Black Diamond Kings: Heroes of Negro League Baseball

Written by Charles R. Smith and illus. by Adrian Brandon

Any baseball fan will tell you that a good game is an exercise in quiet patience rewarded by moments of high drama, a performance that is far more designed than one might suspect. Considering how its seemingly impromptu action can inspire instant elation or devastation—sometimes both simultaneously—America’s pastime finds an unusual but natural match in poetry. The poet and the player, after all, must both be master strategists, positioning all the right elements—be it a well-timed stolen base or a well-turned phrase—to inspire fans and readers on a visceral level that leaves them breathless with emotion. In this month’s Big Picture, author Smith and illustrator Brandon prove their mettle as all-star artists, introducing readers to a dozen players from the Negro leagues of baseball in a series of biographical poems that are as sure-footed, smooth, and powerful as the athletes themselves.

First up is Satchel Paige, “the Picasso on the hill / ready to paint strikes / with finesse and skill,” and his tall figure winds up for a pitch as fireworks explode behind him in a riot of color. A turn of the page makes a dramatic shift, as in the next scene storm clouds frame a tight close-up of Josh Gibson, called the “Black Babe Ruth,” his eyes reflecting the ball he just blasted into the stands “with a thunderous / CRASH.” Smith’s entries vary in rhyme scheme and cadence, effortlessly evoking the personality of the player as well as his approach to the game in memorable, dynamic fashion. Noted shortstop John Henry “Pop” Lloyd, for example, comes alive with a staccato repetition of “pop” over eight lines, while a sonnet honors another player in that same position, Willie Wells, who was known as the Shakespeare of Shortstops. Several poems could easily be read as dugout cheers, as when George “Mule” Suttles steps to the plate (“Kick, Mule, Kick! / Let’s see you swing the stick!”), and the chatter of the dialogue-based ode to James “Cool Papa” Bell places readers right in the stands with his adoring fans.

Hand-sketched and digitally painted, Brandon’s art provides as much variety as the text, moving between elegantly detailed photorealism and more exaggerated figures and conceptual motifs. Centerfielder, first baseman, and manager Oscar Charleston’s portrait exudes the depth and texture of oil and acrylics, his brown skin touched by slick highlights in an effect reminiscent of a baseball trading card. Elsewhere, shortstop Lloyd’s contorted frame reaches across the page, with overly long legs and impressively stretched arms, to snag a ball from the skies, and a baseball engulfed in flames casts swirling lines of burnt sienna and rusty oranges around pitcher “Smoky” Joe Williams’ determined face as he stares down the next batter. The text and illustrations are often paired in action and energy, such as Walter Fenner “Buck” Leonard’s solid batting stance matching the steady rhythm of a tribute to his powerful swing. Others, however, contrast in more visually striking but just as effective ways that convey a players’ physical prowess: Bell’s famous speed is brilliantly illuminated as his slightly blurred, fleeting form leaves behind the hatched, static faces of the wonderstruck crowd.

Each spread is a celebration of the skill and power displayed on the field, showing the players as larger-than-life figures, but the book takes care to balance that joy with an acknowledgment of the larger societal context in which the men played and the discrimination they faced. Subtle references to the significance of the formation of the Negro leagues appear in several poems, but the specifics are saved for back matter in an accessible Q&A format. There, the leagues’ history is laid out, including the fact that while the leagues were born of exclusion from white MLB teams, their ultimate demise was due to those very same teams poaching the Negro leagues’ best talent once they started accepting Black players. Readers can also find more information about the players’ individual roles in both the Negro leagues and the MLB (for those that were accepted) in a roster of “Players Notes” that additionally notes the players’ stats, positions, and time in the league.

With the heedless passion of the most ardent sports fan, this book is all about the love of the game, a devotion felt so deeply by some—and clearly by Smith and Brandon—that only the most emotive form of writing could properly give it its due.

—Kate Quealy-Gainer, Editor