Former Negro League players include, from left, John Mitchell, Earnest Harris, Jake Sanders, Cleveland Jones, and Rev. William Greason.

With a little prompting, Leroy Miller talks about the time he took the pitcher's mound in place of baseball legend Leroy "Satchel" Paige. And if you ask, Jessie Mitchell will tell about the time he and Louisville Clippers teammate Charley Pride (who later gained fame as a country and western singer) were traded to the Birmingham Black Barons for a bus.

The stories of these and other members of the Alabama Negro League Association reflect a time when baseball provided entertainment as well as economic opportunity in many black communities. They also represent an era marred by racism.

Some of their stories make you laugh, and some make you want to cry. But today these legends of the game all serve as inspiration, especially to the youngsters who hear them speak in schools and churches, learn from them during baseball clinics, and receive scholarships from their fund-raising efforts.

Living the Legend
Anyone familiar with baseball knows about Jackie Robinson, who in 1947 broke the color barrier to become the first African American in modern baseball to play in the major leagues. The names Willie Mays and "Satchel" Paige also strike a chord, especially among Alabamians who take pride in these two native sons who earned a place in the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

Other names, perhaps less familiar but equally notable, include Cleophus Brown, Willie Curry, William Greason, Earnest Harris, Willie Lee, Leroy Miller, Jessie Mitchell, John Mitchell, Jake Sanders, and Robert Lee Underwood. They represent just a few of the members of the Alabama Negro League Association, a nonprofit organization made up of former players dedicated to recognizing the contributions made by Negro League baseball to the great American sport.

Jake Sanders, who played outfield for the Kansas City Monarchs, talks batting with a young baseball player.

Every Saturday and Sunday
Some of baseball's best players came out of the South's coal mining towns, industrial communities, and black inner-city neighborhoods. Many played for the Negro Leagues, and some went on to the majors. But they all did what they loved best--played baseball.

Leroy Miller grew up in Leeds, outside Birmingham. "Back then, we had a community team, and we traveled every Saturday and Sunday," he says. "It was like a big picnic. That was the only thing you really had, so you looked forward to a baseball game."

Leroy was working at a golf course and playing ball on weekends when he caught the attention of the Birmingham Black Barons. "They came to see other players," he recalls. "It scared me, just seeing the other team warm up. I started off pitching. After an inning or two they said, 'Man, we've got to get the pitcher.' "

After playing for the Black Barons half a season, Leroy moved to the Philadelphia Stars. "They were paying $9 a game, which was $2 more than the Barons," he says.

Pitching for Paige
At an exhibition game in Seattle, Leroy took the mound in place of the legendary Satchel Paige. "He was supposed to pitch three innings," Leroy remembers. "but they said his car broke down. I was skinny, just like Satchel Paige, so they said, 'Miller, you have to be Satchel Paige, Jr.' I'd never really pitched in front of a crowd like that."

After two innings, with the other team ahead, the crowd was calling him a phony. "Back then I was young and hotheaded," Leroy says. "I got mad and said, 'Those guys were hitting Satchel Paige, Jr. Now I'm going to see them hit me'--like there was a big difference. But I struck out the next nine batters, and the crowd quit booing.

"That's the first time I ever signed any autographs. I signed 'Leroy R. Paige, Jr.,' because I couldn't spell Satchel."

The Industrial Leagues
Cleophus Brown grew up in Bradford, a mining town about 20 miles north of Birmingham. "Opportunities were rare, so for entertainment we had baseball," he says. "We'd play in an old potato field that had been cleared out or in a cornfield. I played first base and pitched, and at night I'd practice throwing cockleburs. They pulled me off the little boys' team when I was 15 and put me on the men's team."

Like many, Cleophus began playing on local industrial league teams, which competed fiercely for the best players they could find. "Most of the teams we played were from other communities owned by the same company, Alabama By-Products," he says.

Jessie Mitchell was still in high school when American Cast Iron Pipe Company (ACIPCO) recruited him for its team. "My principal was good friends with the manager at Acipco," Jessie says. "He used to let me take all my subjects in the morning, then let me out at two o'clock to go play ball. I was supposed to go to work for ACIPCO when I graduated, but it was too hot in there."

Meeting the Quota System
Instead, Jessie began playing for a semipro team called the Birmingham Black Eagles and was then scouted by the Baltimore Orioles. "I went to spring training with the San Antonio Missions, the Baltimore farm team," he recalls.

Although he proved himself to be one of the better players, Jessie was cut from the team. "I was talking to Satchel (Paige), and he told me they had a quota of black guys they were going to keep, and I wasn't in that quota. That's why I got cut."

The informal quota system, a practice of discrimination that kept many qualified black players out of the major leagues even after Jackie Robinson had broken the color barrier, is one of the ugly aspects of baseball history. "I was a pretty good ballplayer," Jessie says. "I should have made it, but I have no anger in my heart about what happened in baseball. It was a sign of the times and the people."

Traded for a Bus
Jessie and Cleophus followed different career paths, but at one point they found themselves on the same Negro League team, the Louisville Clippers. Another teammate was Charley Pride, who later became a popular country and western singer.

"Charley would get on the bus and play that guitar; it only had three strings," says Cleophus. The team always traveled by bus, and it broke down once outside Yazoo City, Mississippi. "We were playing against the Birmingham Black Barons," Cleophus remembers. "Some got a ride with the Barons to the next game, but they had to leave a few of us behind until they could get another bus."

That other bus came at a price. As Jessie recalls, "When we got to Nashville, the owner of the Barons called me in and said, 'I'm fixing to buy you. The Louisville Clippers need a bus, so I'm going to get them a bus.' So Louisville sold me to Birmingham and threw Charley Pride in the deal. Charley didn't stay in Birmingham but a month before they traded him off to Memphis. But I stayed and played with Birmingham four years, from 1954 to 1958."

Brothers Jessie (showing the back of his jacket) and John Mitchell both played for the Birmingham Black Barons.

In Uniform
By the time Jessie joined the Black Barons, a young pitcher named William Greason from Atlanta had already come and moved on. "I came out of the marines in 1947 and played a little semipro ball," he says. "The guys in Atlanta saw me, and I played a game or two with the Atlanta Black Crackers, then went to Asheville, (North Carolina). The Black Barons came for an exhibition game. I pitched on Saturday night, and on Monday I was in Birmingham. I stayed three years but had to go back in the marines during the Korean War."

Instead of being sent to Korea, William was sent to play baseball for his unit. But even the military uniform didn't protect him from discrimination. "We had spring training in Florida. Coming back, we stopped at a restaurant to eat, and I couldn't go in," he remembers. There was also an exhibition game in Orlando where he was told to leave the stands because of his color. "I looked at my manager, and he got up, and all of us left," he says. "Men in uniform couldn't sit and watch the game, not bothering anybody. That really hurt me."

Road Back to Birmingham
After the war, William went with the Oklahoma City Indians, a farm club for the Cleveland Indians. "I was with them in 1952 and 1953," he says. "Then I was sold to the St. Louis Cardinals organization." He ended his career in Rochester, New York, and returned to Birmingham. "My wife is from here," he explains.

In Birmingham, he was called to the ministry and was soon preaching one Sunday each month at the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church. "I began going to that church and went there about eight years before I became a member," he says. "Being around the church, something happened. I announced my call one Sunday morning, and by that afternoon I was in the pulpit. I just happened to be out of town that Sunday [in 1963] when the church was bombed. I had gone down to Tuscaloosa to play ball with Jake Sanders." Reverend Greason, was working with Jake, another member of the Alabama Negro League Association, to help get young players into organized baseball.

I'd Do It Again
In spite of the difficulties and the discrimination, the players all look back on their baseball careers with fond memories. Their love of the game overshadowed everything else. "If I had it to do all over, I'd do it again," says Jessie, "because I enjoyed it and met so many good people. If they started a league tomorrow and I could play, I'd go right out and sign a contract and play with them."

Living by Example
The members of the Alabama Negro League Association have always individually given their time and talents to the community. Leroy Miller is one example. For years after he left organized baseball, he coached community sports teams in his hometown of Leeds. "They heard I had played with the Barons and felt like I could be a big influence on the kids," he says. "Now on Christmas and special days, I'll get cards from some of the former players. As I look back, I was teaching them more than baseball." Since Reverend Greason became president of the Alabama Negro League Association several years ago, the members have made a united effort to help today's youth. "We go out and speak at schools and churches," he says. The group also participates in baseball events, where they're a big hit with youngsters. They have a banquet each year, as well, with the dual purpose of honoring members and raising money for scholarships for young athletes.

"Still in the Game" is from the April 2006 issue of Southern Living.