© 2024 St. Louis Public Radio
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

A down-to-earth chat with Bill White

This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, April 5, 2011 - When referring to Bill White, the retired All-Star, baseball broadcaster and National League executive, he'd prefer that any mentions of the word "first" be limited to the base he used to play for the Cardinals, Phillies and New York Giants.

White, now 77, writes in his just released memoir that he long ago grew weary of the "firsts" that are always attached to his name and achievements. Yes, he broke barriers: He was the first African American to provide the play-by-play for a major league sports team, and when he was appointed president of the National League in 1989 he knew there was no avoiding the references to his race.

"But I felt the same way I had when I was the 'first full-time black broadcaster' in Major League Baseball. I didn't intend to fail, but if somehow I did, I wanted it to be Bill White who had failed, not a black man who had failed," White writes in "Uppity: My Untold Story About the Games People Play" ($26.99 Grand Central Publishing.)

Asked how he would identify himself if he were writing this interview story, White answered matter-of-factly.

"I would just write 'Bill White,'" he said. "I would never use a racial designation."

White said he tried to keep racial descriptions about people in his book to a minimum. And besides, he added, with a soft chuckle. "Today we have television. You know what color people are. You know what gender they are."

"Uppity" is a page-turner that is as much about baseball as it isn't. As much about race as it isn't. It is an American story: a well-told autobiography of a little boy from a poor family -- his family picked cotton in Florida before migrating to Ohio to work in the steel mills -- who figured out how to succeed in life.

Told in White's direct and honest voice, the book traces his take-it-or-leave-it relationship with a sport that he viewed -- in the beginning -- as a means to pay for his medical education and later, as his job. The title, of course, refers to the age-old slur bestowed on those who refuse to stay in their "place" -- a badge of honor to a man known for rocking the boat. The book is an eye-opener for generations too young to remember the "Whites Only" signs posted throughout pre-civil rights America.

White opens with a hot, muggy night in the summer of 1954 when he was playing in the minor leagues, just seven years after Jackie Robinson pioneered the integration of major league baseball. White describes waiting alone on the bus for his manager to bring him a carryout, while his white teammates ate burgers in a roadside dive that refused to serve blacks. He relates tales of playing good baseball, despite the racial epithets showered upon him by fans in the stands, including an incident in 1953 when he'd had enough and turned an upraised finger toward the crowd in Graham, N.C. After the game, his team marched out as a group -- armed with their Louisville Sluggers -- to get through the angry crowd.

But, not to worry, baseball fans, there are grins amid the grit.

White shares candid musings on the Cardinals and their 1964 World Series win, a delightful chapter on his friendship and in-the-booth antics with legendary Yankee broadcaster Phil Rizzuto, anecdotes galore on the likes of Willie Mays, who wrote the book's forward, Jackie Robinson, Bob Gibson, George Steinbrenner and Howard Cosell. And don't miss the excerpt on his dealings as league president with former Cincinnati Reds owner Marge Schott who set new standards for bigotry and political incorrectness.

White is pleased that early reviews have declared his book "a good read."

"Everybody says that," he said, the smile in his voice coming through loud and clear over the telephone. "Of course, I've read it about 10 times and every time I read it, it gets more boring."

White credits some of the book's liveliness to his decision to keep his life story -- written with journalist Gordon Dillow -- to just under 300 pages.

"The whole book is only about a third about what I could have written," White said, adding that "on the other hand, you've left out some important things."

The book was easy to write, he said, because, "I've never dodged anything."

Looking back on his successful career -- White points out that he's actually had three -- he ranks his 18 years as a sportscaster above playing first base in the major leagues and even steering the National League.

"Because it was the most fun," he explains.

After he retired from baseball, White was hired to call games for the New York Yankees, though he got his first broadcast experience at KMOX, while playing with the Cardinals.

White, a five-time All-Star and seven-time Gold Glove winner, now prefers fishing and traveling in his motor home to watching baseball. In fact, he says, he has never been to the Yankees' new stadium that opened in 2009. In addition to some television and radio appearances, he is limiting his book signings to the cities where he played: St. Louis, Philadelphia, New York.

Although he rarely goes to ballgames anymore, White is planning a visit to Busch stadium during his book signing trip to St. Louis. He has promised to spend some time with Cardinals announcer Mike Shannon in the broadcast booth.

"I have to go because Mike Shannon and I played together, so I'll go sit with him," White said, adding, "He says he's got a nice lounge up there."

Shannon, of course, played right field on the Cardinals 1964 World Series championship team, managed by Johnny Keane. Cardinals fans will enjoy White's chapter dealing with the championship run, in the aftermath of the firing of general manager Bing Devine.

"That was a team," White recalled. "Today, you have individuals making up a team. But our team was a team. We played together. We would sacrifice. All of us could run, just about. Cardinals always were great on the bases. We'd take the extra base. We'd go from first to third on a base hit; we'd score on a short sacrifice fly, and the other teams knew that. It got them out of their regular routines. Now, you just sit around and wait for home runs. That's OK. I like home runs. I just like to win."

White attributes the team's camaraderie to drastic changes the Cardinals had made during spring training in the early 1960s: integrating their team hotel in Florida, a deeply segregated state in those days. The change, White says, allowed the team to gel as the players really got to know one another off the field.

"Our kids lived there; our wives lived there," White said. "My then-wife had a sort of kindergarten for the young kids. The wives spent time together because it was just a small complex. When we came back [from training], Bob Gibson and I would go get the steaks, and we'd cook the steaks or maybe Ken Boyer would go get the steaks and Bob and I would cook them. And we would have a barbecue outside. We really became a family. We spent about a month together, and we found out, hey, we like each other. And I think that was one of the reasons that the team came together in '63 and finally won it in '64."

Here are more excerpts from the Beacon's interview with White:

What motivated you to write this book?

White: When I was broadcasting for the Yankees, I was sitting at an [autograph] table with a former Negro League player. And he was telling me how they played three games in one day, traveled by car and played in sweaty, dirty uniforms the last of those two. They had to find housing, they had to find something to eat. While we were talking about that Dave Winfield showed up. And Ken Griffey Sr. And Chris Chambliss and Willie Randolph. They stood around the table listening. And it dawned on me: They didn't know any of that history. And these were veteran players who happened to be black. And so I said as I got older, because I very seldom talk to the press, I should put my thoughts down for myself, for my family and for people who might be interested in reading them.

I came after Jackie Robinson and Don Newcombe and Roy Campanella who had to bear the original brunt of racial segregation. I was in the second group along with Frank Robinson, Vada Pinson and even Willie Mays who had it just a bit better. There were still problems: overt discrimination in spring training in Florida and covert discrimination out in Arizona.

And I thought this would be a good book to write also for kids who grew up like I did with no father in the family, not in poverty but in public housing with a grandmother and a mother who stressed education and just told me flat out, you've got to be two or three times better than the people with whom you are competing. And to get an education. And you're not going to work in the steel mills like your uncles. Although working in the steel mills certainly wasn't a bad occupation for a family coming up from Florida who had worked in the cotton fields. They all eventually saved money, got married, had children, bought their own homes. Set good examples.

The book has some intense passages about the discrimination you faced, particularly when you played in the South in the minor leagues. Was it difficult to write about that?

White: I just told the truth. Of course I had to recall the feelings [about playing] in the South. And to be quite honest I watered that down a little because I was extremely upset about what was going on. Though I was upset I didn't show it, and I just used it to play better and to perform better.

Let's face it, back then I could have been hurt and nothing would have been said about it by the police at that time. I could have disappeared. We played the one game in North Carolina, and I gave the crowd the finger and they had 400 or 500 people out there. And looking back now if my team hadn't surrounded me and we all came out with bats, something bad could have happened there. They weren't there to clap for me as I came out of our dressing room. But at that point I wasn't afraid. I was never afraid of playing down there.

You make the point that you could have walked away from baseball at any point, that you had no emotional attachment to the sport and that it was just a job to you.

White: I was making a living. I knew I could do something else. It was that simple. I didn't have to play baseball. If they were upset with me, that's fine. I'll stay at home. That's what I did when I didn't like a contract. You see the figures. We're talking about money in the hundreds not in the millions like they're talking about today. Today's players have more freedom than we had back then; they don't have the reserve clause.

You say St. Louis baseball fans are the best in baseball. Why?

White: They're the best fans in that the players can do no wrong. If you play in Philadelphia or New York, you can do something wrong. I played for nine years [in St. Louis], and I've struck out four times in a row -- I've done a lot of things that didn't help the team. But the fans were always with you. They never booed you in St. Louis. The press was always with you. I don't know what they're like now, but I was surprised when I got traded to the Phillies that the press was sometimes antagonistic.

What do you want kids to take away from your book?

White: I remember once visiting a home for kids who were having problems. I gave them my background, which was probably the same background they had. They didn't believe me. They seemed to think that I was just placed on the field to play for the Phillies. They didn't know what it took to go to the minor leagues, to compete against other players, to handle the press. Their feeling was that Bill White is a baseball player. He's always been a baseball player. He didn't have to work to be a baseball player, and he's got it made.

I talked to them about my being born out of wedlock and having a grandmother and mother who pushed me and told me to get an education. And going through what I went through in the South and how I used that to become a better person and player. They can do the same thing I did, and anything else on their part is an excuse.

You say you've had three careers: baseball player, broadcaster and league executive. Which was your favorite?

White: My favorite would be broadcasting, the 18 years with [Phil] Rizzuto. I was completely independent. I could say what I wanted to say. I had gotten to the point where I could almost work when and where I wanted to work. I had a lot of freedom.

That was a fun chapter to read.

White: We had fun.

If your favorite career was broadcasting, what was your second favorite?

White: The second probably was the job I had with the National League. Because the feeling was I got the job because of my color. But in the five years I spent in that job, there are almost zero mistakes. That takes a toll on you. Nobody can say anything about the results the National League had during those five years: expansion, umpires, players. We got through all of that.

Is baseball third?

White: I don't know if it comes in at all. It's just something I don't dwell on. I can go back and talk about broadcasting with Rizzuto and you can see how that chapter turned out. That was fun. I can go back and talk about what I did from a business or decision point in the National League, and I'm proud of that. Baseball is just something I did physically -- and it was a job. I compartmentalize. You do it and you move on.

You write about the controversies regarding steroid usage and Pete Rose and gambling. You're probably tired of getting questions about that ....

White: What do you want to know? [He laughs.] What are you setting me up for?

Well, the question in St. Louis; should steroid use keep Mark McGwire out of the Hall of Fame?

White: I will preface this by saying that steroids were not illegal then. And unlike [Pete] Rose, he's still on baseball's eligibility list. Pete is not because he obviously broke a very, very strict baseball rule of not gambling on the game and affecting the winning and losing.

Baseball didn't have laws in place to prohibit steroids. These guys took steroids to play better. That might also include setting records, but they took those things that were not illegal at the time to play better personally and to help their team win. I can understand that because I was given all kinds of shots of novocaine. I was given other drugs, some legal and some illegal. I was given shots to play, and I didn't know what that was going to do to me later on in my life.

The press and the people who vote on the Hall of Fame credentials will make that decision about whether or not they deserve to be in. Steroid use is now illegal, and I would go further than they have now if they want to really get to the problem. If you're caught the first time, you get a 50-game suspension. If they had a test that would prove that steroids are in your system, you just don't get a contract. It would have to be a severe test.

While in St. Louis, you'll probably get asked about large player salaries and about Albert Pujols resigning with the Cardinals.

White: It's all relative. If the owners have that kind of money now, they ought to pay it. Pujols is worth whatever he can ask for and whatever the club can afford.

Mary Delach Leonard is a veteran journalist who joined the St. Louis Beacon staff in April 2008 after a 17-year career at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, where she was a reporter and an editor in the features section. Her work has been cited for awards by the Missouri Associated Press Managing Editors, the Missouri Press Association and the Illinois Press Association. In 2010, the Bar Association of Metropolitan St. Louis honored her with a Spirit of Justice Award in recognition of her work on the housing crisis. Leonard began her newspaper career at the Belleville News-Democrat after earning a degree in mass communications from Southern Illinois University-Edwardsville, where she now serves as an adjunct faculty member. She is partial to pomeranians and Cardinals.