Bygone Era

Billy Preston played the Dodger Stadium organ as it had never been played before. The stands rumbled with the rhythm of the afternoon, the rhythm of a celebration, an appreciation.

Singing the Negro national anthem, then “God Bless America” and finally the “Star-Spangled Banner” loud and proud was Elmer Carter, who turns 91 on April 12 and who was one of 33 former Negro League baseball players at “The Game of the Century.” This was an exhibition game sponsored by the Black Baseball Players Assn., played by former African-American and Latino players representing the Los Angeles Black Sox and Houston Black Jax.

The uniforms were vintage. The play was spirited. Players slid into bases and ran out ground balls, and Glenn Braggs even hit a massive home run that almost left the stadium, landing in the left-field bullpen in a 4-3 Black Sox win.

But the afternoon wasn’t about runs, hits and errors. It was about what baseball once missed--the supreme talent of the black athlete--and what baseball is now missing--the presence in significant numbers of black baseball fans in major league ballparks.

There were about 4,000 people in the stands and if only each of them could have talked to the two 90-somethings who walked straight and tall onto the field to be honored.

Carter, who came from Sacramento, played only two years in the Negro Leagues, for the Birmingham Black Barons and the Kansas City Monarchs. Carter was 19 when he left his Oklahoma home for life on the road. He was happy to ride in old buses and older cars and room in cheap hotels with four or five other teammates.

“I lived, breathed and dreamed baseball from the time I was a little boy,” Carter said. “I played with a rag ball from the time I was a little boy. They used to call me ‘Snake’ because, they said, I could spot a ball in the grass like a snake in the grass. That was a little funny because my daddy died of a snake bite.”

Left blind by diabetes, which, Carter said, only makes it nicer to listen to baseball games on the radio, Carter was not sitting in Dodger Stadium for the first time.

“When they cut the ribbon on this place, I was here,” Carter said. “When they played the first game here, I was in the seats. I ate Dodger Dogs before they were called Dodger Dogs.”

Carter remembered playing with Josh Gibson. “Greatest player I ever saw,” he said.

He left the Monarchs when he was 20. “My mama said I had to come home and get married or she’d break my ears,” Carter said. “I didn’t want to, but mama said. After the wedding I was riding in the car with some of my friends. We were celebrating my marriage and the car turned over. I broke my right shoulder and could never play baseball again.”

Never played it, always loved it even while he stayed away from the game because his longing to play made it too hard to watch.

Andrew Porter, who will turn 92 next month, had a longer career, 22 years. He played for the Nashville Elite Giants. He played for money in Mexico, Canada and Cuba. He played because, he said, “the game was in my blood.”

The Dodgers did the smart thing and the right thing by donating the use of the stadium to Ted Milner, a former professional player who organized this game.

It seemed as if there were more African-American people in the stands on this February afternoon than there are for weeks all totaled during the Dodger season.

Porter said it had made him sad, over the years, to see how the game he so loved had evaporated from the communities he had lived in. “You used to see black kids playing in parking lots or dirt fields, it didn’t matter,” Porter said. “Now you don’t see black kids playing baseball and I wish they would. It is a great part of our history.”

Milner, chief executive of Executive Temps, put almost $400,000 of his money into this game. The old Negro League players were flown from all over the country to Los Angeles. They were entertained at a dinner at Dorsey High on Thursday and at a pregame reception.

“I didn’t know so many people remembered us,” Carter said. “This means a lot.”

For Milner, the triumph of the day came when he ran into the outfield. He played in the game and when he looked along the outfield wall, where there are pictures of Dodger greats, where he saw the images of Jackie Robinson and Roy Campanella, Milner said, “Thank you, Jackie; thank you, Roy; thank you.”

Warren Smith, 42, of Compton, had his three sons with him. They had bought Black Sox caps and were standing in line for Dodger Dogs. Smith’s three boys--Warren Jr., 12; Henry, 10; and Byron, 7--have never been to a major league game.

“The price, the expense of parking, it’s hard for a working man to take his family to big league games,” Smith said. “And my kids, they’d rather play basketball. They’re always after me to get Lakers’ tickets. The interest in baseball just isn’t in my kids. I wish it was. My dad used to hit balls to me, but I can’t get my kids outside. It just seems like baseball isn’t a game for us anymore.”

“I wish it weren’t so,” Porter said. “When I grew up in Arkansas, all us black kids did was play baseball. We loved the game so, even when we couldn’t dream of being in the big leagues or making all that money. We just loved the game.”

The game was simple Saturday. A foul ball in the stands had hundreds of kids squealing in pursuit. Youngsters were asking 80-year-olds for autographs.

Milner wants to make this an annual event and bring it to other cities, other stadiums. If major league baseball officials have any sense, they will not want Milner using his money, or having to raise it, to do these events. If the millionaire players of today have any sense, they will not want Milner using his money or raising it either.

Baseball owners and players should take up Milner’s cause. The fans already have.

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Diane Pucin can be reached at diane.pucin@latimes.com.