“Royal Treatment: Jackie Robinson, Montreal, and the Breaking of Baseball’s Color Barrier”
The author: Sean J. McLaughlin The details: University of Nebraska Press, 296 pages, $36.95, released April 1, ’26 The links:Publishers website, Bookshop.org
A Jack Robinson Day preamble
Only a year ago, as we rounded up the book reviews for Jack Robinson MLB Appreciation Day — or however they’re selling it — the disgust over crude governmental redaction of all things DEI was front and center. It may seem like such a long time has passed. But it’s still lingering.
What would Jack Robinson had done if he was invited with the Dodgers’ championship team to be vetted in the Trump White House? What would his reaction be if he saw that a bio on his World War II military requirement that’s heralding him on the U.S. Department of Defense’s website had been taken down “by mistake” during a Trump-mandated cleansing history.
What could the Dodgers players do, as they were being “honored” for their 2024 World Series triumph, in protest to mark the occasion — all wear No. 42 jerseys? Give Trump a 42 jersey?
It was all the wishy-washy white washing that was abhorrent, and called out.
The irony of this public service announcement is positioning Jackie Robinson next to Bob Feller. In 1947, Feller, an established star pitcher for the Cleveland Indians, publicly expressed skepticism about Robinson’s ability to succeed in the major leagues, predicting he would not be able to hit elite pitching. Feller later observed Robinson with admiration for his courage and composure under extreme pressure, acknowledging his tremendous impact on the game. They were inducted together in the Baseball Hall of Fame Class of 1962.
When the Dodgers were recently in DC-adjacent territory over the Easter weekend to face the Washington Nationals, they said “a scheduling conflict” precluded them from making a Trump/Easter Egg roll re-visit to mark their 2025 title. Maybe they’ll reconnect sometime later in the season when some of the push back dies down. Hopefully not.
This is the latest post for an ongoing media project — SoCal Sports History 101: The Prime Numbers from 00 to 99 that Uniformly, Uniquely and Unapologetically Reveal The Narrative of Our Region’s Athletic Heritage. Pick a number and highlight an athlete — person, place or thing — most obviously connected to it by fame and fortune, someone who isn’t so obvious, and then take a deeper dive into the most interesting story tied to it. It’s a combination of star power, achievement, longevity, notoriety, and, above all, what makes that athlete so Southern California. Quirkiness and notoriety factor in. And it should open itself to more discussion and debate — which is what sports is best at doing.
The most obvious choices for No. 28:
= Anthony Davis: USC football, Southern California Sun, Los Angeles Rams and Los Angeles Express via San Fernando High School = Jack Robinson: UCLA football = Bert Blyleven: California Angels = Albie Pearson: Los Angeles/California Angels = Wes Parker: Los Angeles Dodgers = Pedro Guerrero: Los Angeles Dodgers
The not-so-obvious choices for No. 28:
= Mike Marshall: Los Angeles Dodgers = Rui Hachimura: Los Angeles Lakers
The most interesting story for No. 28: Jack Robinson: UCLA football running back/defensive back (1939 to 1941) Southern California map pinpoints: Pasadena, L.A. Coliseum, Westwood
If the only number you associate with Jack Robinson is the No. 42 — the one randomly handed out by the Brooklyn Dodgers when he made his Major League Baseball debut in 1947 — that’s understandable and relatable.
The Pasadena native wore No. 42 for 10 MLB seasons, none of them in Los Angeles as a Dodger, retiring just before their move from Brooklyn. That span was just enough actually to qualify for entrance into the Baseball Hall of Fame, based on their most basic qualification standards.
Forty-two has been codified in many ways to represent him as well as anyone who believes in social justice reform and restitution on behalf of the African American race.
The thing is, Robinson wouldn’t have been in that position had he not made a name for himself as an athlete — with his given first name of Jack — wearing No. 28 and starring as a football player at UCLA.
A multi-sided plaque sits on the curb at the property where 121 Pepper Street in Pasadena would have been Jack and Mack Robinson’s home growing up, from 1922 to 1946. The home site is less than two miles away from the Rose Bowl.
A four-sport athlete at John Muir High in Pasadena, Robinson first made his way to Pasadena City College. His time at UCLA in Westwood was brief, but impactful.
What number did he wear for the UCLA baseball team during his only season of 1940? No one has evidence to show that it was 42. Or any other number. This appears to be the only photo of him in a Bruins baseball jersey, in the team photo, far left.
At Pasadena City College, according to the California Community Colleges website, Robinson batted .417 with 43 runs scored in 24 games in 1938. UCLA records say Robinson posted a .097 batting average in 1940, which included getting four hits and stealing home twice among four bases stolen in one game. He also reportedly stole home 19 times.
A Robinson UCLA replica football jersey sells at Ebbets Field Flannels (of all company names) for $350.
He wore No. 18 as a UCLA All-Conference basketball player.
As a football player, he made some extraordinary headlines.
First, at PCC, Robinson wore No. 55 in football — that’s what he’s wearing on a statue outside the Rose Bowl honoring that part of his life. Robinson still owns a school record for the longest run from scrimmage, 99 yards.
But for the two years he played football at UCLA, No. 28 became quite magical.