[SelzShoes]

As my family and I make the trip back from the easy chaos of spring training, I am struck by a lack of feeling for the Senators. It puzzled me from the Florida-Georgia border to the outskirts of the District of Columbia. As I thought about what type of joy or worry this edition of the Senators should bring, the reasons unfolded before me over my radio.

An advert for the Baltimore Athletics, a phrasing that will take much getting used to, encouraging the listener to turn their passions northward came over the radio. In the twenty years I have logged with the Senators—from Walter Johnson and Bucky Harris’s World Series clubs to the more recent struggles—my resolve and dedication to the Senators was unfailing.

But as the spring dragged on through meaningless games and meaningful conversations, I found myself paying more and more attention to the goings on in Arizona.

At first I could tell myself it was the allure of Babe Ruth’s first managing job dragging my attention westward. But as spring labored on I paid less and less attention to the teams the Senators would actually play and more and more on the Continental League. It took some days to realize why my allegiance has shifted northward.

Almost ten years ago, I wrote a piece in large part about a catcher, Josh Gibson, of tremendous talent; kept from the top level of baseball solely for the color of his skin. While the Senators and the rest of their league mates decided that in a world where traditions and practices were being overturned and challenged; they decided one tradition—a tradition of exclusion—was worth keeping. In essence, they kept the worst they had to offer the baseball public.

I do not delude myself into thinking Branch Rickey and the other general managers signed Negroes as proof of the goodness of their souls. The Continental is comprised of some of the weaker pre-war franchises; these signings were to produce a better product on the field. Personally, I am fine with that. Some of the best things to come into our lives are through a realization of the inability of the old ways to function.

On occasion I may still find myself at Griffith Stadium. As a reporter, I am expected to chronicle the doings of the city’s baseball team. If you want to find me as a fan; then you will need to travel to Baltimore.

Shirley Povich
Washington Post