Progression is made on Jackie Robinson's legacy

"Have you seen what we've got now?" asks Don Newcombe, sitting proudly in the stands at Dodger Stadium on a Wednesday night that was bathed in symbolism and dedicated to his great friend: Jackie Robinson. "We've got some real numbers now. I wasn't even really aware of it until Frank McCourt told me the other day . . . we're making progress."

Newcombe was referring to the six African Americans who have begun this season wearing Dodgers blue: James Loney, Juan Pierre, Matt Kemp, Cory Wade, James McDonald and Orlando Hudson.

Progress? Seen from a certain angle, certainly.

Sixty-two years after Robinson broke the baseball color barrier, forward motion on baseball's diversity front -- judging, at least, by total numbers of African Americans -- comes in jolting, jarring drips and drabs.

Note that in 1959, African Americans represented 17.25% of all major leaguers. That number kept rising, only to suffer a hard, sharp fall after the early 1980s.

Ironically, the Dodgers were a bellwether; by the 50th anniversary, in 1997, there was not a single American-born black player in their everyday lineup. Not one.

According to a new study from the University of Central Florida's Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sports, Major League Baseball's homegrown diversity reached a low in 2007, when only 8.2% of players, or 98, were black Americans. Last year that number rose to 10.25%, or 121 players, the most since 1995. The percentage in the NBA? Roughly 75%.

So, back to that number again: six.

Six African American Dodgers is a humble sign that baseball's push to boost inner-city participation, and its efforts to show a more welcoming side with events such as Wednesday's -- every major leaguer wearing Robinson's No. 42 -- may be having an effect.

"Baseball is doing the right things," says Newcombe, 82, still large and imposing and positive. He cites himself as an example. Before this season began, he was made a special advisor to McCourt, the Dodgers' chairman.

"The Dodgers have always showed me great respect," he says. "But this, this brings a modicum of great respect, proper respect. Think about it, a black man in a position like this . . . think of what it says to people."

Newcombe can't stop telling stories. Because he was one of the first African Americans to play in the major leagues, because he was Robinson's close friend and confidant, he has wisdom deep in his bones and perspective few if any can match. He talks, I listen.