Georgia Online Formative Assessment Resource (GOFAR)

RCPS 11-12 ELA RL4

Name:______Date: ______

1. Please read both selections below and then answer the questions that follow. A Man of History

More than 60 years have passed since Jackie Robinson trotted to first base and broke Major League Baseball’s color barrier. In a nation so familiar with Michael Jordan, Hank Aaron, Muhammad Ali, and many other outstanding African American athletes, it is hard to measure the impact that Robinson’s moment in history had on American society. Born in Georgia in 1919 to sharecropper parents, Jack Roosevelt Robinson was raised by his mother in a largely segregated community. He moved to Pasadena, California, as a child, where he grew up in poverty. An excellent athlete, he won local acclaim and forged a strong personality. At Muir High School, Jackie lettered in four sports: football, basketball, baseball, and track. He also played on the tennis team, winning the 1936 Pacific Coast Negro Tournament. Robinson further sharpened his athletic talents at Pasadena Junior College, where he was also recognized for outstanding citizenship and scholarship. Jackie continued to excel at UCLA, becoming the first athlete to earn varsity letters in four sports, but financial difficulties caused him to leave college shortly before graduation and take a job with the National Youth Administration. Drafted into the Army after Pearl Harbor, he applied and eventually became one of the few African Americans accepted in Officer Candidate School. In 1944, in an incident that foreshadowed the future, Robinson refused to move to the back of an Army bus and was court-martialed. He was acquitted and received an honorable discharge. In 1945, the Kansas City Monarchs of the Negro Leagues offered Jackie a contract to play professional baseball, and Robinson started on the path to history. Despite poor conditions and low pay, the Negro Leagues were home to some of the greatest baseball players of all time. Robinson’s hitting and stellar fielding earned him a spot in the all-star game, where he caught the attention of Branch Rickey, president and general manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers. Rickey had been searching for an African American player to join the Dodgers and “break the color line” in Major League Baseball. Robinson traveled to New York City in August 1945 to meet with Rickey. During the meeting, Rickey tested Robinson with racial insults and warned of the threats and frustrations he would face. By the end of the interview, Rickey knew he’d found the player he was looking for—a brilliant athlete with courage and pride. He offered Jackie a contract. The Dodgers saved the blockbuster news until October 1945—the signing of an African American ballplayer to play in the major leagues. In 1946, Robinson joined the Montreal Royals, becoming the first African American in baseball’s minor leagues. Then on April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson trotted to his position at first base for the Dodgers, and an era had ended. Despite a crowd nearly half African American, Robinson’s reception at Ebbets Field was mixed. Most Dodger fans cheered wildly, but people opposed to the integration booed and yelled insults. Reception around the league was generally worse. Fans and players from St. Louis to Cincinnati to Philadelphia kept up a constant barrage of abuse and targeted him with rough, physical play. Jackie played through it all. Boosted by support from teammates, especially Pee Wee Reese, Robinson controlled his temper and allowed his athletic talents to respond to critics. Soon he was pounding the ball—often after a pitch aimed at his head—finishing the year as the team leader in hits and tied for most home runs. Robinson also demonstrated phenomenal fielding and ran the bases with abandon to become the league leader in stolen bases. When the dust settled, the Dodgers had won the National League pennant by five games and then lost to the Yankees in the World Series. Robinson set another milestone when he was selected the first-ever Rookie of the Year. Robinson played nine more seasons in Brooklyn, leading the Dodgers to six league titles and the franchise’s first World Series victory in 1955. He retired with stellar career statistics: a .311 batting average, 137 home runs, 734 runs batted in, and 197 stolen bases. He was the 1949 Most Valuable Player and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962. After a successful business career, Robinson died of a heart attack in 1972. In 1997, Robinson’s number 42 was retired by all major league teams and displayed in their stadiums. Jackie Robinson’s influence goes far beyond statistics and awards, far beyond baseball itself. Robinson’s breaking of the baseball color line, together with President Harry Truman’s desegregation of the armed forces, rocketed the civil rights movement forward. His successful integration of baseball opened the door for other minority players and athletes in other professional sports. More importantly, it encouraged support of the NAACP and started dialogues between African Americans and whites. His pioneering accomplishments helped change American history. A Moment to Remember

My dad loved baseball. He called himself a student of the game, which meant that he was a voracious reader of baseball periodicals, memorizing statistics for players and teams, knowing the standings for both the American and National leagues, and following his favorite team, then known as the Brooklyn Dodgers, with undying loyalty. I was 16 in 1947—a time when girls were expected to wear dresses and be demure, but I preferred to go to games with Dad. I acquired his love for baseball, and he often took me with him to see his beloved Dodgers play at Ebbets Field. True to his serious approach to baseball, Dad was reserved when he attended games, acknowledging good play with polite applause but never deriding players or chiding umpires. I suppose you could characterize him as a gentleman fan. Of all the games he took me to at Ebbets Field, one stands out among the rest. I even remember the date: Sunday, May 25, 1947, when the Dodgers played the Philadelphia Phillies. We settled into our seats, and I filled in the lineups of both teams on my scorecard. Dad had taught me the complex and symbolic task of keeping score, and I reveled in recording accurate accounts of the games as they unfolded in front of us. As the Dodgers took the field, I noticed that the cheering from the home crowd was punctuated by racial epithets directed at the rookie first baseman, Jackie Robinson, and I was bewildered by it. Robinson had broken the color line in baseball that year and was playing well, but as Dad told me, some fans and players, including some from his own team, resented the presence of an African American player in the major leagues. Responding to the unseemly comments, Dad made a succinct analysis, “I guess the fans and his teammates can’t see that his uniform is the same as the other eight men’s out there.” I thought of my own situation as Robinson warmed up. Some of my classmates ostracized me because they didn’t think I was “girlish” enough. At times, I felt alone in high school. There were no sports for girls then, but I knew that I could shoot a basketball as accurately and run as fast and jump as high as any girl in school. In gym class, I could even beat some of the boys in tennis. Feeling alone and being denied opportunities, I mused, is difficult when you are surrounded by peers. As the game progressed, I focused with greater concentration on Robinson—an intense player, not smooth and fluid but explosive and aggressive. It was as if he were playing more than a game, with a desperate desire to excel beyond his limitations, and I felt a strange kinship with him. “Silence the catcalls, silence the bigots, silence the hatred,” I rhythmically repeated to myself as he came up to bat in the bottom of the eighth inning. With the count three balls and one strike, and the Dodgers clinging to a 4-3 lead, Robinson blasted the next pitch out of the park for a home run, his third hit of the day, which I noticed on my scorecard as I recorded the hit and brushed a tear from the page, blurring the statistics for the Dodgers. I heard only cheering as Robinson rounded the bases, crossed home plate, and trotted to the dugout, where all of his teammates stood and greeted him with handshakes and pats on the back. Dad turned to me and said, “That’s the first time his teammates have all celebrated his efforts. It’s a moment to remember.” The Dodgers won, 5-3, and as we walked out together, I said, “Great win for the Dodgers, right, Dad?” He looked ahead at the horde in front of us leaving the stadium, put his arm around my shoulder, and without looking at me said, “It was an even greater win for America, Kathy.” In my heart, I hoped there would be more.

Read these sentences from the story.

I thought of my own situation as Robinson warmed up. Some of my classmates ostracized me because they didn’t think I was “girlish” enough. Based on the context clues, explain the meaning of the word ostracized and why it is used to connect the

narrator’s experience with Robinson’s experience.

Use details from the text to support your answer. Answer with complete sentences, and use correct punctuation and grammar.