ATLANTA — As one of the patchy-bearded faces of a game that once represented Black progress and excellence in this country, Mookie Betts occupies a rare position in the modern professional sports landscape: a Black American baseball superstar. Betts feels a responsibility accompanying his unicorn status, but he also recognizes the forces that make him such a rarity are bigger than he is.
Mookie Betts knows he can’t save baseball. He just plays like he can.
The Dodgers star still wants more people who look like him at the stadium, but he understands all the forces that stand in the way.
11 min
By Michael Lee
Baseball’s hold on the Black community has loosened over generations, to the point that vanishing representation among Black Americans in the sport has gone from noticeable to concerning.
But while his home runs on uppercut swings and his leaping outfield catches serve as a live-action billboard to anyone who might find inspiration, the Los Angeles Dodgers star doesn’t pretend to overstate his influence.
“I’m not trying to come here and be the savior for baseball or for the culture,” Betts said.
Betts understands the random circumstances that contributed to his being 11 seasons into a career with a Hall of Fame trajectory. He didn’t learn to love baseball until he was getting paid to play it. Like many from his generation, the soon-to-be 32-year-old’s first choice would have been a career in basketball. But any pursuits of hoops had limitations.
“I’m 5-9, 170 pounds. Not many guys like me make it to the NBA,” Betts said with a chuckle. Baseball “kind of chose me.”
A three-sport standout at Overton High in Nashville, Betts never developed an affinity for one sport over the other — until the Boston Red Sox, enamored with his talent and potential, selected him in the fifth round of the 2011 draft and offered a $750,000 bonus, nearly $600,000 above scale at the time.
