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February is not supposed to be a month that we devote merely to getting ready for budding flowers, girls in sun dresses, or bars with outdoor patios. February is Black History Month, but frankly every month should be Black History Month, just like every day should be Mother's Day. In looking back at American history, it is folly to just try and pick one month out of the year to designate for a specific group of people. Why? Simply put, America was raised by all different types of people, no matter their race, background, or by what name they call God. So to designate one month to discuss America's history with race is a bit like suggesting we need one month to teach and remind us about our identity as a society, a nation, and our culture.

Coincidentally, February is also the month that Major League Baseball begins the start of its preseason activities, so one has to look at this month with a sense of irony given the decline of African American players in the Majors over the past several years. It begs the question, where have all the black baseball players gone? And most importantly, why?

Last summer, I conducted a crude and rather unofficial poll of roughly 100 young African American men from the ages of 12-30 here in NYC. The fundamental question was this: what are your three favorite sports to play? Almost every individual stated that basketball or football were his top two favorites, with most saying that either hockey or soccer was their third favorite sport to play. Now, I have lived in New York for five years and couldn't even tell you where to find a hockey rink, so that should give you a minor snippet of insight as to just what most young African Americans think of baseball. When I asked about baseball, many replied, "Yeah, baseball is alright, but that's for white and Latin guys, you know?"

Like most everything, the why is far more important than the what. The overwhelming reason most people gave was simple, and it's the same one my 30-year-old best friend gave: "None of my friends play baseball." Most also stated that the game is boring to watch, there wasn't enough action, or in some cases, there isn't anywhere to play. Now this is a small sample size in one city across the country, so take it for what it's worth. However, the amount of African Americans playing in baseball today does reflect this data. In a more in-depth poll by workers.org, roughly 8.3 percent of Major League Baseball is comprised of African Americans. For a point of comparison, in the 1970s that number was roughly 27 percent. That is an alarming drop. So this still begs the question, why?

Some would argue that baseball by nature is a game of subtleties, and that one has to come to appreciate baseball rather than get hooked from their first experience. That it is a game whose lineage is passed from father to son. In a recent interview, Jason Whitlock of Fox Sports dissected this very argument and offered a specific statistic: 70 percent of African Americans are born into single-mother homes, and the lack of a father could contribute to slumping black baseball players.

With all deference, I disagree. Just because a son or daughter is born without a traditional father, that doesn't mean that he or she doesn't not have a "father figure" in their lives. Personally, my father was not a baseball fan, and while I did have the prototypical father-son first trip to Fenway Park, baseball was not "passed down" as a typical father and son bonding experience. Nonetheless, baseball is perhaps my second favorite sport. So again, why has baseball seen it's popularity in the African American community plummet so much?

The Inner City and its Relation to Sport

Perhaps the reason that baseball has fallen out of favor with the black community is the same reason why basketball has become so popular. Of the major sports, only two have always been considered to be inner city sporting sanctuaries: basketball and boxing. If you go back through the history of demographics, these sports mirror the "faces" of inner city ghettos.

From the 1920s through the 1940s, most boxers were Jewish, Italian, or Irish. As these groups migrated from their native countries, they found themselves packed together in small quarters of major cities, and boxing offered a way out. The NBA was somewhat similar; upon the league's inception in 1946, most of its players were Jews for the same reason as boxing. As those groups left the inner city in the 1950s, a new population took their place, and guess what? The best boxers and basketball players in the 1950s and 1960s represented a new majority: working-class, African American families.

Might Jackie Robinson have become more of myth in the black community rather than the legend he should be?

From the 1920s to 1950s in America, slavery was officially over — kinda. There was this little thing called Jim Crow. So as Chris Rock put it: "Slavery ended roughly around 1965, or whenever your town started to act right." During this time, the South had a profound number of African Americans who populated mainly vast rural areas. Unlike other struggling minorities who were constrained by large concrete buildings, subways, and busy streets, the southern, less urban surroundings helped encourage baseball. So actually, there was a place to actually not just play stickball, but the landscape actually provided real fields and space for them to play baseball — hence the birth of the Negro Leagues.

So one could make the assertion that as the demographics of America's inner cities have changed, so too has its appetite for the particular sports that accompany main populous.

Baseball And Its Problems With Race

It's no secret that baseball has had its issues with race. Kenesaw Landis, the first commissioner of baseball, essentially made it his objective to uphold the Supreme Court ruling which asserted "Separate But Equal" (Plessey Vs. Ferguson), and did his dandiest to keep blacks out of the professional ranks.

Perhaps the most racist owner was Tom Yawkey of the Boston Red Sox, who had a chance to sign not only Jackie Robinson, but also the greatest baseball player ever, Willie Mays. The Red Sox were the last team to accept integration, bringing up Pumpsie Green in 1959, more than a decade after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier.

And who can forget Marge Schott and her beliefs towards black baseball players? Schott once stated before an owners' conference call: “I would never hire another n****r. I’d rather have a trained monkey working for me than a n****r.”

Another more memorable example would be former Dodger General Manager Al Campanis's appearance on Nightline. When Ted Koppel asked if prejudice played a factor in the dearth of black coaches and GMs in American sports, Campanis answered, “I truly believe that [African-Americans] may not have some of the necessities to be a field manager, or let’s say, perhaps a general manager.” Koppel gave follow-up questions that would have allowed Campanis to retract his statements, but Campanis lacked the good sense to do so, even adding, “Why are black people not good swimmers? Because they don’t have the buoyancy.” Yeah, that was in 1987, the same time that Club Nuevo topped the pop charts with "Lean On Me." So, baseball has had its fair share of morons that would make Dan Gilbert's little meltdown seem like a baby not getting his toy.

Jackie Robinson has turned to Myth rather than Legend

If I asked who was most responsible for integration in this country, most people (black or white) would probably give one of two names: either Malcolm X or Martin Luther King Jr. I contend that while both were epic figures in American history deserving of canonization, Jackie Robinson did more to erase the color barriers then either of them. Let's face it: has human nature really changed that much over the past 100 years? Jackie Robinson spoke directly at the criticism not with his words, but debunked every half-witted stereotype with his ability in the field.

The assumed truth during segregation was that blacks would be no match for their white counterparts in the Major Leagues because by some idiotic notion, they were inferior both mentally and physically. Well, Jackie Robinson basically took that idea and poked more holes in it than Matt Lauer did to Tom Cruise's theories on psychology. In his first three years against supposed greater pitchers, Robinson hit .297, .296, and .342. He also stole 29, 22, and 37 bases in that time frame. And just to shut everyone up, his OBP was .383, .367, and .432, and that was just in his first three years in the Major Leagues.

Robinson literally destroyed misconceptions about black athletes and black people, while also playing under the same strain that both Dr. King and Malcolm felt: continual death threats to them and their family, and seemingly every white spectator in the opposing team's ballpark not only against him, but violently against him. Did Robinson get some help along the way? Of course, specifically through white teammates, not to mention Mrs. Jackie Robinson.

I have a long running argument with one of my friends that JFK was one of the greatest presidents of our time, but he thinks that comes from obscure sympathy due to his assassination. Could Robinson be the victim of a similar idea within the black community? When I asked the same kids I was polling about their favorite sports, only a few could identify Jackie Robinson by picture, and even fewer knew the details of his journey through integration. So might Jackie Robinson have become more of myth in the black community rather than the legend he should be?

Generation…Next

Baseball seems to be on the right path to inject youth into the ranks of Major League Baseball. There are more black managers than ever before, and most of the older, more "conservative" baseball people like Schott and Campanis have either died off or retired. The RBI program has by all accounts been successful in sparking baseball interest in the African American community.

Bud Selig, for all his shortcomings, does believe that baseball shares a social consciousness within America. If the league wants the chance to produce phenoms like Ken Griffey Jr., Ryan Howard, and Jason Heyward, it must do a better job at introducing young black kids to the game early and often.

The next decade will be astoundingly important to baseball's popularity, and baseball cannot survive without the support of the African American community. The league has a lot to boast about: players who are not just juiced up, "Hulkian" behemoths belting the ball out of the ballpark. Major League Baseball must break this stereotype that the sport has fallen victim to.