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PrintableShanti1 said: mdiver said: cleaver? pardon my accent...hehe  
Does my correcting you make you want me?  hehe.... 
yes your spell check abilities make me hot!! [Edited 4/14/07 9:54am] Normally i laugh em in to bed.....you must be special  | |
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FunkMistress said: mdiver said: cleaver?
Does my correcting you make you want me? Shut up you, it was very cleaver, Shanti.  Button it hippie
Herbs?  | |
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mdiver said: FunkMistress said: Shut up you, it was very cleaver, Shanti. Button it hippie
Herbs? I bet Jackie Robinson used herbs, he was a cool-ass motherfucker.  The Normal Whores Club | |
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mdiver said: FunkMistress said: Shut up you, it was very cleaver, Shanti. Button it hippie
Herbs? hey now...don't go messing with Erin- stick with picking on Jersey..or is he busy painting his nails again or was it rubbing on some moisturizer? | |
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FunkMistress said: mdiver said: Button it hippie
Herbs? I bet Jackie Robinson used herbs, he was a cool-ass motherfucker. THE herb is different....if you were advocating the mix of that and alcohol then you too would be a cool ass motherfucker....what you are sayin is more  than freak | |
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FunkMistress said: mdiver said: Button it hippie
Herbs? I bet Jackie Robinson used herbs, he was a cool-ass motherfucker. I imagine he was cool..sorry Phil only knows about the herbs in his spice rack...he cannot help you when it comes to understanding cool [Edited 4/14/07 10:03am] | |
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Shanti1 said: FunkMistress said: I bet Jackie Robinson used herbs, he was a cool-ass motherfucker. I imagine he was cool..sorry Phil only knows about the herbs in his spice rack...he cannot help you when it comes to understanding cool
[Edited 4/14/07 10:03am] Yeah at heart i am a i just try and act cool...that is why i am trying to interact with you 3..... i wanna be in the gang | |
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mdiver said: Shanti1 said: I imagine he was cool..sorry Phil only knows about the herbs in his spice rack...he cannot help you when it comes to understanding cool
[Edited 4/14/07 10:03am] Yeah at heart i am a i just try and act cool...that is why i am trying to interact with you 3..... i wanna be in the gang AWWWW we love you  | |
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Shanti1 said: mdiver said: Yeah at heart i am a i just try and act cool...that is why i am trying to interact with you 3..... i wanna be in the gang AWWWW we love you | |
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Shanti1 said: Much love and props to Jackie Robinson- I must say I respect the atheletes from back in the day- they were not in it for the $
They also got ripped off back in the day. That's why I'm glad these cats are getting the big money now. They have a unique skill, they generate tons of money and they put tremendous strain on their bodies. Jackie Robinson's one of those rare athletes that transcend the game. Look at the impact he had on American society. There aren't that many on his level(except for Ali & Babe Ruth). | |
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july said: Thank God.
 .jpg)
 | |
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 Jackie Robinson  #42 | |
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statuesqque said: Jackie Robinson #42 | |
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jerseykrs said: Sunday marks the 60th anniversary of Jack Roosevelt Robinson's Major League Baseball debut. He became the first African-American Major League Baseball player of the modern era in 1947.
You beat me to it jerseykrs.
Even though I was a little kid when Walter O'Malley packed up the Brooklyn Dodgers and moved them to La-La land, I could feel this pervasive sense of betrayal that hovered over the city for many years thereafter. In the Black community Jackie Robinson was like a god. Their psyche rose and fell with his every at bat. 
...Jackie Robinson steals home in game 1 of the 1955 World Series. 1955 the year the Brooklyn Dodgers beat the New York Yankees... 
...to win their first World Series. (Jackie Robinson - top row, far right) =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= But there was more to Jackie Robinson than just baseball. From a Time Magazine The Most Important People of the Century article. Jackie Robinson He thrilled fans, shattered baseball's color barrier and changed the face of the nation By HENRY AARON Monday, June 14, 1999 I was 14 years old when I first saw Jackie Robinson. It was the spring of 1948, the year after Jackie changed my life by breaking baseball's color line. His team, the Brooklyn Dodgers, made a stop in my hometown of Mobile, Ala., while barnstorming its way north to start the season, and while he was there, Jackie spoke to a big crowd of black folks over on Davis Avenue. I think he talked about segregation, but I didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth. Jackie Robinson was such a hero to me that I couldn't do anything but gawk at him. They say certain people are bigger than life, but Jackie Robinson is the only man I've known who truly was. In 1947 life in America — at least my America, and Jackie's — was segregation. It was two worlds that were afraid of each other. There were separate schools for blacks and whites, separate restaurants, separate hotels, separate drinking fountains and separate baseball leagues. Life was unkind to black people who tried to bring those worlds together. It could be hateful. But Jackie Robinson, God bless him, was bigger than all of that. Jackie Robinson had to be bigger than life. He had to be bigger than the Brooklyn teammates who got up a petition to keep him off the ball club, bigger than the pitchers who threw at him or the base runners who dug their spikes into his shin, bigger than the bench jockeys who hollered for him to carry their bags and shine their shoes, bigger than the so-called fans who mocked him with mops on their heads and wrote him death threats. When Branch Rickey first met with Jackie about joining the Dodgers, he told him that for three years he would have to turn the other cheek and silently suffer all the vile things that would come his way. Believe me, it wasn't Jackie's nature to do that. He was a fighter, the proudest and most competitive person I've ever seen. This was a man who, as a lieutenant in the Army, risked a court-martial by refusing to sit in the back of a military bus. But when Rickey read to him from The Life of Christ, Jackie understood the wisdom and the necessity of forbearance. To this day, I don't know how he withstood the things he did without lashing back. I've been through a lot in my time, and I consider myself to be a patient man, but I know I couldn't have done what Jackie did. I don't think anybody else could have done it. Somehow, though, Jackie had the strength to suppress his instincts, to sacrifice his pride for his people's. It was an incredible act of selflessness that brought the races closer together than ever before and shaped the dreams of an entire generation. Before Jackie Robinson broke the color line, I wasn't permitted even to think about being a professional baseball player. I once mentioned something to my father about it, and he said, "Ain't no colored ballplayers." There were the Negro Leagues, of course, where the Dodgers discovered Jackie, but my mother, like most, would rather her son be a schoolteacher than a Negro Leaguer. All that changed when Jackie put on No. 42 and started stealing bases in a Brooklyn uniform. Jackie's character was much more important than his batting average, but it certainly helped that he was a great ballplayer, a .311 career hitter whose trademark was rattling pitchers and fielders with his daring base running. He wasn't the best Negro League talent at the time he was chosen, and baseball wasn't really his best sport — he had been a football and track star at UCLA — but he played the game with a ferocious creativity that gave the country a good idea of what it had been missing all those years. With Jackie in the infield, the Dodgers won six National League pennants. I believe every black person in America had a piece of those pennants. There's never been another ballplayer who touched people as Jackie did. The only comparable athlete, in my experience, was Joe Louis. The difference was that Louis competed against white men; Jackie competed with them as well. He was taking us over segregation's threshold into a new land whose scenery made every black person stop and stare in reverence. We were all with Jackie. We slid into every base that he swiped, ducked at every fastball that hurtled toward his head. The circulation of the Pittsburgh Courier, the leading black newspaper, increased by 100,000 when it began reporting on him regularly. All over the country, black preachers would call together their congregations just to pray for Jackie and urge them to demonstrate the same forbearance that he did. Later in his career, when the "Great Experiment" had proved to be successful and other black players had joined him, Jackie allowed his instincts to take over in issues of race. He began striking back and speaking out. And when Jackie Robinson spoke, every black player got the message. He made it clear to us that we weren't playing just for ourselves or for our teams; we were playing for our people. I don't think it's a coincidence that the black players of the late '50s and '60s — me, Roy Campanella, Monte Irvin, Willie Mays, Ernie Banks, Frank Robinson, Bob Gibson and others — dominated the National League. If we played as if we were on a mission, it was because Jackie Robinson had sent us out on one. Even after he retired in 1956 and was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1962, Jackie continued to chop along the path that was still a long way from being cleared. He campaigned for baseball to hire a black third-base coach, then a black manager. In 1969 he refused an invitation to play in an old-timers' game at Yankee Stadium to protest the lack of progress along those lines. One of the great players from my generation, Frank Robinson (who was related to Jackie only in spirit), finally became the first black manager, in 1975. Jackie was gone by then. His last public appearance was at the 1972 World Series, where he showed up with white hair, carrying a cane and going blind from diabetes. He died nine days later. Most of the black players from Jackie's day were at the funeral, but I was appalled by how few of the younger players showed up to pay him tribute. At the time, I was 41 home runs short of Babe Ruth's career record, and when Jackie died, I really felt that it was up to me to keep his dream alive. I was inspired to dedicate my home-run record to the same great cause to which Jackie dedicated his life. I'm still inspired by Jackie Robinson. Hardly a day goes by that I don't think of him. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Thank you Mr. Robinson... 
... 
tA  Tribal Disorder
http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431 "Ya see, we're not interested in what you know...but what you are willing to learn. C'mon y'all." | |
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theAudience said: jerseykrs said: Sunday marks the 60th anniversary of Jack Roosevelt Robinson's Major League Baseball debut. He became the first African-American Major League Baseball player of the modern era in 1947.
You beat me to it jerseykrs.
Even though I was a little kid when Walter O'Malley packed up the Brooklyn Dodgers and moved them to La-La land, I could feel this pervasive sense of betrayal that hovered over the city for many years thereafter. In the Black community Jackie Robinson was like a god. Their psyche rose and fell with his every at bat.
...Jackie Robinson steals home in game 1 of the 1955 World Series. 1955 the year the Brooklyn Dodgers beat the New York Yankees...
...to win their first World Series. (Jackie Robinson - top row, far right) =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= But there was more to Jackie Robinson than just baseball. From a Time Magazine The Most Important People of the Century article. Jackie Robinson He thrilled fans, shattered baseball's color barrier and changed the face of the nation By HENRY AARON Monday, June 14, 1999 I was 14 years old when I first saw Jackie Robinson. It was the spring of 1948, the year after Jackie changed my life by breaking baseball's color line. His team, the Brooklyn Dodgers, made a stop in my hometown of Mobile, Ala., while barnstorming its way north to start the season, and while he was there, Jackie spoke to a big crowd of black folks over on Davis Avenue. I think he talked about segregation, but I didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth. Jackie Robinson was such a hero to me that I couldn't do anything but gawk at him. They say certain people are bigger than life, but Jackie Robinson is the only man I've known who truly was. In 1947 life in America — at least my America, and Jackie's — was segregation. It was two worlds that were afraid of each other. There were separate schools for blacks and whites, separate restaurants, separate hotels, separate drinking fountains and separate baseball leagues. Life was unkind to black people who tried to bring those worlds together. It could be hateful. But Jackie Robinson, God bless him, was bigger than all of that. Jackie Robinson had to be bigger than life. He had to be bigger than the Brooklyn teammates who got up a petition to keep him off the ball club, bigger than the pitchers who threw at him or the base runners who dug their spikes into his shin, bigger than the bench jockeys who hollered for him to carry their bags and shine their shoes, bigger than the so-called fans who mocked him with mops on their heads and wrote him death threats. When Branch Rickey first met with Jackie about joining the Dodgers, he told him that for three years he would have to turn the other cheek and silently suffer all the vile things that would come his way. Believe me, it wasn't Jackie's nature to do that. He was a fighter, the proudest and most competitive person I've ever seen. This was a man who, as a lieutenant in the Army, risked a court-martial by refusing to sit in the back of a military bus. But when Rickey read to him from The Life of Christ, Jackie understood the wisdom and the necessity of forbearance. To this day, I don't know how he withstood the things he did without lashing back. I've been through a lot in my time, and I consider myself to be a patient man, but I know I couldn't have done what Jackie did. I don't think anybody else could have done it. Somehow, though, Jackie had the strength to suppress his instincts, to sacrifice his pride for his people's. It was an incredible act of selflessness that brought the races closer together than ever before and shaped the dreams of an entire generation. Before Jackie Robinson broke the color line, I wasn't permitted even to think about being a professional baseball player. I once mentioned something to my father about it, and he said, "Ain't no colored ballplayers." There were the Negro Leagues, of course, where the Dodgers discovered Jackie, but my mother, like most, would rather her son be a schoolteacher than a Negro Leaguer. All that changed when Jackie put on No. 42 and started stealing bases in a Brooklyn uniform. Jackie's character was much more important than his batting average, but it certainly helped that he was a great ballplayer, a .311 career hitter whose trademark was rattling pitchers and fielders with his daring base running. He wasn't the best Negro League talent at the time he was chosen, and baseball wasn't really his best sport — he had been a football and track star at UCLA — but he played the game with a ferocious creativity that gave the country a good idea of what it had been missing all those years. With Jackie in the infield, the Dodgers won six National League pennants. I believe every black person in America had a piece of those pennants. There's never been another ballplayer who touched people as Jackie did. The only comparable athlete, in my experience, was Joe Louis. The difference was that Louis competed against white men; Jackie competed with them as well. He was taking us over segregation's threshold into a new land whose scenery made every black person stop and stare in reverence. We were all with Jackie. We slid into every base that he swiped, ducked at every fastball that hurtled toward his head. The circulation of the Pittsburgh Courier, the leading black newspaper, increased by 100,000 when it began reporting on him regularly. All over the country, black preachers would call together their congregations just to pray for Jackie and urge them to demonstrate the same forbearance that he did. Later in his career, when the "Great Experiment" had proved to be successful and other black players had joined him, Jackie allowed his instincts to take over in issues of race. He began striking back and speaking out. And when Jackie Robinson spoke, every black player got the message. He made it clear to us that we weren't playing just for ourselves or for our teams; we were playing for our people. I don't think it's a coincidence that the black players of the late '50s and '60s — me, Roy Campanella, Monte Irvin, Willie Mays, Ernie Banks, Frank Robinson, Bob Gibson and others — dominated the National League. If we played as if we were on a mission, it was because Jackie Robinson had sent us out on one. Even after he retired in 1956 and was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1962, Jackie continued to chop along the path that was still a long way from being cleared. He campaigned for baseball to hire a black third-base coach, then a black manager. In 1969 he refused an invitation to play in an old-timers' game at Yankee Stadium to protest the lack of progress along those lines. One of the great players from my generation, Frank Robinson (who was related to Jackie only in spirit), finally became the first black manager, in 1975. Jackie was gone by then. His last public appearance was at the 1972 World Series, where he showed up with white hair, carrying a cane and going blind from diabetes. He died nine days later. Most of the black players from Jackie's day were at the funeral, but I was appalled by how few of the younger players showed up to pay him tribute. At the time, I was 41 home runs short of Babe Ruth's career record, and when Jackie died, I really felt that it was up to me to keep his dream alive. I was inspired to dedicate my home-run record to the same great cause to which Jackie dedicated his life. I'm still inspired by Jackie Robinson. Hardly a day goes by that I don't think of him. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Thank you Mr. Robinson...
...
tA Tribal Disorder
http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431  | |
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july said: Thank God.
For Jackie Robinson! | |
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jerseykrs said: ThreadCula said: He played himself in his own movie. I've seen it twice
In 1941, he became the first athlete in the history of UCLA to letter in four sports (baseball, football, basketball and track) in the same year. Damn!  As many times as I've seen this man I must have forgotten how super cute he was
  I never met you, but I LOVE you & I will forever!! Thank you for being YOU - my little Princey, the best to EVER do it | |
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I'm assisting on a historical documentary. There's a scene where Martin Luther King Jr., a big baseball fan, watches Jackie Robinson on TV at the world series. We've been watching old TV reels of those games. | |
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heartbeatocean said: I'm assisting on a historical documentary. There's a scene where Martin Luther King Jr., a big baseball fan, watches Jackie Robinson on TV at the world series. We've been watching old TV reels of those games.
Very cool.
Jackie... 
and Martin. tA Tribal Disorder
http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431 "Ya see, we're not interested in what you know...but what you are willing to learn. C'mon y'all." | |
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CalhounSq said: Damn! As many times as I've seen this man I must have forgotten how super cute he was
...Here's one for your scrapbook. tA Tribal Disorder
http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431 "Ya see, we're not interested in what you know...but what you are willing to learn. C'mon y'all." | |
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theAudience said: CalhounSq said: Damn! As many times as I've seen this man I must have forgotten how super cute he was
...Here's one for your scrapbook. tA Tribal Disorder
http://www.soundclick.com...dID=182431 He makes me wanna use the word "dreamy"  I never met you, but I LOVE you & I will forever!! Thank you for being YOU - my little Princey, the best to EVER do it | |
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jerseykrs said: Sunday marks the 60th anniversary of Jack Roosevelt Robinson's Major League Baseball debut. He became the first African-American Major League Baseball player of the modern era in 1947. For those that don't know the story of this man, please take a moment to look over his wikipedia page. It is by no means a complete tale of of "Jackie", but will give you an idea to the tremendous character he had.
http://en.wikipedia.org/w...e_robinson 
More than 150 players will don the retired number "42" on Sunday to pay tribute to the legendary hall of famer. ESPN is covering the pre-game ceremony which includes: Hank Aaron and Frank Robinson will throw out first pitches as part of the pregame celebration of the 60th anniversary of Jackie Robinson's breaking the color barrier Sunday. The festivities will begin with a video tribute to Robinson, followed by an "Ode to Jackie" reading by Courtney B. Vance, Marlon Wayans and Angela Bassett. The Brookinaires Gospel Choir from the First African Methodist Episcopal Church, the oldest black church in Los Angeles, will perform "Oh Happy Day," and Jennifer Hudson, who starred in "Dreamgirls" and won the Oscar for best supporting actress, will sing the national anthem. The Dodgers will have two 63-foot-tall murals of Robinson on the outside of the stadium, and players and coaches will wear No. 42 decals on their caps as well as wear the uniform number of the former Brooklyn Dodgers Hall-of-Fame infielder. Check this out: http://losangeles.dodgers...dex_07.jsp In addition, Dodger pitcher Brett Tomko did a charcoal picture and a poster of it is a give-away this day. I'm taking my 2 boys. ----- "I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me... all I ask is that you respect me as a human being." | |
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CalhounSq said: jerseykrs said: In 1941, he became the first athlete in the history of UCLA to letter in four sports (baseball, football, basketball and track) in the same year. Damn! As many times as I've seen this man I must have forgotten how super cute he was
Yeah, that picture really caught my attention too. | |
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heartbeatocean said: CalhounSq said: Damn! As many times as I've seen this man I must have forgotten how super cute he was
Yeah, that picture really caught my attention too. | |
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july said: july said: Thank God.
Those who tried to derail the dream came to realize life and history were not on their side. But instead on the side of fair play. God bless Jackie and the dream.
He was a man amongst men. A man of dignity. A man of triumph. | |
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| Nice images of Mr. Robinson 42
Mr. Robinson was a pure athlete. "I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me... all I ask is that you respect me as a human being." ~Jackie Roosevelt Robinson   National Funk League✮✮ | |
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very touching and classy pre-game ... Vinny Scully was on the field, a rarity ... ceremonial first pitch by Frank Robinson and Hank Aaron, the latter was "honored" by the crowd chanting "Barry sucks" ... it was a trip to see every Dodger wear 42 ... and yeah the Dodgers did win | |
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