Robinson’s legacy is colorblind

This was the first time the introductions were the coolest part of the game.

“Leading off, shortstop, No. 42, Rafael Furcal.”

“Batting second, in center field, wearing No. 42, Juan Pierre.”

“Batting third, first baseman, No. 42, Nomar Garciaparra.”

And on it went, all throughout the lineup, every single Dodger wearing No. 42 on the 60th anniversary of the day Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color barrier.

What a simple yet fitting tribute. Every time a Dodger ran the basepaths in the team’s 9-3 victory over the San Diego Padres, with a 42 on the back of that classic white-blue-and-red jersey, it was as if the old black-and-white footage of Robinson had come to life in vivid color.

It goes beyond the Dodgers, of course. Every player today in major league baseball is Jackie Robinson. Not just the African Americans, but the Latinos and Asians as well. Remember, the Dodgers aren’t just the team of Jackie Robinson, they’re the team of Fernando Valenzuela and Hideo Nomo as well. Yes, even the Caucasian players are better off for Robinson’s breakthrough; their accomplishments in today’s game that’s open to every great player have more credibility than the numbers put up in the segregated era.

So Robinson’s legacy is as strong as ever, regardless of the changing racial composition of baseball.

Lately the only number more prevalent than 42 is 8.4 -- the percentage of African Americans on MLB’s opening-day rosters as noted by several news stories in the lead-up to Sunday’s ceremonies. It’s a drastic drop-off from the days 30 years ago when African Americans were 27% of the players. But it isn’t a crisis for black people. It’s a problem for baseball.

African Americans have a wider variety of athletic options available to them than ever before, thanks to the momentum still carried forward from Robinson’s first push in 1947. Almost 70% of the players are African American in the nation’s most popular sport, the NFL. The NBA, the league with the highest average salary ($5.2 million), is 80% African American. African Americans have risen to the top in golf and tennis, previously considered the exclusive provinces of the country club set.

There are more choices, and they’re being exercised. The door to baseball isn’t locked, it just isn’t being used as often.

So African American athletes aren’t the ones hurting here.

“It’s a baseball issue,” said Hall of Famer Dave Winfield, now a senior advisor to the San Diego Padres. “When you say it’s a problem, I look at it from a business standpoint. You have a lot of [black] people that are no longer attending games, a group of people with tremendous spending power. Then you look at how the talent pool has changed on the field.

“You’re always going to be able to field enough players. And you’re doing international outreach, and that’s good. I’m saying, I would hope that we don’t lose touch with a serious, talented, domestic talent.”

The sport doesn’t need any more versions of Jackie Robinson, the pioneer. It needs the latest incarnations of Jackie Robinson, the player.

Baseball’s career records for home runs, runs batted in, runs, total bases, stolen bases and walks are all held by African Americans. (So was the saves record, before Trevor Hoffman passed Lee Smith in September). When Hank Aaron and Frank Robinson threw out the ceremonial first pitches Sunday, they didn’t just represent two important African American sports figures, they represented a combined 1,341 home runs.

Baseball’s risk in losing its connection to African Americans is that it’s missing out on the next Aaron or Robinson -- or for that matter, the next version of reigning National League Most Valuable Player Ryan Howard.

We know some of the basic impediments, such as the cost of equipment and the lack of space and facilities in poorer areas. One area that doesn’t receive enough attention is the decline of Division I college baseball scholarships, to 11.7 per school. At a time when major league drafts reflect greater emphasis on college experience, there are fewer opportunities for black kids to get baseball scholarships and less of an incentive to use baseball as a ticket to education.

One of the solutions Winfield offers in his book “Dropping the Ball” is that baseball should fund “Jackie Robinson Grants” for minority baseball players to help them attend college.

That would be a perfect complement for the 34-year-old Jackie Robinson Scholars program, which has produced 1,100 college graduates according to Robinson’s wife, Rachel.

“Jackie’s legacy is all over the place,” Rachel Robinson said.

In the game, it’s important that his commitment for equal rights continues to give minorities fair shots at being baseball managers and executives. That could help baseball regain the cultural leadership role it took 60 years ago.

Commissioner Bud Selig spoke of baseball as a “social institution” with “enormous social responsibilities” and reminded everyone Robinson broke the color barrier before the integration of the U.S. armed forces and Brown vs. Board of Education.

Rachel Robinson, eloquent as always, said: “It is my great hope that all of us will take this occasion to reflect on how far we’ve come as a nation and yet to be certain that we collectively continue to struggle for equal opportunity in all aspects of life.

“As we reflect, we must also recommit ourselves to challenge those who try to undermine the gains we have made and turn the clock back on all that we have achieved.”

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J.A. Adande can be reached at j.a.adande@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Adande, go to latimes.com/adande.