the social strata of the nation. Table 53 reflects some of the derision expressed by players toward the baseball public. In response to the question, "What is your honest opinion of the average fan?" 14 players gave favorable replies with respect to the fan as a person, while 22 gave negative replies. Four players said the fans were "nice people," 3 others said they were "pretty good persons," and a number of single comments also re flected favorable attitudes: e.g., "average, honest citi zen," "wonderful person," "great," "friendly toward play ers," and "for the team, win or lose." By contrast, 7 play ers called the average fan "front-running," a term somewhat synonymous with the more commonly heard aphorism, "fair TABLE 53 267 PLAYERS' "HONEST OPINION" OF THE AVERAGE FAN Opinion of the Fan: As a Person Frequency Favorable Nice people Pretty good persons Average, honest citizen Wonderful person Great Friendly toward players For the team, win or lose Miscellaneous single comments 4 3 1 1 1 1 1 2 14 Unfavorable Front-running 7 Fickle 4 Frustrated 2 Hard to please, expect too much 2 Loud 1 Lousy 1 Never stops to appreciate players 1 Second-guesses every move 1 Closed-minded 1 Animalistic 1 Commands no great respect 1 22 Neutral Enjoys the game 12 Typical person 4 Loyal to the home team 4 Loves his beer 1 We have to live with the fan 1 Miscellaneous single comments 7 29 268 TABLE 53--Continued Opinion of the Pan's Knowledge of Baseball: _ Critical and Favori»le Frequency Limited knowledge of the game 12 Knows nothing about the game 3 Unaware of what players feel on the field or how tough their job is 2 Pretends to know more than he does 2 Pays his money and is entitled to his opinion 2 Knows some baseball, the major phases 1 Appreciates good baseball 5 Thinks he knows everything 1 Believes everything he reads and hears, goes on the opinions of others 1^ 29 269 weather friend." Four players stated that fans are "fickle," 2 said they are "hard to please and expect too much," 2 others called them "frustrated," and some of the single comments included "closed-minded," "loud," "never stops to appreciate players," "lousy," "animalistic," "second-guesses every move," and "commands no great re spect." Twenty-nine responses were neutral with regard to the fan as a person, with 12 players simply saying the aver age fan "enjoys the game," 4 others calling him a "typical person," and 4 more noting he is "loyal to the home team." Interestingly, 1 player stated what this writer believes many felt but left unsaid, which was, "we have to live with the fan." As for the average fan's knowledge of baseball, the players' evaluations were nearly all critical. Twelve play ers claimed fans had "limited knowledge of the game," 3 said they "know nothing about the game," and 2 stated, "fans are unaware of what players feel on the field or how tough their job is." In all, 29 comments were skeptical or openly crit ical of the baseball knowledge possessed by fans, while not 1 player gave them credit for having good knowledge of the game, although 2 players said that, since fans pay their money, they are entitled to their opinions. 270 In addition to these written responses, several players volunteered comments during face-to-face interviews which are not easily set down on paper. Utilizing choice 4-letter words, they described fans in terms which left no doubt about their hostile feelings. Of course, these same players were quick to add that not all fans were this way; they especially excluded kids, whom they considered to be "great." These expressions by the players appear to be in consistent with the popular image of the relationship be tween audience and performer which management, sportswrit ers, and the players themselves seek to promote. This pop ular image may be roughly outlined in this manner: baseball players love all children, gladly devote time and energy to signing autographs and making trips to hospitals, and are impervious to the ridicule but tolerant of the advice of adult fans, whom they also love. Parts of this description are probably close to being true; players may not always "gladly" devote time and energy to autograph-signing or trips to hospitals, but they are usually willing to cooper ate with team officials in attempting to project a unified definition of the situation. It is in their best interests to do so. Thus, many players have become adept at what 271 Goffman has called "the art of impression management." Rather than act "out of character," the players respond to most demands as well as criticism with a mask of impassiv- 25 ity, at least in the "front region." However, when they are off stage, so to speak, their anger and frustration occasionally pour forth, and often the target of their vitriol is the adult fan. Interview data reveal that major leaguers view adult fans in much the same way as Howard S. Becker reports that 26 jazz musicians perceive non-musicians. In plain words, adult fans are "squares," people who lack understanding of the sport of baseball or the men who play it. They are seen as naive, uninformed and volatile, as fickle as the weather, and to be trusted accordingly. These findings lend support to Hypothesis II, which proposed that ballplayers would utilize their own colleagues as their reference group, and would consider their fellow players and others within the structure of baseball as the only ones competent to judge their performance. However, ^Goffman, Presentation of Self, pp. 167-237, et passim. ^ Outsiders; Studies in the Sociology of Deviance (New York: The Free Press, 1963), pp. 86-89. 272 it should be added that the players are not above shifting reference groups temporarily when they think it to their advantage to do so. For example, when a club official, normally the general manager, negotiates a contract with a player, often that player may point out that even though the team might not think his services are worth considerably more money, the fans do, because they have just formed a "Joe Star Fan Club," or because attendance figures rise on days when Joe Star pitches. It should be evident, though, that major leaguers would dislike leaving their fate in the hands of the fans; they would feel "nervous" about it, to say the least. The use of fan appeal is an expediency which, once its purpose is accomplished, the players quickly drop. Their reference group (and the use of the singular seems particularly appropriate since the game is such a dominant factor in the lives of the men who play it that all else becomes insignificant) is, and remains, other "pros" who know what being a major leaguer means. The Occupational Culture of the Manor League Baseball Plaver In their widely cited paper on the boxer, S. Kirson Weinberg and Henry Arond begin by pointing out that profes sional boxers are recruited from low socioeconomic families 273 and are adolescents and young men while performing their 27 occupational role. The same is true of the major league baseball player, as data reported in this and the preceding chapter have pointed out. Whereas there has been a discernible pattern of "ethnic succession" among professional boxers (e.g., Irish, Jewish, Italian, Negro, and more recently, Mexican), pro fessional baseball was dominated by white Protestants and Catholics from its beginning, although many different ethnic minorities had their moment of glory in the major leagues, albeit as minorities. Italian players in particular (e.g., Lazzeri, Crosetti, Rizutto, and DiMaggio) made quite an impact in the 1930's and 40's. Only since 1947, when Jackie Robinson became the first black man to play in the big leagues, has a significant and dramatic change in the ethnic make-up of professional baseball taken place. In contrast to most boxers, who apparently were in fluenced to become pros by a boxer in the family or the neighborhood, baseball players, according to the sample data collected here, rarely had intimate face-to-face role models ^"Occupational Culture," p. 460. This section on the major leaguer's occupational culture is deliberately patterned after the Weinberg and Arond article, which is the source of all cited data on boxers which follow. 274 to emulate; they did, however, have models who appeared to be intimate, as intimate as television and other exposure through the"mass media allow. It is perhaps significant that the Weinberg and Arond study was published in 1952 when television was in its infancy, and so were today's crop of professional boxers and ballplayers. A replication of their research today might show fewer direct family influences and might reveal a recruitment pattern more closely resembling the one suggested for the ballplayer. Just as it is a common assumption among people in boxing circles that poor and uneducated young men make the best fighters because they have few occupational alterna tives and are thus more likely to persist in their gruelling work when the going gets toughest, so do baseball oldtimers make the same assumption about boys recruited into the major leagues. The expression "a hungry ballplayer" is often heard, and it means, like the hungry fighter, someone who has no retreat, who has to play ball or to fight to live. For that reason, college-trained athletes are often labeled "soft" and lacking in desire. However, a recent move toward the expanded use of colleges as substitutes for elaborate farm systems by the major league clubs has ushered in a change in attitude, and college ballplayers no longer face 275 the prejudgment and stigma to the same degree they once did. Boxers face the same kinds of controls over their non-occupational behavior that ballplayers confront, espe cially with regard to physical conditioning. The boxer comes to regard his hands as precious commodities, and the ballplayer develops the same outlook toward his throwing arm, his eyes, or his legs, depending upon his position on a team. Thus, the boxer faces "deprivations and regulated living," and so does the ballplayer to insure alertness for the task to be accomplished. Boxers who live up to their role are often said to have a "fighting heart," and ball players who live up to theirs are called "money players," and are also said to have "heart." Hope for occupational climbing is part of the cul ture of both professional boxers and ballplayers. Boxing is full of legends of feats of great boxers of the past, just as baseball lore abounds with tales of heroes of old. Offi cials in the 2 occupations try to encourage identification by current performers with the stalwarts of yesteryear in 28 the hope that confidence and morale will be enhanced. ^Apparently boxers readily "take the role" of an esteemed ex-fighter and go so far as to copy his name, style, and movement, even to the point of sleeping in the bed he once occupied. 276 Ballplayers, however, deny any close identification with past greats. Nonetheless, during their years of almost un interrupted championships, the New York Yankees deliberately perpetuated a mystique about "wearing the pin-stripes" (a reference to the style of uniform worn by Yankee players), and consistently courted young aspiring players to sign contracts with the Yankees by evoking the names of their fabled past greats, Ruth, Gehrig, and DiMaggio. In addi tion, just as boxers are prone to superstition, so ball players have certain taboos and compulsions which are tra ditional, and, if correctly followed, are supposed to con tribute to victory and personal success. Bats should never be crossed, foul lines should never be stepped on, a menu that leads to victory 1 day should be repeated until a de feat, etc. So ballplayers, like boxers, seek their placebos where they can find them, not daring to court the fates. Confidence and emotional security can come from many sources: reliance on superstition is 1 way, identification with legendary heroes is another. Boxers are typed as "punchers," "butchers," "mil lers," "tankers," "mechanical fighters," and "smart fight ers." Ballplayers are typed too, based on their abilities to throw, hit, field, and run. Other players are quick to 277 recognize the strengths and weaknesses of an opponent, and to take advantage of them when possible. Thus, when a "punch and judy" comes to bat (one who pokes at the ball and can hit it only a short distance), the outfielders will move in; when a "butcher" is playing in the outfield (one who is a hopelessly poor fielder), baserunners will try to take an extra base on him; or when a "rabbit ears" is pitching (one who is easily intimidated by the verbal jibes and taunts of rival players), bench jockeys will go to work on him relent lessly. These are but a few of the literally hundreds of categorizations, usually expressed in eloquent slang, used to promote effective interpersonal relationships among play ers . The boxer, according to Weinberg and Arond, develops an impersonal approach to aggression, despite the intensity of the competition in which he engages. Similarly, the major leaguer retains little animosity after a game is over, even though he may have waged a bitter personal assault on an opposing player, verbally and physically, during the con test. Often, best friends off the field appear to be mortal enemies on. Baseball officials insist that this "appear ance" be maintained. Players who fraternize with members of opposing teams in public are subject to stiff fines. 278 Umpires are obliged to enforce such rules and to levy the fines when they encounter violations. Apparently there is concern that familiarity between opponents might lead the baseball public to suspect collusion under certain circum stances . Thus, to avoid any possible "incident," all public fraternization is prohibited. Whereas boxers face rather abrupt changes in their daily routines depending upon whether or not they are in training for a bout, ballplayers' lives are comparatively stable. Boxers release pent-up tensions through raucous celebration after a fight, spending money lavishly on clothes, women, gambling, and drink, but ballplayers must be more cautious after even an important success, because the following day brings a new game and challenge. Only at season's end can they indulge in wild celebration, and cer tain restraints are present even then, linked to such in tangible but nonetheless compelling variables as public image, reputation, model for youngsters, etc., which weigh much less heavily on boxers. The social structure of professional boxing and professional baseball bear some remarkable similarities, especially with respect to the stratification of performers. Boxers are ranked from the champion to about 20 leading 279 contenders at the top, followed by classes "A," "B," and "C." Baseball has its major leagues and farm clubs which descend from class "AAA" to "AA" to "A" and down to the "rookie" leagues. In terms of vertical mobility, only 7.1 per cent of a coterie of 127 boxers eventually achieved national recognition, that is, among the top 10 contenders. 29 They had been professionals for an average of 8 years. By contrast, data on professional ballplayers cited earlier indicated that only 1 of every 383 players entering pro- 30 fessional baseball ever reached the major leagues, a mea ger one-fourth of 1 per cent. But the average length of minor league apprenticeship is 3 to 4 years. Thus, aspiring young professional ballplayers have much less of a chance to become occupational leaders than aspiring young professional boxers, but those who reach the top of their profession do so in a shorter period of time. The major league ballplayer has no intimate "author ity figure" to compare with the boxer's relationship with ^Weinberg and Arond, "Occupational Culture," p. 465, followed the careers of these 127 boxers by searching the pages of Rina magazine in every issue from 1938 to 1952. The magazine lists all professional fights for every month. ■^LaPlace, "Personality," pp. 313-319. his trainer. Whereas the trainer serves as emotional secur ity for his charge, boosting his morale, compelling him to train regularly, and generally trying to instill the confi dence which is so necessary for the successful athlete, ballplayers seek such support wherever it is forthcoming. Sometimes it is the manager, who spots some small fault in a player1s swing and the mere suggestion that an adjustment might make a difference spurs the player to break out of a prolonged slump (a self-fulfilling prophecy?). At other times, a fellow-player will serve as a "confidant," listen ing to complaints, minimizing the effects of "off" days, and encouraging better all-around performance. On rare occa sions a fan will make a helpful suggestion, but players generally laugh at advice from well-meaning patrons who, they feel, are incompetent to judge their performance. Some major leaguers, especially the younger ones, maintain a close relationship with the scout who helped negotiate their original professional baseball contract. This scout then becomes the liaison between the players and other team offi cials, acting as a go-between during subsequent contract differences, offering advice to "his" players on money mat ters or problems of the heart, and generally serving as a communication link and listening post. 281 There are no detrimental effects from baseball com parable to the physical punishment boxers receive. Most retiring major leaguers are in excellent general healthy although they may have developed minor ailments, such as trick knees or a back that "pops out" now and then, which are more irritating than harmful. Many boxers, by contrast, incur serious injuries which become lifelong legacies of their ring careers. One of the tragic figures of boxing, the "washed-up" fighter who persists in competing long after his reflexes are too slow and his health in jeopardy, has only a partial counterpart in professional baseball. The old pro, the major leaguer who is "over the hill," cannot linger the way the boxer may to the point where an unscrupulous and greedy manager squeezes the last penny of profit from his body. Instead, aging baseball veterans are simply released from their contract because they are no longer productive. Some, to be sure, go back to the minor leagues for a few seasons, perhaps in the hope of landing a managing or scouting job after their good faith.and their leadership ability are demonstrated. But most simply disappear, turning to less strenuous pursuits while the accomplishments of their re cently completed career gradually "grow" in stature and 282 importance as the years slip by and memories begin to play strange tricks on the record book. Both boxing and baseball are young men's occupations and careers terminate at an early age. Also similar to what occurs to boxers after retirement, ex-major leaguers exper ience a sharp decline in status in their postplaying ca reers. Despite exorbitant claims by management and sports publicists that post-retirement opportunities for major leaguers are immeasurably superior to what would have been available if these men had never entered baseball, no com prehensive study of ex-players' subsequent careers has ever been done. Data released by the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball call attention to the illustrious accomplish ments of former big leaguers, but the selectivity is ob vious; nothing is said about the numbers of ex-players who died penniless, or who are indigents today and need contin ued support from the Professional Ballplayers Association of America, a player-supported organization created for the 31 purpose of attending to just such needs. Other writers have discussed baseball as a "springboard to a second 3lFor 1-sided examples of data on post-playing op portunities, see the privately printed information circu lated by the Office of the Commissioner of Baseball, "Base ball Alumni a Credit to the Game," pp. D-3 and D-4, 1965. 283 career," because it creates the opportunity for players to meet "influential people," or because players are still young enough after leaving the game to work energetically 32 in some other good business or profession. The implica tion is always present that they are better off for having played in the major leagues. Most of these contentions may be true, or at least true in part. But as Weinberg and Arond point out with respect to ex-pro boxers, their rapid economic descent accompanied by a corresponding loss in status frequently also means temporary or prolonged emotional difficulty in adjusting to new occupational roles. One wonders if newly retired major leaguers, excluding the super-stars who grow rich or those fortunate few who find continued employment in baseball as managers, scouts, umpires, front-office officials, or radio and television commentators, suffer fates comparable to boxers. This brief section on the culture of the major leaguer offers only a fleeting glimpse at the complex pat terns of on-going action in a baseball society. The topics covered followed seriatim those discussed by Weinberg and 32isaacs, Careers. pp. 36-38; Gregory, The Baseball Player. pp. 137-146. Arond. It should not be inferred, however, that because this was done there is any compelling equation linking boxers and ballplayers. The process was methodologically expedient and the subject matter congenial for making com parisons or analogies, but no substantive homogeneity be tween the 2 career categories has been assumed except where specifically stated. CHAPTER VI THE BLACK PLAYER Introduction Any study of major league baseball players would be inadequate without a realistic appraisal both of the impact and the important contributions made by black men. Sports officialdom would no doubt be more than a little unhappy over such a discussion, since part of the propaganda of American professional sports is that no distinctions are made among athletes on the basis of color or race and that democracy reaches its purest form on diamonds, gridirons, and courts across the country. Any attempt to differentiate players implies that, somehow, they may be receiving differ ent treatment. It is the purpose of part of this chapter to inquire whether there are differences between the treatment and opportunities of blacks and whites in the major leagues. Further, this chapter will explore some of the self-right eous claims by baseball administrators that the sport is a 285 286 model of interracial harmony. It seems appropriate to begin by providing a brief historical overview, so that present-day practices can be examined in the context of chronological progression. This section is followed by a description of the sample of black players and then an examination of how they, as well as the white players, perceive the status of the black player in baseball. Throughout the chapter, reference is made to data comparing black and white players on a variety of variables. The term "black" is used to designate both black North Americans and Latin Americans; the only time the 2 groups are distinguished is when clarity or relevancy demand it. The chapter concludes with a few speculative comments about the future for blacks in baseball. A Brief History of the Black Man in Baseball Professional baseball, referred to by people in the business as "organized ball," or "OB," probably began with the formation of the Knickerbocker Base Ball Club of New York in 1845.^ The first black men in the major leagues were 2 brothers, Moses and Welday Walker, with the Toledo ■^Danzig and Reichler, History of Baseball, p. 32. 287 Club in what was called in 1884 the American Association. During that same period, the Newark club had a black pitcher 2 on its roster. By 1887 there were about 20 black men scattered through the minor leagues. However, when 1 in fluential white, Cap Anson, manager of the celebrated White Stockings, threatened to withdraw his team from the field unless the opposing Newark club removed its "Negro" players, a precedent was established and by 1891 there were no black 3 men in professional ball. This situation prevailed for over half a century with- the exception of the so-called all- Negro leagues. The first all-black team of paid baseball players was recruited in Long Island in 1885 and they called them selves, in an effort to ease social barriers, the Cuban Giants. But the random attempts to form all-black teams were generally unsuccessful until 1920 when the Negro Na tional League was created in Kansas City. The following year a Negro Eastern League arose, and the 2 started a regu lar Negro World Series in 1924. But even these efforts were wasted when the depression wiped out the leagues. o Roeder., Jackie Robinson, p. 8. •^Allen, 100 Years of Baseball, pp. 282-283. 288 In the late 1930's the Negro American and National Leagues were formed, followed by several lesser leagues in the South. Incomes of the black players were supplemented by winter ball in Mexico, Cuba and Venezuela, where there 4 were no color barriers. However, according to the judgment of 1 writer, these all-black leagues "were hardly better than the semi-pro level of competition.""* The all-black leagues had their legendary heroes the same as the all-white leagues. Players such as shortstop John Henry Lloyd, catcher Josh Gibson (whose distant rela tive Bob Gibson now pitches for the St. Louis Cardinals), pitchers Cyclone Joe Williams and Cannonball Dick Redding, outfielder Oscar Charleston, and the inimitable and inde fatigable pitcher, Leroy (Satchel) Paige, all performed during the years between the 2 World Wars and were consid ered the greats of their race in baseball. Only Paige among all these super-stars was able to benefit when the color barriers were finally lifted, and he was well past 40 when he joined the Cleveland Indians in 1948.^ ^Turkin and Thompson, Official Encyclopedia of Base ball. p. 506. ^Roeder, Jackie Robinson, p. 31. ^Turkin and Thompson, loc. cit. 289 In 1942, with the war weakening the manpower in the white major leagues, some consideration was reluctantly given to black players who for various reasons were exempt 7 from the armed services. However, opposition quickly arose and the idea was dropped. Then in 1945, 2 black men were given tryouts with the Brooklyn Dodgers at the insistence and implicit threat of 3 sportswriters representing differ ent newspapers. Since New York state had just passed an anti-discrimination law, those who denied employment to blacks were liable to prosecution. The 2 players, however, had only fair ability, were both over 30 years old, and were 8 not hired. In October of 1945, Branch Rickey, General Manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers, signed Jackie Robinson, a young black infielder from Pasadena, California and a former col lege athlete at the University of California at Los Angeles, to a minor league contract. Robinson played at Montreal in the class AAA American Association his first season in 1946, and performed so well while leading the league in batting 7 In Gregory's book The Baseball Player, referred to in an earlier chapter, this situation might be described in his terms as "Scarcity as a Source of Value." See pp. 64- 69. Q Danzig and Reichler, History of Baseball, pp. 98-99. 290 and fielding as a second baseman that in 1947 he was brought up to the Dodgers. The St. Louis Sporting News honored Robinson by selecting him "Rookie of the Year" at the con clusion of the 1947 season, despite the fact that 5 years earlier this same publication advised against integrating baseball on the grounds that "Negroes" would be subjected to 9 too much ridicule by fans. The color line had finally been broken. Before the 1947 season ended Cleveland had signed outfielder Larry Doby to a contract and other teams were forced to follow if they hoped to avoid charges of dis crimination on 1 hand, and a gradually increasing talent gap on the other. ^ Today, every major league team has at least several black players, and some have as much as half their roster of 25 made up of North American and/or Latin American black men.^ Description of the Sample Nine black North Americans and 6 black Latin Americans were among the 7 3 players who completed ^Ibid., pp. 99-100. ^■^Young, Negro Firsts in Sports, p. 207. For a com plete listing of Negro firsts in baseball up to 1963, see pp. 206-224. Baseball Roundup 1967," Ebony, June, 1967, pp. 128-139. 291 12 questionnaires. Expressed in percentages, there were 12.3 per cent black North Americans, 8.2 per cent black Latins, and 79.5 per cent whites. Together, blacks made up 20.5 per cent of the sample. These figures compare closely with data based on the total number of players on major league rosters 13 on opening day of the 1967 baseball season: (N= 19.6X- =570) Rosters (N=7 3) 1965 Samole Nq , % No. % All blacks 127 22.3 15 20.5 North Americans only 80 14.0 9 12.3 Latins only 47 8.2 6 8.2 It can be seen that the proportion of blacks to whites in the sample used for this research is almost identical to the proportion on major league rosters at the start of the 1967 1 P Latin Americans, of course, may or may not be "Negroes," depending upon their ancestry. Generally, how ever, the poor or working class Latin male is descended from black-skinned people, and professional baseball players usu ally fit into this category. ^3"Baseball Roundup 1967," pp. 128-139. The most recent figures were quoted for mid-season 1968 on the CBS television show "Of Black America," Wednesday, July 30, 1968, 10:00 P.M., on Channel 2, Los Angeles. It was stated that 34 per cent of all major leaguers (Latins were not mentioned specifically) were black. baseball season. It was stated earlier that the ages of the blacTc players averaged nearly the same as those of whites, just over 26 years (see Table 1 for exact figures). The numbers of black players in the sample are so small that in many instances percentage distributions are meaningless. Raw scores have been used for the most part, with percentages supplied occasionally when comparisons with data on whites are required. With regard to education, Table 54 shows that only 1 black, a Latin, graduated from college, and 4 of the 15 sampled had attended some college. Two failed to graduate from high school, the only 2 in the total sample of 73, which means that all the white players completed at least a high school education. It can be seen by comparing Tables 5 and 54 that white players generally are slightly better educated, or at any rate have spent more years in school, than black players. Calculation of the average number of years of school for both categories yields these figures: Average Number of Years of School Whites Blacks 13 . 5 12 .1 Table 55 reveals some interesting data when compared 293 TABLE 54 EDUCATION OF BLACK PLAYERS Education Latin Americans Black North Americans Totals Per Cent Less than high school 1 1 2 13.3 High school graduate 2 6 8 53.3 Some college (under 2 years) 1 1 2 13.3 2 years college 0 1 1 6.7 3 years college 0 0 0 0.0 College graduate 1 0 1 6.7 Master 1s degree 0 0 0 0.0 No answer 1 0 1 6.7 Totals 6 9 15 100.0 294 TABLE 55 EDUCATION OF PARENTS OF BLACK PLAYERS Education Parents of Latin Americans Parents of Black North Americans Totals Per Cent Less than high school 3 4 7 23 High school graduate 5 8 13 43 Some college (under 2 years) 0 0 0 0 2 years college 0 0 0 0 3 years college 0 0 0 0 College graduate 3 2 5 17 Master's degree 0 0 0 0 No answer or do not know 1 4 5 17 Totals 12 18 30 100 with the findings in Table 6. Surprisingly, more of the parents of black players, proportionately, finished high school and earned college degrees than did the parents of white players. One immediate, plausible explanation for this comes to mind: the 3 Latin players who are listed as having parents with college degrees responded to the ques tion by writing the word "colegio," which does mean college when translated literally into English but is frequently used in Latin countries to refer to the equivalent of high school in the United States. These data, then, in addition to containing so few cases, raise other questions as well and must be interpreted cautiously to say the least. In deed, the Latin American player, despite his categorization as "blood" by black North Americans, is in many ways a unique person with values, background, and behavior patterns quite different from those of the home-grown major leaguer, black or white. His development is a sociological story that merits separate attention beyond the more general dis cussion presented here. With regard to perceived social class, Table 56 shows that blacks differ l.ittle from whites. They see them selves, in general, as having middle- and upper-middle-class status while their parents are assigned a notch lower to TABLE 56 PLAYERS' PERCEIVED SOCIAL CLASS, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category Social Class Category No Answer Totals Working Class Middle Class Upper-Middle Class Upper Class White North American Family 26 20 10 1 1 58 Self 6 30 16 3 3 58 Latin American Family 2 3 1 0 0 6 Self 1 1 3 0 1 6 Black North American Family 4 4 0 0 1 9 Self 0 4 1 1 3 9 Totals Family 32 27 11 1 2 73 Self 7 35 20 4 7 73 ro a\ 297 working- or middle-class status. Referring to Table 9, it can be observed that not 1 black player perceived himself as having moved downward in social class, while 7 of the 11 who answered the question thought they had moved up 1 or 2 ranks. Other descriptive data on black players differ lit tle from figures already reported for the sample as a whole. Occupations of fathers were distributed about the same, with perhaps slightly greater incidence of laborers on 1 extreme of the scale and public school teachers near the other. Latin players all listed winter baseball as their off-season occupation, although not all of them play every winter, choosing instead to stay in the United States and try to find employment that might become permanent when their ca reers begin to wane. North American blacks displayed a variety of winter jobs, ranging from selling cars to per forming in night clubs. The black ballplayer, then, is not very different, in terms of demographic characteristics, from his white colleague. He is approximately the same age. He has had slightly less formal schooling, but it has not affected his perceptions of his social class which, like whites, is seen as middle or upper-middle. His parents were probably 298 struggling to make a living when he was a boy, and his father was likely to have been a semi-skilled or unskilled laborer, or perhaps in a few cases, a public school teacher. The black players' interest in politics, their morality, and their use of free time also merit attention. Table 16 shows that blacks are more likely to think the government should do more than it is doing to combat social problems than whites. Four of the 9 North American blacks in the sample felt the government "doesn't do enough." Table 17 reports that "going too slow" and "waste, bureauc racy and mis-direction" are the reasons given by blacks for their criticism of the government. Table 19 reveals that only 3 of 8 eligible black players voted in the 1964 elec tions, and all were Democrats. Even among those who did not, or could not, vote, none claimed either affiliation with or leanings toward the Republican Party. The propor tion of blacks who voted is nearly identical with that of whites (see Table 20). With respect to moral values, blacks and whites responded about the same. Both groups were found to drink moderately, gamble for money occasionally, and view drinking and gambling as "sometimes wrong" if indulged in excessively, "never wrong" if done in moderation (see Tables 27 and 28; these tables do not reflect separate choices of 299 blacks and whites because the differences were insignificant between them). Black players are similar to whites, it seems, in many of their values and patterns of behavior as private citizens in addition to their demographic characteristics. How, then, do these men who are not very different in their social class origins from whites, nor in their current occu pational status, nor in their values, beliefs, and patterns of behavior, fare in their interpersonal relationships with their white teammates and white employers? What do whites and blacks think of each other as co-workers, and how do they behave toward one another? Hypothesis X proposes a partial answer; do the data support the hypothesis? How Blacks and Whites See Each Other It was stated earlier that approximately 1 out of every 5 major leaguers is either a black North American or Latin American. Sportswriter Charles Maher on the staff of the Los Angeles Times recently completed a series of arti cles on the "Negro" athlete (he excluded Latin Americans on the irrelevant premise that it is difficult to distinguish those who are part Negro from those who are not) . His work pointed out that North American Negro major leaguers account 300 for 33.75 per cent of the starting line-ups, excluding pitchers, in the National League and 21,25 per cent in the 14 American League. This disproportionate number indicates, to Maher, that sports (and he makes a convincing case for professional football as well as basketball, with statistics on the latter revealing 51 per cent of all players to be black) make up a social world "where blacks are just a little more equal." They are, he points out, not only over represented in proportion to their numbers in the general population but they gather the bulk of honors and awards for 15 excellence m performance. Without disputing the statistics cited, which have important implications beyond the simple and obvious inter pretations made by Mr. Maher, it seems much more to the point to inquire about the dynamics of human interaction that go on during a typical work day in the major leagues. 14iiThe Negro Athlete in America," Los Angeles Times. March 24, 1968, Sec. D, pp. 1 and 8. Maher notes that if Latin Americans had been included the percentages would have been appreciably higher. •^According to U. S. Bureau of the Census data, blacks make up about 11 per cent of the population, a figure that has remained nearly constant since 1900. See Current Population Reports. Series P-23, No. 24, "Social and Eco nomic Conditions of Negroes in the United States" (Washing ton, D. C.: Government Printing Office, October, 1967), p. 3. 301 A black man may win a batting title or play alongside more of his black brothers than his numbers in the total popula tion might normally indicate,'1 ' 6 and these 1 1 accomplishments" might make him, in the eyes of some, "more equal." But if he has just been overlooked for a high-paying endorsement in favor of a white player with a batting average 30 points lower, or if he always works for a white boss and never a black one, these are kinds of "inequality" that do not show up in the statistics. To test Hypothesis X, 3 questions were asked: (1) What do you think white ballplayers in general feel about playing alongside Negro and Latin players? (2) Do you feel that Negro and Latin players are treated differently because of race or nationality than white or United States players are treated? If so, in what ways? (3) With regard to your free time, if you had your choice of anyone on the club to spend free time with, whom would you choose? (first and second choices). The responses to number (1) above were placed into ^In previously cited research by Aaron Rosenblatt, it was pointed out that even though black players had higher batting averages than white players, mediocre blacks were much less likely to play regularly than equally mediocre whites. See "Negroes in Baseball," pp. 51-53. 302 3 categories: positive feelings, negative feelings, and feelings which expressed tolerance or tacit acceptance. As Table 57 indicates, the largest number of respondents (41) unequivocally insisted that no ill feelings of any sort ex isted. In fact, 3 players volunteered the opinion that baseball was an example or model for other walks of life in race relations. However, the 19 negative comments represent far too many to be discounted as exceptions. The following examples of specific complaints are revealing; the numbers in parentheses represent the frequency of particular re sponses. The W and B represent white or black respondents. 1. On the field they (Negro and Latin American players) are treated equally and judged on ability, but off the field there is prejudice (3). (W=2, B=l) 2. There are team problems and dissension, but it is not publicly known (2). (W) 3. Feelings of prejudice exist. Members of other races are tolerated just so long as they perform efficiently and help the team win (2). (W=l, B=l) 4. They are individualists, not team players (1). (W) 5. They do not like to get thrown at as much as whites (1). (W) TABLE 57 WHITE PLAYERS’ FEELINGS ABOUT PLAYING ALONGSIDE BLACK PLAYERS Perceived by Feelings White North Americans Black North Americans Latins Totals Positive No ill feelings whatsoever; no problems or discrimination 35 0 3 38 Baseball is a model or example in race relations 3 0 0 3 Totals 38 0 3 41 Necrative Feelings of prejudice and problems of dissension exist but are kept from the public 9 2 1 12 (Specific complaints by whites; see text) 7 0 0 7 Totals 16 2 1 19 O u> TABLE 57 — Continued Feelings Perceived by Totals White North Americans Black North Americans Latins Tolerance or tacit acceptance Whites accept it 5 0 1 6 Respect is based on talent and personality, not on race 3 1 0 4 Differentiation but no animosity 3 0 1 4 Totals 11 1 2 14 oj o 305 6. They lack intestinal fortitude (1). (W) 7. They become lazy and serene (1). (W) 8. They become glory happy (1). (W) Equally revealing, of course, are the strongly worded favor able comments: 1. Players are judged on ability alone (6), 2. There is no discrimination. All are treated equally (16). It is interesting that 3 Latin American players responded favorably without reservation, but 1 black North American flatly stated that a quota system existed, while representa tives of both groups cited money as being a more important factor than race, e.g., "They don't care who they play with so long as they get paid." With respect to a quota system, a scout made the comment during an interview that his team was looking for a good white outfielder because they had enough "colored" players. If any more were signed to contracts and then reached the major leagues, white fans would stop coming to ^ 17>18 the games. 7 17 This is a frequently spoken but seldom published statement. An exception can be found in Boyle, Sport— Mirror of American Life, p. 131, • * - 8Rosenblatt, "Negroes in Baseball," pp. 51-53, 306 The second question, which asked about differential treatment of Negro and Latin players, yielded 42 "no" re sponses and 29 "yes" responses. Again, it appears that this division is too marked to indicate harmonious race and eth nic relations to the extent that popular writings portray them. Table 58 gives the specific kinds of treatment judged to be different; the responses are divided by racial cate gory. The most frequent complaint was against general discrimination, especially in the South, in some hotels, and during spring training, but not necessarily against other players. Four whites, however, were disturbed by what they saw as favoritism shown to blacks by management. This same comment was made by several coaches during interviews, with a clear implication that Latin players in particular were so temperamental that they had to be "handled" differently. Three players, including 2 blacks, stated that op portunities to make money outside of baseball, on endorse ments, testimonials, or simply to secure good off-season 19 jobs, were fewer for black players. It should be noted, makes a similar contention regarding a quota system. ^Other writers have reported the same or similar complaints: Cf. Boyle, Sport— Mirror of American Life, p. 129; Robinson, Baseball Has Done It. passim. TABLE 58 PERCEPTION OF DIFFERENTIAL TREATMENT OF BLACK PLAYERS, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY AND TYPE OF TREATMENT Type of Differential Treatment Yes, They Are Treated Differently, According to: Totals White North Black North Americans Americans Latin Americans No type given 3 0 1 4 Fewer opportunities outside baseball (e.g., fewer endorsements) 1 2 0 3 Treated with less respect 2 0 0 2 Shown favoritism 4 0 0 4 Taken advantaae of on and off the field 1 0 0 1 In subtle ways 2 0 0 2 General discrimination, in hotels, in the South, during spring training (not necessarily by players) 7 1 1 9 u> o Vj TABLE 58— Continued Type of Differential Treatment Yes, They Are Treated Differently, According to: Totals White North Americans Black North Americans Latin Americans a Miscellaneous complaints 2 2 0 4 Totals 22 5 2 29 No, They Are Not Treated Differently, According to: White North Americans Black North Americans Latin Americans 1 Totals Totals 35 3 4 42 aComplaints include, e.g., "Harassed more by fans," "No future comparable to whites after retirement," and "Brushed back and hit by pitches more often." o 00 309 however, that as many black players (7) said they were not treated differently as said they were. The third question dealing with a choice of a free time partner revealed a significant pattern of association. Table 59 reflects the overwhelming preference by most play ers for spending their leisure time with others of the same ethnic or racial category. Only 1 white player said he pre ferred a black, and that was a second choice. By contrast, there were several cross-ethnic as well as cross-racial choices both by black Latins and black North Americans. During a discussion of this problem, 1 public rela tions representative stated, "Negro and Latin players segre gate themselves. Ask them,1 1 he urged, "why they keep to themselves all the time. They prefer it that way, that's 20 all." One player offered the suggestion that "Negro" and Latin players were good guys, nothing was wrong with them, "but I just don't have anything in common with most of them." He felt that Negroes and Latins would feel funny about being invited to a white player's house anyway. pn ^See the very interesting corroboration of this view in Boyle, Snort— Mirror of American Life, p. 126. He reports that whites are more likely to accept invitations from blacks than the reverse. A certain mistrust and sus picion about the motives of whites are suggested as reasons for this phenomenon. 310 TABLE 59 PLAYERS' CHOICES OF FREE-TIME PARTNERS, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Categories First Choice Second Choice Players chose same race or ethnic category 37 28 White North American chose black North American 0 1 White North American chose Latin 0 1 Latin chose black North American 1 2 Black North American chose Latin 0 3 Latin chose white North American 2 1 Black North American chose white North American 0 2 Players expressing no preference 4 0 Players preferring to be alone 6 0 Players claiming to be friends with everyone 2 . 0 Totals 52 38 311 All these comments, and the significant tendencies to maintain social distance revealed by the data would ap pear to lend support to the hypothesis that racial and eth nic equality in baseball is far from the democratic ideal 21 popular writings lead us to believe. A further example of the existence of a profound degree of social distance among the races in major league baseball is demonstrated in Table 60, which reports on room- 22 mate assignments while the teams are on the road. Cross tabulated by ethnic/racial category, it can be seen that no whites and black North Americans roomed together. Only 2 whites claimed Latins as room partners. Equally revealing 21it is recognized that discrimination is not always undemocratic. Sociologists have differentiated among 3 types of discriminatory exclusion: "approved," which is practiced by nearly everyone (e.g., selection of congenial associates); "contested," which is bitterly resented by those against whom it operates (e.g., club or fraternity selectivity); and "illegal," which violates the law (e.g., segregating public schools). See Lundberg, et al.. Sociol ogy. pp. 338-339. ^Professor Emory S. Bogardus, who pioneered in the study of social distance, considers racial distance a par ticular kind of social distance. Even though he has defined social distance as "the degree of sympathetic understanding between people," he has measured it by asking questions such as: "Would you have a member of 'X' group as a next door neighbor?" Roommate preference would seem to be an equally valid measure. For a thorough discussion of this subject, see Professor Bogardus' book, Social Distance, esp. pp. 7 and 31. 312 TABLE 60 ROOMMATE ASSIGNMENTS WHILE TEAMS ARE ON THE ROAD, BY ETHNIC CATEGORY Ethnic Category Roommate Assignments White Black North North American American Latin American Totals White North American with: 43 0 2 45 Black North American with: 0 6 1 7 Latin American with: 0 0 4 4 No roommate, room alone: 2 3 0 5 No answer 10 0 2 12 N=73 313 is the fact that 3 blacks roomed alone compared with only 2 whites, an improbable chance imbalance in proportion to their respective numbers in the sample. Despite this abundance of evidence showing the al most total separation of blacks and whites in some areas of their occupational and social milieu, Table 38 (cited in an earlier chapter) shows that both black North American and black Latin American players expressed proportionately greater happiness with their profession than did white play ers, with 9 of 15 insisting they were "very happy." How ever, conversely, of the 2 players who claimed to be fairly unhappy, 1 was a black North American and the other a black Latin. Trends and Predictions Professional baseball has come along way since Jackie Robinson became a cause celebre in 1947. Then, ac cording to 1 account: Before he established himself he would receive threats of being shot in Philadelphia and of varied forms of violence in other cities; he would be barred from some restaurants where his teammates ate, he and his wife would ride alone on spring training trips and he would stand alone as the grievance in a purported strike of National League players. Even two years after his debut in the majors, the Ku Klux Klan would question the legality 314 of his play alongside whites in spring exhibition games in Atlanta.*^ No reasonably informed people today question the legality of blacks and whites playing together, but a man's life does not end when he leaves the ballpark. To be sure, fame and fortune open some doors that otherwise would remain closed, and major league ballplayers do enjoy innumerable perquisites as a result of their status. But just as cer tain negative consequences accrue to whites, so blacks suf fer from job-related inequities off the playing field. For example, in 1963 a young infielder, Ritchie Allen, now a star for tile Philadelphia Phillies, became the first black man to play on an integrated team in Little Rock, Arkansas. Progress, most people would agree, had been made occupa tionally. But after the game, when he had to walk the streets and attempt to carry on normal daily activities, his life was filled with misery. As he put it: I felt different down there. It was as if I wasn't a human being. I couldn't go here and I couldn't go there. I burned up on the inside and I had so many things on my mind that I’m surprised that I P ^ JDanzig and Reichler, History of Baseball, pp. 98- 99. Threats are by no means confined to blacks, however. For a discussion of attempts at extortion and threats against whites, see Gregory, The Baseball Player, pp. 121- 122. Of course, that was 1963, and. it was in the South. In 1964 Jackie Robinson published the results of interviews he conducted with several black baseball stars. Practically every one complained about segregation during spring training, a lack of endorsement opportunities for their race, and inequitable payroll practices. In addition, several mentioned that black players are subjected to knockdown pitches more frequently. All agreed, however, that as a vocation for black men, baseball is superior to 25 any other . In 1965, when the data presented here were gathered, the majority of ballplayers sampled saw few if any problems existing between blacks and whites. Several players ad mitted there were lingering prejudices, and some even pointed out examples of discriminatory practices, but a number of the blacks themselves testified that equality was, if not total, then nearly so. One highly publicized black star wrote this: "I don’t mind playing with anyone, because being a negra fsic 1 we were held back for so many years. ^Allen Lewis, "Rookie in Little Rock," Sporting News. May 24, 1964, pp. 3-4. ^Robinson, Baseball Has Done It. passim. 316 26 Times are changing and things are better." Times indeed are changing? 1965 was better than 1963, which in turn was better than 1947. But the very fact that substantial un equal opportunity and discriminatory treatment continue to persist in organized sports is an affront to the dignity of all men, white and black, and an indictment which probes at the most basic values and ideals we purport to hold dear in our social system. What of 1968 and beyond? In 1968 the winds of change, to use an old but ap propriate cliche, seem to be reaching gale force. It is certainly true, as sociologist J. Milton Yinger has ob served, that the consequences of integration in sports "reach far beyond the sports arena. There are dozens of stars with whom Negro boys can identify; there is a quicken ing of pride? there is an increase in equalitarian con- ^These comments were volunteered, in writing, on the back of the questionnaire. ^"Desegregation j,n American Society," p. 443. But these same consequences are being felt elsewhere. Black militancy is extending beyond civil rights in schools, hous ing, and conventional employment and into the field of pro fessional and amateur sports. There was an incident involv ing black athletes at the 1968 summer Olympic Games in Mexi co City? strikes and threats of strikes by black athletes have occurred on college campuses in protest over alleged racism by coaches and staff? and recently several black 317 It may also be true, as 1 journalist (a black man, incidentally) recently commented, that "For Negro athletes 28 in America, this is the Golden era, the halcyon day." Most certainly it is. in terms purely of participation and relative .to earlier times in history. A well-known writer of sports fiction, John R. Tunis, declared that in 10 to 15 years the American sports scene will be "dominated by Negro 29 . . . and Puerto Rican athletes." Tunis is indeed correct, but major league baseball players have spoken out about what they consider to be mistreatment by management. During the month of July, 1968, Sports Illustrated ran a 5-part series of articles entitled "The Black Athlete — A Shameful Story," written by senior editor Jack Olsen. The series is, in this writer's opinion, without question the most honest, frank, and truthful report ever made on a predicament which should have been publicized and corrected long ago. In an editorial introduction to the series, these comments of particular relevancy were made: "Sport has long been comfortable in its pride at being one of the few areas of American society in which the Negro has found opportunity — and equality. But has sport in America deceived itself? Is its liberality a myth, its tolerance a deceit? Increas ingly, black athletes are saying that sport is doing a dis service to their race by setting up false goals, perpetuat ing prejudice and establishing an insidious bondage all its won. Now, when Negro athletes are shaking numerous college administrations with their demands and a boycott of the 1968 Olympics is no idle threat, Sports Illustrated explores the roots and validity of the black athlete's unrest— and finds them well founded." July 1, 1968, p. 12. O Q Young, Negro Firsts in Sports, p. 4. 29"Laugh Off $11 Million?" The New Republic. Janu ary 2, 1965, pp. 11-12. 318 conservative. The domination he spoke of has arrived, but there is increasing evidence that it exists in terms of numbers of athletes and honors won only. Leadership and management are still controlled almost exclusively by whites, and big bonuses for young, untried players are al most always given to whites. In an unpublished paper read before a meeting of professional sociologists, this writer suggested that sports might be looked upon as a microcosm of the larger American society with respect to race relations. Jackie Robinson's training, at the hands of Branch Rickey, in the techniques of non-retaliation in the face of insults and abuse can be compared with the use of non-violence early in the civil rights movement. Robinson's later explosions also can be 30 likened to the increasing militancy of blacks as a whole. Such analogies, however, even when they prove to be predictive of one another, merely call attention to social realities. Social action must be initiated if change is to ■^Harold Charnofsky, "The Negro in Professional Baseball: Prologue to Social Change" (paper read at annual meetings of the Pacific Sociological Association, Salt Lake City, Utah, April, 1965). Others have recognized the anal ogy between blacks in sports and in the general milieu. See John P. Davis, ed., The American Nearo Reference Book (Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1966), p. 795 . 319 be accomplished, whether the object of the change is a microcosm or a macrocosm. The data presented in this chapter demonstrate rather forcefully that racial inequality in major league baseball is a persistent phenomenon despite disclaimers by the men and interests which control the sport. In addition, separation of blacks and whites off the playing field is a common occurrence and indicates the existence of substantial social distance between the races, if not open animosity. These circumstances are the ones most often obscured or denied in popular baseball literature, which tries to per petuate, with almost fearful doggedness, a picture of inter racial harmony and racial equality of opportunity in the sport of baseball. Baseball has indeed opened its doors to black players? unfortunately, the doors are only partially open, but black players are sufficiently satisfied with their often handsome salaries that organized opposition to persistent exclusionary practices and inequities has not yet materialized. CHAPTER VII SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS Introduction In this chapter, in addition to summarizing the findings and reaching conclusions about the several hypoth eses which were tested, an attempt is made to construct an ideal typology for the occupational role of the major league baseball player. Ideas for further research are offered and the shortcomings of this work are explored. The Appendix, and the study, conclude with a few remarks about profes sional baseball as an American institution and the role of the player as the skillful celebrity who makes it function. A Summary of Findings The purpose of this dissertation was, on 1 hand, to gather data appropriate for testing a number of hypotheses about occupations with clearly defined rights, duties, and role expectations, and on the other, to develop a taxonomy 320 321 for describing the behavior, public and private, of per formers in a highly specialized and rarely studied occupa tion, that of major league baseball player. Selected hy potheses concerning the latter were also proposed and tested. Using a sample consisting of approximately 15 per cent of all active major leaguers during the 1965 baseball season (N=73), questionnaire and interview data were col lected from members of 5 different teams. The emphasis was on the players' own perceptions of their occupational role, although a good deal of the information gathered related directly to observable occupational norms and components of social structure. Whereas it was hypothesized that actors in an occu pational role that had the characteristics of a determinate status would define their work as an end in itself and would see their long-range future goals as inseparable from their present situation, the data show that many players place extraordinary emphasis on instrumental values such as the amount of money to be made, the opportunity available to make contacts which would provide business opportunities after retirement from baseball, and the importance of pre paring for another career both before entering, and during, 322 their roles as major leaguers. It appears, then, that this hypothesis is not supported in the case of the major league baseball player, although the data are by no means all 1- sided, and reveal considerable consummatory interest such as love of the activity itself, the challenges and intrinsic rewards it offers, and the prestige and recognition to be derived. The second hypothesis proposed that these same ac tors in occupations with determinate status would use fellow role-incumbents as their reference group, would consider their colleagues the primary ones competent to judge their performance, would limit their reference group to this one exclusively, and would not change reference groups during their occupational career. The data in general support all but the last proposition. Baseball players do, in fact, set and maintain standards based on the values of their peers; they do look with a certain amount of disdain upon the opinions of fans and other laymen who have the temerity to make pronouncements about their occupation; they do tend to eschew the norms and behavior patterns of other occupational or social groups, at least until late in their baseball careers; but since their occupation is at best a decade and a half long, and more likely to be much shorter, the older 323 players tend to begin shifting reference groups as their careers in baseball draw to a close, except for those who anticipate remaining in the sport as coaches, scouts, mana gers, or administrative personnel. The third hypothesis stated that occupational mobil ity of performers in occupations with determinate status would be generally horizontal compared with their fathers' occupational status, but that vertically mobile individuals would more likely move upwards than downwards at the time of entry into the labor force. Since no existing occupa tional prestige scale ranks the major league baseball player, the data collected rely on the players' perceptions of their intergenerational mobility. Another problem is the fact that no information was gathered about the relative occupa tional prestige of minor league baseball as the players evaluated it, and the minor leagues are, of course, where most players enter the labor force. With these limitations in mind, a cautious generalization may be made that more players view themselves as having advanced beyond the social class of their parents once they reach the major leagues than view themselves as still in the same social class. Other data, however, reveal that whereas most of the fathers of the players were in the working class and engaged in 324 skilled, semi-skilled, and unskilled labor while the players were growing up, the players themselves, when compared with the prestige ranking of others in entertainment fields, probably merit a considerably higher occupational ranking than that of their fathers. The second part of the hypothe sis, that vertically mobile players will be more likely to move up than down on the occupational prestige ladder, is unquestionably supported both on the basis of the players 1 own perceptions of their newly acquired social class and on the assumption that being a major league baseball player is higher than being a worker. The fourth hypothesis anticipated career stability, continuous employment, and a consistent occupational status for determinate occupations. In the case of the major league baseball player, the hypothesis is not supported. The typical player's career is anything but stable, as he is shifted from team to team, benched, or sent back to the minors according to the needs of management. Occupational status suffers accordingly, and is certainly not consistent. It varies with the player's performance each new season, and may be categorically terminated if management decides it no longer has need for the employee's services. In addition, interruptions in the form of injury or illness, and certain 325 uncontrollable occurrences such as loss of fan appeal may conspire to interfere with, and sometimes ruin, a player's career. Contradictions characterize the findings relating to the fifth hypothesis, which made the claim that major league baseball players in particular, by virtue of their involvement in a traditional, highly competitive, and ex tremely individualistic occupation firmly entrenched as a typically American institution with all the values that implies, would be inclined to pronounce as well as practice the major tenets of the Protestant Ethic. On some matters, the players do indeed appear to support the hypothesis. On other matters, however, the evidence is either unclear or "unpuritanical" and therefore not supportive of the hypothe sis. Further exploration of the meanings and implications of the Protestant Ethic and its relationship with sports seems appropriate before summary comments about this sample of major league baseball players are made. In a recent paper on sport and culture, Gunter Luschen, a German sociologist from Bremen and currently visiting professor at the University of Illinois, suggests that sport and Protestantism share the same values of achievement and asceticism. He cites comparative data on 326 the religious preferences of Olympic medal winners up to 1960 and reports that Protestantism accounts for more than 50 per cent, while its ratio among the world's population is less than 8 per cent. Further, Protestants are overrepre sented in West Germany, according to Luschen's 1958 survey. He concludes that Protestants participate in individual sports more than Catholics, while the latter lean toward team sports. He says, "Max Weber's findings about the rela tionship between the Protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism may thus well be extended to the 'spirit' of sport." ^ Despite these and similar findings, however, Liischen is not satisfied with what he considers to be too simple a relationship. He calls it "theoretically insufficient," even though supported by data. Instead, he hypothesizes that a more general value system links Protestantism, capi talism, and sport, the same general system proposed by David 2 3 McClelland; i.e., achievement orientation. 9 •^•"The Interdependence of Sport and Culture" (paper read at the national meeting of the American Association of Health, Physical Education and Recreation, Las Vegas, 1967), pp. 6-7. 2Ibid., pp. 7-8. •^David C. McClelland, The Achieving Society (New York: Van Nostrand, 1961). 327 Again drawing on cross-cultural comparison data, Luschen points out that in all societies that participate and perform strongly in sports, correspondingly strong achievement orientation is basic. In this way, he explains the athletic successes of non-Protestant nations or peoples such as Russia, Poland, Japan, the Mandan Indians, the Sikhs in India, and the Watusi in Africa, all of whom emphasize achievement as a means to social status. He summarizes his thesis by saying that any system of sport is a part of the larger sociocultural system of a society and seems to depend on industrialization, technology, or the Protestant ethic for its vitality. However, a more general system is needed to explain sports success than these 3 variables, and such a system includes the achievement value of a culture or sub-culture.^ Relating this interesting hypothesis to the major league baseball player, it is apparent that the United States is an achievement-oriented society and the ballplayer cannot help but be infused with its basic values. In addi tion, this country is industrialized, highly technological, and predominantly Protestant. Sports flourish here on all ^Luschen, "Interdependence of Sport and Culture," pp. 8 and 14. 328 social levels, and participation ranges from the most highly skilled professionals to the rankest amateurs. One writer describes it this way: Sport permeates any number of levels of contem porary society, and it touches upon and even deeply influences such disparate elements as status, race relations, business life, automotive design, clothing styles, the concept of the hero, language, and ethi cal values. For better or worse, it gives form and substance to much in American life. . . . The New York Times . . . devotes more daily space to sport than it does to art, books, education, television, and the theater combined.^ With this pervasive influence of sport, exerting pressures on most Americans practically from cradle to grave, there would appear to be little doubt that profes sional athletes acquire certain role expectations, often verging on caricature. They are expected to epitomize America's dominant values. Strong, rugged, fearless, they are America's heroes, rising by dint of hard work, talent, and persistence. In a witty and caustic commentary on the American hero, Leo Gurko has written: The accent has been on muscle over mind, instinct instead of brain, impulsiveness at the expense of reflectiveness. . . . The idealized American male C '■'Boyle, Sport— Mirror of American Life, pp. 3-4. 329 has leaned strongly in the direction of brawn and egotism. Rugged individualism has been his dominant motif. . . . He has tended to be cocky, boastful and aggressive, and has seldom been projected into situ ations requiring anything more from him than a phys ical response.8 Similarly, Orrin E. Klapp suggests that there are some heroes not strictly in show business, who play so hard at a sport or recreation that they find their way into the limelight consistently and become drawing cards, even headliners. Let us call them heroes of play. This includes athletes, ama teur or professional.^ He then goes on to explain that these play heroes, in his judgment, are gradually replacing the work heroes (e.g., Franklin, Carnegie, and Edison) who once captured the na- 8 tional consciousness. These elaborations on the theme of athlete-hero and the American ethos of individualistic achievement are in troduced to lend support to the notion that the popular image of the major league baseball player reflects much that America holds dear. ^Heroes. Highbrows & the Popular Mind (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, Inc., Charter Books, 1953), p. 168. ^Heroes. Villains, and Fools (Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, Inc., a Spectrum Book, 1962), p. 36. 8Ibid.. pp. 101-102. 330 Returning to the findings of this study, it can be said once again that major league ballplayers are inconsis tent with regard to adherence to the Protestant Ethic. A small percentage (17.3) believe that government interferes too much with local politics and that individuals should help themselves rather than receive so much support from other sources. By contrast, however, most players feel that the government is either doing what it should or is not doing enough to help solve social problems. In addition, the players are not very opinionated about social issues (28 per cent felt unqualified to make a judgment about the proper role of government, and 41 of 75 responses claimed inability or unwillingness to account for their views about government). One statistic that coincides with Luschen's data is the disproportionate number of Catholics in the major leagues compared with Protestants. Since baseball is a team sport, if Luschen's views are accurate fewer Protestants should be participants. Since this .is the case, it would lead to the conclusion that baseball, which stresses team cooperation above individual performance, is a poor example of the Protestant Ethic. However, baseball is a unique team sport. It is highly individualistic, with the batter "on 331 his own" facing a pitcher who is equally self-reliant up to a point. Even when the services of a teammate are required, any failure to complete a play is clearly and unmistakably attributed to 1 player or another and the guiltless party is absolved completely. Further, hero and goat roles are freely assigned, and in general individual responsibility for winning and losing precisely affixed. Thus, the very nature of baseball as a game tends to link it with those ethical virtues so often associated with our ethos: compe tition, individualism, initiative, self-discipline, re sponsibility, and hard work. Other evidence reveals that ballplayers are not avid church-goers, but profess to believe in God and to live according to His teachings. They readily affiliate with some organized religion, at least nominally. Their occupa tion, cognizant of its public and the need to maintain a certain image before that public, is careful to display the trappings of religion and patriotism whenever possible. The American flag, the national anthem, prayer, all appear with regularity at ballparks across the nation. These symbols of faith, honor, and piety closely relate to the Protestant Ethic, and the major leaguer cannot avoid being suffused by them. 332 The ballplayer gambles on cards and horses more than the average citizen, and probably drinks more often, if not more. Yet he believes that these forms of entertainment should be moderately indulged in, especially when the in dulgent cannot afford the consequences. This is, again, a variation on the ethic of individual responsibility. Perhaps the most persuasive evidence in support of the hypothesis is the view, held by most players, that a high-risk job with brief tenure is acceptable. They felt that "players should prepare for retirement, make wise in vestments, plan for the future,1 1 that "we have to work hard, to make it while we can, to run risks for the chance for big money, a big reward," and that "the 'game' opens doors for the future." . Interestingly, the players did not agree with con cepts that linked them with players of the legendary past or in any way identified them as heroic and above the average man. Yet their behavior belied this denial, especially their disdain for the fan and their opinions that they, as major league baseball players, contributed importantly to the entertainment of adults and served as idols and models for children. A final bit of evidence can be seen in the ethic of 333 deferred gratification, so often cited as a characteristic 9 of Protestantism. This ethic is built into the system of professional baseball, with its extensive farm club networks and elaborate patterns of recruitment as well as demotion. The player who eventually reaches the major leagues is one who has willingly deferred gratification for the ample po tential reward awaiting him. On balance, then, the ballplayers do espouse and accept, in large measure, the traditional tenets of the Protestant Ethic, even though there is reason to believe that changes are gradually occurring among them just as Whyte insists that they have already occurred among "organi zation men." Also, it should be abundantly clear, just as Max Weber made it clear in his seminal work written over half a century ago, that Protestantism may have been an important precipitating factor in the development of behav ior that came to be associated with the spirit of capital ism, but there is today, as in Weber's time, little if any lingering relationship between religious belief and con duct. ^ The Protestant Ethic, and the normative behavior ^Lenski, The Religious Factor, p. 266. •^The Protestant Ethic, p. 70, et passim. 334 the term conjures, are no longer religious hut rather, cul tural; really what might better be called a "Western Ethic" accurately describes this value system that has guided the behavior of Western man for several hundred years. The sixth hypothesis proposed that career adjustment would vary with opportunity for prior intimate contact with role models, that is, people functioning, or who had func tioned, in the role. Again, a condition peculiar to base ball as a particular type of occupation provides an expla nation for the obvious refutation of the hypothesis by re ported data. It was found that very few of the players were acquainted or had intimate contact with role models even though they generally exhibited significant role adjustment. However, since the occupation of major league ballplayer receives such wide publicity and its duties, obligations, and rewards are well known to most youth, a kind of surro gate role model exists, carefully nurtured by television and the press and given immeasurable impetus from star-struck fathers of Little Leaguers who are unwitting, although not necessarily unwilling, purveyors of the American dream. It is even reasonable to assume, in fact, that other occupa tions which receive widespread publicity and which stress the basic virtues of hard work, initiative, and self- 335 discipline as prerequisites for substantial rewards, would not need the existence of role models to insure occupational adjustment. Thus, the role-model hypothesis as it applies to modern industrial or other large-scale businesses is questionable and may need reconsideration in light of the instant communication of our McLuhanesque electronic era. If it is true, as Marshall McLuhan suggests, that the mass media of today are decentralizing our modes of living by bringing the entire globe into the boundaries of human awareness, and television and radio, like earlier commodi ties such as cotton and oil, affect the entire psychic life o f a community, then "... this pervasive fact creates the ^ - 11 unique cultural flavor of any society." Old sociological assumptions, then, may have to yield if the social sciences hope to keep abreast of new social configurations. Related to the previous hypothesis, the seventh states that occupational adjustment would vary with the opportunity for prior rehearsal or practice in the role. Using age of players when they first played on an organized team as a measure of prior role rehearsal, no relationship was discovered. Those players who started young expressed UMarshall McLuhan, Understanding Media: The Ex tensions of Man (New York: A Signet Book, 1964), p. 35, et passim. 336 no greater occupational adjustment than those who started at a later age. When years of minor league apprenticeship were used as the criterion for prior role practice, a nega tive relationship was revealed. The longer the player spent in the minor leagues, the poorer his adjustment once he reached the majors. Although much speculation about the reasons for this reversal is possible, particularly in terms of bitterness over the forced postponement of success be cause of the judgment of others, the fact is that the hy pothesis is refuted for the occupation-of major league base ball player. Once again, the question arises as to the special nature of this occupation and the validity of at tempting to apply standard occupational constructs to it. The eighth hypothesis proposed that norms deriving from occupational identity would carry over to, and exert considerable control over, non-occupational behavior. In general, this hypothesis is confirmed. In describing a typical day in their lives, players revealed just how cir cumscribed their behavior patterns are, particularly during the- season, although certain rules of propriety apply even during the winter months. Most of the controls are self- imposed, such as care of one's physical health through proper diet and adequate rest, and moderation in drinking 337 or aggressive behavior in public where image is important. On occasion, however, players are enjoined from certain acts by team management; examples include curfews applied to the hour players must be in bed, restrictions on physical ac tivities such as golf or swimming on game days, and, during the off-season, prohibition against playing basketball or 12 . . other potentially dangerous sports. In a less punitive sense, players are often requested to make public appear ances before service clubs or teams of young amateurs, but these demands are not, strictly speaking, non-occupational and are included as legitimate requisites in official player contracts. It can safely be said that this occupation, by virtue of the highly public circumstances under which it is performed and the importance attached to promulgating a well-controlled definition of the situation for the custo mers who determine its very survival, does, indeed must, exercise considerable control over both the occupational and non-occupational behavior of its performers. The ninth hypothesis elaborates on the eighth by 1 P A case in point is the recent (winter 1967-68) skiing accident to Boston Red Sox pitching ace Jim Lonborg which resulted in a badly broken leg. Lonborg's contract specifically forbids participation in sports such as skiing and basketball without permission of the management. 338 stating that players in this highly focused, or determinate, occupation will experience both positive and negative conse quences of their role which will affect non-occupational behavior. Again, the data support the proposition. It was shown that among the positive consequences of the role, players are able to locate superior off-season jobs, find doors to business contacts graciously opened, and experience numerous favors such as receiving free show tickets, gifts of merchandise, and ready access to usually exclusive social functions. Other salutary effects, also of a more or less "latent" nature, include good physical health and the oppor tunity to spend a substantial portion of each year in idle ness or pursuing some valued avocation. More "manifest" are consequences such as a high standard of living for the players' families, the adulation of fans, and the recogni tion and publicity that sometimes during the relatively calm winters make what may have been rather long, hot summers seem worthwhile. Negative consequences may include the same recogni tion and publicity mentioned above when they become so ob trusive as to interfere with- privacy; fan adulation for the same reason; and perhaps most importantly the restrictions on personal freedoms already discussed such as rigid daily 339 schedules for meals and rest, the necessity of keeping recreational plans for family or friends flexible in case emergency practice sessions are called or the vagaries of weather force a "make-up" on a scheduled "off" day. Thus the major league baseball player as a private citizen gleans some advantages while incurring some burdens because of his occupational role. Then there are some con sequences that cannot be labeled positive or negative, such as the relative diminution of political and religious ac tivity or the increased tendency to gamble and drink. These must be recognized as occupation-linked patterns of behavior the merits of which only each individual player can judge. The tenth hypothesis purported that racial and eth nic equality in baseball was a matter of financial expedi ence for the white establishment, and that substantial so cial distance existed between white and black players. The data on the first part are meager and tentative conclusions are based on interviews and "off-the-cuff" comments by play ers and scouts. Many players noted that money was more important than race, which implied that teams would hire blacks so long as they contributed to a winning season. However, several players claimed that a quota system ex isted, and 1 scout frankly stated he was looking for a white - < rT - outfielder because his team already had enough black players to attract black customers. Another complaint by black players was that the opportunity for making money on testi monials or public appearances was significantly less for them, just as their chances of obtaining a front-office, scouting, or coaching job were poorer after their playing days were over. In addition, some blacks were disturbed over the fact that big bonuses for signing an initial con tract almost always went to whites. The impression was clear that some black players felt they had been or were being exploited, although when pressed on the subject they expressed great happiness with their position and readily insisted they would gladly do the same thing over again if given the chance. The second part of the hypothesis is more clearly answerable, and the answer is an emphatic affirmation. Using choice of leisure-time partner and choice of roommate as measures of social distance, the findings show that the players overwhelmingly choose to spend their free time with others of the same race and almost unanimously choose to room with others of the same race. Although there is sub stantial disagreement among the players about the existence of differential treatment of blacks, with a majority 341 insisting that all are treated equally and talent is all that matters while a sizable minority cite certain specific examples of discrimination, many agree that what problems do exist occur off the playing field and are usually kept sub rosa. The reactions the players gave to questions about job satisfactions and dissatisfactions support the eleventh hypothesis, which proposed that baseball as an occupation will be viewed by performers as a desirable but precarious business with substantial costs as well as rewards, con trary to popular beliefs by outsiders. Though a large majority of the players report strong satisfaction and claim to be very happy with their occupation, many readily list a number of drawbacks, including too much time away from home and family, excessive travel, especially by air, inconven ient hours, and an overly long season. Other dissatisfac tions include job insecurity, pressures, and lack of pri vacy. Significantly, the item listed most often as a source of occupational satisfaction is money, closely followed by travel and the opportunity to meet people and make contacts. Fun or love of the game is a poor fourth among satisfactions derived from baseball, and personal gratifications such as the joy of competition and challenge and the prestige and 342 recognition that accrue are tied for fifth on the players' hierarchy of choices. It would appear that, while the hypothesis is sup ported by the data, the aspects the players especially like about their occupation place unusual stress on instrumental rather than consummatory values; that is, money, travel and contacts are items of material rather than spiritual gain. This would hardly be surprising were it not for the mystique of unselfish devotion to game, youth, and fair play which the public attaches to the players. To many of the players, their occupation, in addition to being a fine one, also is their livelihood, a fact which the average fan for some reason finds unpalatable. The first part of the twelfth hypothesis, which predicted that ballplayers would be relatively uncommitted and uninvolved politically, is shown to be true. The play ers vote less regularly than the general public, and tend not to engage actively in attempts to effect social change. Their geographical mobility, and the relative uncertainty surrounding their future may partially account for these phenomena. Part 2 of the twelfth hypothesis^ assumed, because of the public nature of his occupation and the kinds of 343 audiences before whom he toils, that the major leaguer would be a consumer of popular culture in his private life rather than high culture. Since the data reveal an overriding in terest among players in Western movies, Look. Life, and especially sports magazines, television and sports partici pation (mainly golf and hunting) as favorite pastimes, and practically no interest in art, ballet, opera, or serious reading, the hypothesis is affirmed. The final hypothesis also based its rationale on assumptions about the publicity, mobility, and insecurity which attends professional baseball as an occupation. It was proposed that ballplayers would experience greater mari tal instability and dissolution than people in the general public. The data reveal that the reverse is the case. Ballplayers' marriages are remarkably stable, with 95 per cent of those players who ever married still knotted to the same spouse. Perhaps their youth accounts for the rarity of divorce, and one might pessimistically predict higher rates after retirement from baseball. But with respect to the hypothesis here proposed, it is clearly in error. In keeping with the motif of this work, a summary of the disposition of hypotheses is presented in "box score" format. 344 Hypothesis I. Work will be seen as an end in itself; future goals defined in terms of present job; job not considered instrumental; life goals not defined primarily as money; job not viewed as means of entry into other occu pation . II. Reference group will be fellow players; team officials and players considered primary ones competent to judge per formance; will have only 1 reference group, which remains constant through out occupational career. III. Players will experience horizontal intergenera- tional mobility gener ally, but vertically mobile players more likely to move up than down at time of entry into labor force. IV. Careers will be stable, employment continuous, and status consistent. V. Players will espouse and accept, in large measure, the tradi tional tenets of the Protestant Ethic. Findings Refuted. Affirmed, except that ref erence group may change after active playing career is over. First part refuted, second part affirmed. Refuted. Conflicting evidence, but probably affirmed. VI. Occupational adjust ment varies with op portunity for prior Refuted, although mass media role models may serve as substitutes. 345 Hypothesis intimate contact with role models. VII. Occupational adjust ment varies with op portunity for prior rehearsal or practice in the role. VIII. Non-occupational be havior will be strictly controlled by norms carrying over from oc cupational identity. IX. Positive and negative consequences will ac crue from the occupa tion which will affect non-occupational be havior . X. Racial and ethnic equality is a matter of financial expedi ence for the white establishment; sub stantial social dis tance separates white and black players. XI. Players will view occu pation as rewarding and desirable, but also as a precarious and costly business with many job-related dis satisfactions . XIla. Players will be rela tively uncommitted and uninvolved politi cally. Findings Refuted. A reverse rela tionship was found: the longer the role rehearsal, the poorer the adjustment. Affirmed. Affirmed. First part probably af firmed, second part af firmed. Affirmed. Affirmed. 346 Hypothesis Findings Players will be con- Affirmed, sumers of popular rather than high culture. Players will experi- Refuted, ence greater marital instability and disso lution than the gen eral public. The Maior Leaauer: An Ideal Typology Typing is a methodological procedure as old as science, but credit for refining it as a tool must go to 13 social scientists, and particularly to Max Weber. Weber's use of the term "ideal type" has been widely debated, often under the alternate heading "pure type" which he himself freely substituted. Talcott Parsons, one of Weber's trans lators, writes: The ideal type as Weber used it is both abstract and general. It does not describe a concrete course of action, but a normatively ideal course. . . . It does not describe an individual course of action, but a "typical" one— it is a generalized rubric within which an indefinite number of particular cases may be classified. But it does describe what Weber called an "objectively possible" course of a c t i o n .14 13John C . McKinney, Constructive Typology and Social Theory (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1966), pp. 1-2. Hereinafter cited as McKinney, Constructive Typology. XI lb. XIIc. ^"Introduction: Weber's Methodology of Social 347 Nicholas S. Timasheff further explains it in this manner: The ideal or pure type is a mental construct. It is formed by exaggeration or accentuation of one or more traits or points of view observable in real ity. . . . The ideal type is not a hypothesis. It is a tool for analysis of concrete historical events or situations. Such analysis requires concepts which are precisely and unambiguously defined— standards which can be met with ideal types. An ideal type is a limiting concept with which life situations or ac tions are compared in the process of investigation.^5 Weber has stated that "theoretical analysis in the field of sociology is possible only in terms of such pure types. That these types are constructed should be abun dantly clear; in fact, John McKinney points out that 1 1 all types are constructed," and science owes much to typology construction. "Economics is deeply indebted to its 'eco nomic man1 from which the classical economic theory was de- 17 rived." Similarly, Hans Gerth and C. Wright Mills state: Science," in Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization, trans. by A. M. Henderson and Talcott Parsons (New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1964), p. 13. •^Sociological Theory: Its Nature and Growth (3rd ed.; New York: Random House, 1967), p. 179. ^Weber, Theory of Social and Economic Organization. p. 110. ■ * - 7McKinney, Constructive Typology, pp. 3-4. 348 The much-discussed "ideal type," a key term in Weber's methodological discussion, refers to the construction of certain elements of reality into a logically precise conception. . . . By using this term, Weber did not mean to introduce a new conceptual tool. He merely intended to bring to full awareness what social scientists and historians had been doing when they used words like "the economic man," "feudalism," "Gothic versus *1 f t Romanesque architecture," or "kingship."xo And finally, McKinney further clarifies and narrows the application of the term by writing: The sociologist is dependent upon such notions as competition, conflict, accommodation, assimilation, socialization, superordination, subordination, in stitutionalization, community, society, caste and class, sacred and secular, rural and urban, democ- racy-autocracy, the deviant, solidarity, primary group; these and many more may be constructed types. With this brief introduction to ideal typology as a guide, its application to a particular occupational type, the major league baseball player, will serve to suggest potential research areas not covered in this work. It can be said at the start that the typical major leaguer is young, healthy, and highly motivated to achieve success. He was probably born and raised in a large city, ^®Hans H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills, trans. and eds., From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology (New York: Ox ford University Press, A Galaxy Book, 1946), p. 59. l9Constructive Typology. p. 4. 349 began playing baseball on an organized team at the age of 10, found his interest in the sport stimulated by exposure to role models through the mass media, and went to college for 1 year before signing a professional contract. He most likely is white, although that probability is diminishing, married without ever having been divorced, and the father of 2 children. His family was working-class while he was grow ing up, and he sees himself as a middle-class person today. It is highly unlikely that his father was a doctor, lawyer, professor, physicist, chemist, or any other kind of pro fessional, nor is it probable that this breadwinning parent was a prosperous businessman. In his private life, the major leaguer typically identifies with the Democratic Party, but votes irregularly if at all, and rarely gets sufficiently aroused by social problems to work actively to bring about change. His life is dominated by 1 central' purpose and that is baseball, and it apparently consumes his emotional and physical energies so completely during the playing season that all other in terests are subdued, if not subverted. The major leaguer probably identifies with the Protestant religion, although there is only slightly less of a chance that he prefers Catholicism. He is not a 350 regular church-goer, but professes belief in God and claims to live by His precepts. However, he gambles at cards and horse racing relatively frequently, and likes his beer after the game is over. Despite his own patterns of behavior, he typically views gamblers and drinkers critically, especially when they indulge excessively. He is probably sexually promiscuous to a greater degree than the average man, but then his occupation offers opportunities that other men seldom encounter. When he is not working, the major leaguer charac teristically spends his time at home with his family, but his favorite form of recreation is to watch or participate in sports activities. He likes movies, especially Westerns, both on television and in the movie houses, is an avid reader of sports and graphic magazines fLife. Look. Saturday Evening Post), but seems to abhor art, classical music, opera, or ballet. He is a consumer of popular rather than high culture. At work, the typical major leaguer professes great happiness with his occupation, and as a result appears to be well-adjusted to his role. It seems to have mattered little whether he began playing at age 7 or at age 12, he is still happy and adjusted. He probably spent 3 to 5 years 351 in the minor leagues, and the longer he spent the poorer his adjustment after he reached the majors. The most attractive feature about his occupation is, surprisingly, money, with travel and meeting people and making contacts also highly valued. He typically dislikes the time he is forced to spend away from his home and family, the work hours, the length of the season, and certain job-related insecurities. His attitude toward his own "chattel" status of being bought and sold at the discretion of management is one of approbation, just as he sees nothing wrong with a high- risk job offering very limited tenure. He accepts both conditions on the grounds that they are part of the game and he knew it when he signed his contract. These views imply that the major leaguer typically is a conformist, a man who supports the status quo, perhaps even somewhat of a fatalist accepting without debate whatever rules are imposed upon him. In addition, he probably believes strongly in the principle of rugged individualism since his reaction to questions of occupational security is to explain how he is making wise investments to insure his future. He completely accepts the idea of risk for reward. These and similar attitudes toward such things as success, individual respon sibility, and the virtues of hard work and competition stamp 352 him as an adherent to traditions and ethical systems which make up the cornerstones of American society. The typical player identifies occupationally with the entertainment profession, and sees himself in the role of idol or model for youngsters while supplying emotional release and recreation for adults. Yet he denies any fate ful nexus with legendary players of the past and enjoys considering himself "just an ordinary guy." Despite this proclivity toward a "plain folks" self-perception, however, he staunchly proclaims, on 1 hand, that there is no "typi cal" player and each one is different, while on the other hand, he readily describes himself as "dedicated, competi tive, self-centered," and a "good guy with a sense of hu mor ." He has untempered contempt for the average fan, who knows next to nothing about the game and who thinks it is glamorous, easy, and fabulously lucrative. Yet he recog nizes the customers' right to criticize and acknowledges the fact that a well-played game is usually appreciated. The major leaguer rejects any implication that ra cial discrimination exists in his profession, but at the same time he admits that blacks and whites seldom interact off the playing field. Also, he occasionally finds it 353 necessary to remark that Latin players are "showboats" and Negro players are "lazy or gutless." These comments are made, obviously, by the typical white player. The typical black player is less inclined to give baseball a clean slate in its race relations. He complains of fewer opportunities to make money on endorsements, and of random inequities both on and off the playing field. However, he too, like his white colleague, reports (at least to this white researcher) general satisfaction that relations between the races in the major leagues, while not perfect, are reasonably harmonious. In other respects, the typical black major leaguer is an interesting mirror-image of his white teammate, but he also differs in several important ways. He too is young, healthy and ambitious; he too comes from a working-class home, probably earned a high school diploma, and sees him self as having ascended into the middle class. Politically, he is more critical of the government's record in solving social problems, is solidly Democratic in his party prefer ence, but does not exercise his franchise any more regularly than the white player. In terms of gambling and drinking, the typical black player and the typical white player behave alike. Simi larly, they spend their leisure time doing the same kinds 354 of things, but not in each other's company. One dramatic difference is the statistical fact that the typical black player more than likely is a better batter, fielder, and baserunner, although probably not a better pitcher, than his white counterpart. Where the typical black is a star, the typical white is an average performer. This, then, is an ideal typology of the major league baseball player. It is obviously fragmentary, selective, and exaggerated. No player is likely to be an amalgam of all the traits and attributes described here, yet each trait and attitude is logically and objectively possible just as the behavior that has been characterized is conceivable in the real world. The typology is, after all, constructed from real models. It was previously stated that 1 of the merits of a constructed ideal typology is that it enables comparisons to be made with life situations. These comparisons act as pointers drawing attention to existing gaps in knowledge. They identify potentially fruitful research directions. The following comments are offered as suggestions both for sub stantive future research and the methodological means to carry it out. 355 Suggestions for Further Research The most obvious study suggested by this present research is one which is a logical extension of the propo sitions tested here but using the entire population of major leaguers instead of a sample. Money, time, and the coopera tion of management, that is, the owners of each team and the Commissioner of Baseball, are needed, but there is every reason to believe that such support could be attained, es pecially if the project can be shown to be in the best in terests of the game. Some new lines of inquiry would be desirable, just as deletion of some of the questions asked here might be in order. Another research possibility growing directly out of the limitations of this work is a longitudinal study to trace role-recruitment patterns. Whereas here the players were asked to recall their childhood influences and learning patterns, an ex post facto research design, there is little doubt that an investigation conducted over time, perhaps utilizing large numbers of young players some of whom would represent a control group (i.e., those who dropped out of baseball somewhere during the socialization process) and others an experimental group, would be superior and yield more reliable data. 356 Perhaps one of the most important follow-up studies which should be done is a verificational investigation to determine if the hypotheses shown not to hold for baseball as an occupation, but which generally are true for other determinate occupations, are refutable again when the par ticular groups being studied are professional football, basketball, or hockey players, or when they are entertain ers, musicians (both high- and lowbrow), or other highly trained and skilled performers with a public. There has been little research on these occupational types, and they are discussed only cursorily in textbooks or monographs on the sociology of work or occupations. For the most part, they have been neglected on occupational prestige scales as well. It would appear that these specialized occupations are different from other occupations and merit careful and separate consideration. Even the pioneering and highly promising conceptualizations of occupational situses by Paul K. Hatt leave much to be desired and in any case need 20 to be elaborated on. ^®For Hatt's explanation of "situs" and his categor ization which in all likelihood would include professional sports, see Albert J. Reiss, Jr., et al.. Occupations and Social Status (New York: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1961), pp. 45 and 252-255. 357 Since a large portion of this study consists of descriptive data, it seems appropriate to point out what else needs to be described. Post-playing occupations repre sent an area that merits attention. Very little systemati cally gathered data exist which tell what happens to ex major leaguers. Occasionally, a sportswriter will make a limited personal survey by asking people he knows, "Whatever happened to so-and-so . . .?" or the Office of the Commis sioner of Baseball will publish a publicity booklet boasting that organized baseball's legacy to the retired player is 21 a handsome one. But in general, not much information is available on the subject, despite the importance it might have in terms of occupational recruitment and the valuable addition to the total role picture of the major leaguer it would represent. More precise knowledge of off-season employment is also a matter for further study, for black players as well as white. Research on the minor leaguer is needed also, to provide background material on those who eventually make the major leagues, and at the same time offer a potential mech anism for predicting occupational success; e.g., who makes P 1 An example is Baseball; The Game— The Career— The Opportunity. it and who does not? Small group research would find a congenial, as well as rewarding, laboratory in a major league team's dressing room. A social psychologist could attach himself to a par ticular ball club in much the same way that a sportswriter does, and travel with the team from city to city, gathering data on formal and informal interaction. Topics that would lend themselves to such a situation might include studies of team morale during varying periods of success? clique forma tions and their effect on performance? the make-up of any cliques controlled for race, position on the team, age, and status? the "anatomy of a winning streak" or its counter part, 1 1 . . .a losing streak"? and any number of other pos- 22 sibilities. As the typology on the preceding pages pointed out, most major leaguers come from working-class homes. One wonders why this is so, and also why middle- and upper- middle-class youngsters tend to experience a lessening of interest in baseball as a career opportunity as they grow 22tj0te this statement: "We have a number of empiri cal studies of bureaucratic conflict, but almost nothing on commercial rivalry or athletic contests. The effects of victory or defeat on the internal structure of a football team are still as unknown to social science as the demogra phy of Mars. Theodore Caplow, Principles of Organization (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1964), p. 324. 359 older, presuming this is the case. Again, a longitudinal study of Little Leaguers might be an effective technique to probe this phenomenon. Another research idea suggested by the ideal typol ogy is a study of the reasons for the apparent marital stability which ballplayers have. Comparisons with certain selected entertainment occupations might prove fruitful, and a follow-up inquiry to see whether divorces occur later, after the players retire from baseball, would no doubt be instructive. A major research project of great potential value would be a study, not of the player as this work has done, but of the social structure of major league baseball. "All groups and societies organize their activities into a social structure," write a team of sociologists, who then go on to point out the components of any structure, e.g., norms, positions, sanctions, anticipated responses, and a system 23 of action. One scheme which might be used for classifying the norms in professional baseball was suggested many years ago by Ralph Linton, and included a trichotomous categori zation which he labeled "normative universals, normative ^Lundberg, et al. . Sociology. p. 146. 360 24 alternatives, and normative specialties." Here is an example of how such a model might be applied: Normative Universals Normative Alternatives Normative Specialties 1. All players must Players may choose Pitchers may wear wear minimum uni- not to wear long- jackets while run- form of cap, socks, sleeved under- ning the bases, pants, shirt, etc. shirts on hot days. 2. Players are ex- Some managers im- pected to get suf- pose strict cur- ficient rest to be fews to assure able to perform to proper rest, the best of their Players whose fami lies are visiting them may be excused from curfew re strictions . ability. Similar models can be used to study positions, sanctions, anticipated responses and actions. For example, certain positions demand specialized skills; norms of behavior regu late actions in those positions? failure to live up to the expectations may lead to sanctions (benching, being traded, etc.). Once the social structure of a baseball team can be fully described, important propositions about occupational behavior, general societal values, social influence and decision-making, and a variety of others might be tested. Other matters of structure, some of which no doubt The Study of Man (New York: Appleton-Century- Crofts, Inc., 1936), pp. 272-274 and 278-279. 361 bear directly on the functioning of baseball as a social system, include the whole problem area of contracts, retire ment pensions, minimum wages, the reserve clause (manage ment's right to trade or retain the services of a player without that player's consent), and related topics. Follow ing Robert K. Merton, a worthwhile subject to pursue might be "manifest" as opposed to "latent" functions in a baseball 25 society. Similarly, Merton's complete paradigm for func tional analysis might be applied, in hopes, as Merton him self points out, of aiding interpretation of sociological data as well as sensitizing researchers to the collection of types of data.^^ One example might be an analysis of the functioning of a particular player-position, its value to the team (or system) as a whole, the type of person it at tracts in terms of physique, personality, or intelligence, its possibilities for dysfunction, and the range of actions within its capabilities, given., its structural limitations" The question of audience behavior needs to be pur- sued more diligently, not to mention creatively. In this work, the players' views of fans are reported, but pc Social Theory and Social Structure, p. 51. 26Ibid.. pp. 50-54, but esp. p. 54n. 362 information on the reverse is also needed. It has been suggested, for example, that major league baseball players represent folk heroes for the American public. However, until the public's attitudes are known, all the informed speculation that the hypothesis generates provides no proof. Of course, the problems attendant to sampling baseball fans are plentiful and prodigious, but not insurmountable. On this same general subject of the player as folk hero, it has been suggested by more than 1 serious student of American culture that professional athletes achieved their remarkable ascendancy to the pedestal of heroism they presumably now hold as a result of a lack, in American mythological history, of other heroic figures of epic pro portions such as one finds in the tales of the Olympian gods in Greece, King Arthur legends in England, or the characters ■ 27 of the Nibelungenlied in the Germanic countries. Here is a provocative idea for sociocultural inquiry. A feasible and intriguing research possibility with professional baseball teams as the subject is a study of the effects of different kinds of leadership on 2^See, for example: Roger Kahn, "Money, Muscles — and Myths," in Mass Leisure, ed. by Eric Larrabee and Rolf Meyersohn (Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1958), pp. 264- 268. 363 organizational effectiveness. In this case, the problem would relate to varying managerial philosophies and the won- lost records of each team. There is a substantial body of small group literature on leadership, and ever since the pioneering studies by Kurt Lewin and Ronald Lippitt interest 28 has been high in the topic of "styles" of leadership. In baseball, perhaps Leo Durocher was reflecting his own mana gerial values, or perhaps he was making a more general statement about the way things are, when he uttered his now- famous comment, "Nice guys finish last." The question, it seems, is worth answering. This list of proposals for further research could continue indefinitely. Professional baseball, it must be apparent, along with the other professional sports, present challenges to social and behavioral scientists that are worthy of serious consideration. Not only has there been little research by social scientists into the nature and functions of sports, but also, as Gregory P. Stone has pointed out, ". . .no studies have been made of the pp °Kurt Lewin and Ronald Lippitt, An Experimental Approach to the Study of Autocracy and Democracy: A Pre liminary Note," Sociometry. I.(1938), 292-300; Ronald Lip pitt, "An Experimental Study of the Effect of Democratic and Authoritarian Atmospheres," University of Iowa Studies in Child Welfare. XVI (1940), 43-195. 364 29 function of sport for the American consumer." So much of America’s entertainment dollar today is spent on spectator sports, yet practically nothing is known about this most popular of recreational activities except what the profes sionals (the public relations men, sportswriters, athletes themselves) who make their livelihood in sports want the public to know. It behooves these men to create myths and dreams, which they then perpetuate while the consumer, that indolent and willing giant, supports it all. It is not a question of the myths and dreams being good or bad; they may in fact be extremely important for the collective emotional health of our society. No judgment need be implied in pro posing research to explore this hitherto neglected area in American social relations. Nor should it be imagined that this is the first of such proposals. Stone calls for a "social science of play," which he says is needed in Amer- 30 ica, and he identifies others who have made the same plea. "American Sports: Play and Dis-Play," in Mass Leisure. ed. by Larrabee and Meyersohn, p. 256. 30lbid.. p. 263. See also pp. 253 and 263, n. 4. A P P E N D I X E S 365 APPENDIX A BASEBALL PLAYERS QUESTIONNAIRE 366 BASEBALL PLAYERS QUESTIONNAIRE There are no right or wrong answers. Put down whatever comes to mind. Work quickly and do not think too long about any one question. Your answers are and will remain com pletely anonymous. Your name will never be identified with your replies. Name ______________ . Birth date____________________________. Birth place_________________________. Where did you grow up? _______________________. Present home town___________________. Marital status______________ . If married, how many years? . (single-mar-div-separated) If divorced, how many years married to first wife?__________. Remarried?_____ . How many years?______. Children (sex and ages)_____________________________________. Education: What was the highest grade of school you completed?______________ . If college, give any degrees, your major, and the date of your graduation._______________________________________________ . What was your father's (or the head of the household's) usual occupation while you were growing up?__________________. How much education did your father complete? (List any diplomas, degrees, etc.)______________________________________ . Your mother?_____________________________. What is your fa ther's (or head of household's) current occupation?_________. Did your family consider themselves to be in the: (check one) Working class ? Middle class ; Upper-middle class r Upper class . Please write any comments about the social position of your family which would better ex plain what class they really fit into?_______________________. What social class do you place yourself in now?_____________ . 367 Describe the kind of work you do during the "off-season" generally:_________________________________________________. Do you find that your name and reputation as a baseball player helps you in your "off-season" work?_______________ . If so, how?________________________________________________. How happy would you say you are with your occupation as a major league baseball player? (a) Very happy, and would do the same thing all over again if I had the chance. (b) Fairly happy, and aside from a few dissatisfac tions, I would pursue the same career again. (c) Neither happy nor unhappy, but I just do my job to make a good living. (d) Fairly unhappy, and would probably choose another occupation if given a second chance. (e) Very unhappy, and would never do the same thing again. After careful thought, what are some of the things you especially like about your occupation?__________________ . After careful thought, what are some of the unsatisfac tory things about your occupation?_______________________. Changing the subject a bit, some people say the govern ment should do more than it has in connection with prob lems such as housing, unemployment, education, civil rights, and so on. But others say the government is already doing too much along these lines. On the whole, would you say that what the government is doing now is: too much; about right; not enough; or per haps you have not been following it too closely and don't feel qualified to judge. Would you explain your answer:___________________________. Do you consider yourself a Republican or Democrat? _________________ . If neither, in general do you con sider yourself closer to the Republican Party or the Democratic Party?_________________________________________ . Many people say they didn1t bother to vote in the last presidential election. Do you remember, did you vote in the last presidential election?______ . Did you vote in the last election for state senator?______ . For city mayor? . If you did not vote, was there any spe cial reason?_______________________________________________. How concerned are you with world problems— things such as our country's relations with Russia, Vietnam, China, and Latin American nations? (a) I am terribly concerned, and write letters to 369 the president and to my congressman regularly, and read all I can on the subject. (b) I am concerned, but don't have a chance to do much besides keep up on the news by reading newspapers, magazines, and articles. (c) I am somewhat concerned, but the problems are too complex to keep current on them, so I don11 try. (d) I am not very concerned, since I can't do any thing anyway, so I just trust the government. (e) I am not concerned about world problems, since it does no good to worry about them. 7. Do you have a religious preference; that is, are you either Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, or some other religion?__________________ . If Protestant, what spe cific demonination, if any?_____________________________ . If Jewish, do you consider yourself Orthodox, Conserva tive, Reform, or none of these?_________________________. About how often, if ever, have you attended religious services in the last year? (a) once a week or more __(b) two or three times (c) once a month a month (e) never _(d) a few times a year In your own words, what part would you say religion plays in your life?______________________________________. 8. How do you feel about gambling; that is, from the moral standpoint, would you say it is: always wrong; usually wrong; sometimes wrong; never wrong. How often do you play cards for money during the sea son?______________________. Off-season?_________________ . How often do you go to the races (either dog or horse) during the season?______________. Off-season?__________. 9. From the moral standpoint, would you say that moderate drinking is: always wrong; usually wrong; sometimes wrong; never wrong. Do you think heavy drinking is: always wrong; usually wrong; sometimes wrong; never wrong. What are your general attitudes toward drinking as far as you yourself are concerned?__________________________. 10. If you had to choose, which occupational grouping do you think the major league baseball player is closest to? (circle the number of your choice): 370 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. Doctors Lawyers Architects Scientists Artists PROFESSIONALS IV Salesmen Clerks Draftsmen WHITE COLLAR WORKERS II Actors Singers Dancers Musicians ENTERTAINERS III Machinists Carpenters Electricians Plumbers Barbers SKILLED MANUAL WORKERS V Bank managers Owners of large retail businesses Factory owners BUSINESS EXECUTIVES Please explain your choice: Now, about your occupation as a major league ball player, you are in a high-risk occupation which pays well for a few years and then your productive time is over. What are your feelings about this part of your profession?_______________________________________________ , Do you approve or disapprove of the fact that you may be sold or released if your club needs to make a deal to strengthen a position, or if you fail to perform up to standard?_________________ . Why?_____________________, How would you evaluate your profession, that is, what words would best describe the kind of job it is for you?____________________________________________ , What do you think the public thinks the life of the ballplayer is like?______________________________________, In general terms, what do you think the "typical" major leaguer is like? In other words, what kind of a person is the professional baseball player?____________________. In your own words, what do you think is the true con tribution, not necessarily what the newspapers and magazines say it is, of the major league baseball player to American culture in general?_________________ . A writer recently made the following statement, and I would like to know what you think about it: "A ball player feels a direct . . . association with the leg endary players of the past; he is a part of American history and therefore above the din of the average guy who works for a weekly or hourly wage.” What do you 371 think about that statement?______________________________. 17. If you were to describe your own "image," personally, as far as the public sees you, how would you describe it?________________________________________________________ . 18. Now, what do you think you, personally, are really like, that is, what kind of a baseball player and a person do you see yourself as?__________________________ . 19. What is your honest opinion of the average fan?________. 20. What do you think white ballplayers in general feel about playing alongside Negro and Latin players?_______. 21. Do you feel that Negro and Latin players are treated any differently because of race or nationality than white or U. S. players are treated?_____________________. If so, in what ways?_____________________________________ . 22. In your opinion, who is the team leader, the one every one recognizes as the leader, the one who "carries" the team when there is a crisis on or off the field?_______. 23. How do you usually spend your free time during the season, that is, when not traveling, at the ballpark, or resting?_______________________________________________ . How about during the off-season?________________________ . 24. With regard to your free time, if you had your choice of anyone on the club to spend free time with, whom would you choose? (1st) . (2nd)______________. Is there anyone, or several, you would rather not spend your free time with?_____________________________________ . Who is your roommate on the road?_______________________ . At home? (if single)_____________________________________ . 25. What are your favorite kinds of recreation and enter tainment, and how often do you participate or go? Choose from the following list, or write in any others you may enjoy: movies dancing night clubs stage dramas stage musicals sports events opera ballet hunting fishing gambling horse races TV viewing art exhibits museums hobbies (list hobbies) others (for example: "movies— once a week") What kinds of movies are your favorites?______________ Which magazines do you generally read?________________ 26. How many hours a day, on the average, do you watch TV during the season?_______. How about the off-season? ______ . What programs do you watch most often?_______ 372 27. Can you name the first organized team you ever played on as a kid? (for example, church team, Little League, playground team, etc.)_________________ . How old were you?_______. Name all the other teams you played on as you grew up: (1)_____________; (2)____________ ; (3)____________; (4)_____________; (5)____________ ; (6)____________ . List your minor league teams, and the year:____________ . 28. What got you interested in baseball as a career? Was there anybody in your family or neighborhood whom you saw regularly as a kid who taught you the game or who got you interested, or how did you get interested? In general, what decided you on professional baseball as a career?______________________________________________ . 29. Without naming names, would you say players who have had the greatest success, the "stars," go along with the team rules such as keeping in shape, being on time, keeping curfews, etc., more, about the same, or less than the average player?_________________________________. How about old-timers who are not considered stars? Do they go along with the rules more, about the same, or less than the average player? ; ______________________ . How about the rookies? More, the same, or less?_______. 30. Are the "stars" always the team leaders in your opin ion?__________. If so, why?______________________________. If not, why not?__________________________________________. THANK YOU FOR HELPING WITH THIS SURVEY A P P E N D I X B BASEBALL AND THE PLAYER: SOME FINAL THOUGHTS 373 BASEBALL AND THE PLAYER: SOME FINAL THOUGHTS Ernie Harwell, a popular baseball writer during the middle 1950's, once wrote an article entitled "The Game for All America," which has since become a minor classic in the 1 baseball sub-culture. Here are some selected passages from that article which speak directly to several important ideas discussed in this present work: It's America, this baseball. A re-issued news reel of boyhood dreams. Dreams lost somewhere be tween boy and man. Baseball is a spirited race of man against man, reflex against reflex. A game of inches. Every skill is measured. Every heroic, every failing is seen and cheered— or booed. And then becomes a statistic. In baseball, democracy shines its clearest. Here the only race that matters is the race to the bag. The creed is the rule book. Color is some thing to distinguish one team's uniform from an other . Baseball is continuity. Pitch to pitch. Inning to inning. Game to game. Series to series. Season • ^Sporting News, April 13, 1955, p. 12. 374 375 to season. Baseball is the cool, clear eyes of Rogers Hornsby, the flashing spikes of Ty Cobb. . . . Baseball? It's just a game— as simple as a ball and bat. Yet, as complex as the American spirit it symbolizes. It's a sport, business— and sometimes even religion. Baseball is Tradition in flannel knickerbock ers. And Chagrin in being picked off base. It is Dignity in the blue serge of an umpire running the game by rule of thumb. . . . And Pathos, drag ging itself off the field after being knocked from the box. Baseball is a rookie— his experience no bigger than the lump in his throat— trying to begin ful fillment of a dream. It's a veteran, too— a tired old man of 35, hoping his aching muscles can drag him through another sweltering August and September. For nine innings, baseball is the story of David and Goliath, of Samson, Cinderella, Paul Bun- yan, Homer's Iliad and the Count of Monte Cristo. Willie Mays making a brilliant World's Series catch. And then going home to Harlem to play stick-ball in the street with his teen-age pals— that's baseball. So is the husky voice of a doomed Lou Gehrig saying, "I'm the luckiest guy in the worId." This is a game for America, this baseball! A game for boys and for men. These commendatory epithets about baseball as an American institution, written by a man whose life was de voted to sports, are indeed moving. Many of them, in addi tion to the arousal of emotion they evoke, may even be true. For example, there is little doubt that a rookie gets ner vous, that an older player gets tired, that baseball is 376 traditional, that the umpire is a complete authoritarian, that a defeated pitcher is unhappy, or that mistakes are visible, negatively sanctioned, and recorded, just as good plays are visible, positively sanctioned, and recorded. But the others raise some grave questions, some of which this research attempted to answer, or at least partially so. That democracy shines its clearest in baseball may be oft and loudly proclaimed, but it is nonetheless a doubt ful proposition. The professional baseball manager is an absolute monarch, and is usually the first to admit it. He can be likened to the captain of a ship, who gives orders, expects them to be obeyed, may or may not consult with his subordinates, and has the power to mete out punishments or rewards. Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary defines "de mocracy" as "Government by the people; government in which the supreme power is retained by the people and exercised either directly (abso'lute, or pure, democracy), or indi rectly (representative democracy) through a system of repre sentation." The players on a baseball team enjoy neither of these kinds of democracy. They make few, if any, decisions affecting the game, their work hours, the teams for which they play, or even the hotels in which they stay or the method of transportation they use during their travels. Nor 377 do they elect representatives who make such decisions in their interests. It has only heen in the past few years that professional athletes have begun to organize into union-type groups and to bargain collectively to better their work situation. There is surely very little that is democratic about baseball in its occupational sense. Of course, one may argue that or^ the field baseball teaches democracy. It stresses fair play, sportsmanship, competition, and most important, cooperation. However, since the spitball is an illegal pitch, the trick for those pitchers who like to use it is to see how successfully they might deceive the umpires by throwing it without being de tected. Similarly, when a pitch is thrown close to a bat ter and accidentally strikes his bat as he is falling back, he will frequently claim the ball struck his hand and plead with the umpire to award him first base. Such examples are endless, but the point is clear; how can it be claimed that baseball teaches fair play when it teaches, in fact, how to deceive? In addition, every youngster who watches the pro fessionals play knows many of these tricks by the time he is a veteran of Little League. As for teaching cooperation, which implies working for the good of the team, this is an equally spurious notion. What are the impressionable youth 378 of America to learn about unselfish devotion to the team when they read in the newspapers that 2 of the game's out standing pitchers are holding out for half a million dollars' worth of salary in a package deal for 1 season, or they will refuse to play? Baseball teaches competition, to be sure, but that has little to do with democracy per se. The idea that the only important race is to first base and that skin color is a matter of indifference among the men who participate in this shining example of democ racy is also untrue, as this study has taken pains to point out. Baseball is assuredly a "spirited race of man against man," but if 1 is black and the other white there were un doubtedly many inequalities at the start of the race; even if skills matter most once both parties are in the major leagues and on the diamond, life goes on off the diamond too. Does baseball symbolize the American spirit? It may, but parts of that spirit are not always commendable. Growing, as this country and its system of values have, from a Puritan tradition, the importance of self-denial and the emphasis on rugged individualism have' led all too often to a competition that bordered on the ruthless. Professional baseball has, from time to time, reflected both the ethic 3 79 and its occasionally unhappy consequence. Ty Cobb, who Harwell tells us wore "flashing spikes," often saw fit to flash them against the shins of an unlucky fielder who blocked his path. Or Rogers Hornsby, who had "cool, clear eyes," later in his career when he began to manage must have leveled them sternly on his players, who have attested to some of the outrageously strict and uncompromising rules he imposed. It is small wonder that major league baseball play ers enjoy Western movies. Here is what a noted observer and critic of American culture has said about the Western as a distorted purveyor of folklore about an American hero image: The same rampant free will that operated in the costume, cloak-and-dagger drama dominated the West ern. . . . The cowboy hero with steel-blue or slate- gray eyes, two-fisted and two-gunned, as fast on the draw with his left hand as with his right, fought his way through packs of enemies and never allowed the bruising he received en route to daunt his spirit or check his purpose.^ The similarities between the cowboy and the ballplayer are striking, especially the distortions. Just as "the dirt, the grinding labor of frontier life are conspicuously absent 3 from cowboy fiction," so most accounts of professional ^Gurko, Heroes, Highbrows & the Popular Mind, p. 180. • ^ Ibid. , p. 183. 380 baseball omit the dreariness, the frustration, and the heartbreak which accompany the fun and the triumphs. Both the cowboy and the ballplayer have unusual eyes; both are I* Vi J ■_ physically adept, 1 with fists or guns, the other with bat, ball, or flashing spikes. But these are literary like nesses and concern superficialities. More important because it reflects a philosophical consistency between them is the concept of free will. The cowboy's individual determination was cited above; the ballplayer's can be seen in his reluc tance to display injury or pain publicly, his insistence on being allowed to continue in a game after a collision or a beaning, or his irrepressible optimism about tomorrow, next week, or next season even in the face of awful defeat. The same ethic, it seems, guides both hero types, who, it must be remembered, are formulations of writers who have ab stracted (as in the construction of an ideal typology) se lected features of their heroes' sub-cultures and emphasized them so they reflect the dominant values of our society. The result has been, for both cowboy and baseball player, a huge halo of mythology surrounding an uncommonly heroic figure, 1 with whom Americans can identify while they prac tice their idolatry. Baseball may be an important part of America, but 381 professional baseball is not the America that school chil dren are taught about, despite what Mr. Harwell would have us believe. Major league baseball is a job for hard working professionals who happen to like their work. They both recognize and enjoy the hero-status showered upon them by the baseball public. But the facts ought not be obfus cated with claims that "baseball is a model of democracy," or it "teaches sportsmanship." Professional baseball, or any professional sport for that matter, is filled with too many mischievous influences to allow it to qualify as an unchallenged national model. Just as there has emerged in recent years a revo lution aimed at long-sacred American institutions, so base ball, the business, might well profit from such changes. In a world dangerously and tragically torn by conflict, pro fessional sports teach more of the same. For decades pub licists and sportswriters have been the only source of knowledge about professional baseball. Perhaps those in- 4 tellectuals about whom Roger Kahn wrote, who are so pas sionately involved with the daily fortunes of America's major league baseball players, are reluctant to study their ^"Intellectuals and Baseball," pp. 342-349. 382 idols in a dispassionate way. As Gregory Stone suggests, Americans are made uneasy by the thought of play being taken seriously; "nor are sociologists immune to such discomfort," 5 he writes. 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Creator Charnofsky, Harold (author)

Core Title The Major League Professional Baseball Player: A Sociological Study

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Sociology

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag OAI-PMH Harvest,sociology, general

Language English

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Advisor McDonagh, Edward C. (committee chair), Lasswell, Thomas E. (committee member), Martin, David W. (committee member)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c18-699047

Unique identifier UC11361192

Identifier 6916543.pdf (filename),usctheses-c18-699047 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier 6916543.pdf

Dmrecord 699047

Document Type Dissertation

Rights Charnofsky, Harold

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus, Los Angeles, California 90089, USA