Richmond baseball players’ journey started on sandlots and ended in a Canadian hall of fame

The 91-year-olds were two of 500 Black baseball players who played in the Western Canada Baseball League during the 1950s

RICHMOND — When Nat Bates got a call that he was being inducted into the Saskatchewan Baseball Hall of Fame, he didn’t have a speech prepared, tears in his eyes or family gathered for such a coveted occasion.

Truth be told, the time he spent on the Indian Head Rockets — one of Canada’s first all-Black professional teams during the 1950s — is a chapter of his life that almost disappeared from his memory.

“We were 20 years old in 1952,” Bates said, recalling his time on the pitcher’s mound representing a town more than 1,200 miles north of Richmond, the place he has called home since he was a child. “We had no idea such an honor would be bestowed upon us. When all of a sudden, 70 years later, someone calls and says, ‘Hey, you’re going to — as a team — be inducted,’ that was quite amazing.”

Bates and fellow Richmond resident Willie Reed, both 91, were among the 500 or so Black and Cuban baseball players — cherry picked primarily from Florida and California teams — who trekked north in the 1950s to join the Western Canada Baseball League. Today, they are two of the team’s last three known surviving players.

“It’s fantastic that they would dig down so far back and include us in their history,” Reed said. “It is a great honor.”

Last month, doctor’s orders kept Reed stateside, but Bates, a longtime Richmond city councilmember who is running for mayor in November, returned to the province of Saskatchewan for the induction ceremony.

On the trip, Bates marveled over the exhibit at the Indian Head Museum that commemorated their former team with photographs, autographed baseballs and a replica jersey.

The visit rekindled memories of the days when he and Reed — alongside friends and fellow ball players Calvin Winters, Emmett Neal and Elijah “Pumpsie” Green — traded in their Bay Area “sandlot” teams to play in front of stands packed with Canadian spectators, who often snacked on concessions while dressed in their Sunday best. The league’s annual tournament drew up to 30,000 fans.

“Cars would be lined up in centerfield, right field and left field watching the game,” Bates said. “Occasionally someone would get a good fastball and send it out there and break windshields.”

Local farmers flew people to the games in crop planes, according to historical accounts, and train cars full of sleeping cots arrived for spectators staying overnight. Cars came with license plates from every province in Canada.

“I guess it was like a holiday or something,” Bates said, “because they would all show up out of nowhere.”

Robyn Jensen, president of the Indian Head Museum, spent more than two years cataloging the history of the league. She used unexpected downtime at work during COVID to try and fill the holes of the players’ careers by connecting with baseball experts and tracking down the last living members of the team.

“Serendipity and collaboration played a huge role in researching, which makes me think that this story was waiting for the right time to come back into the limelight,” said Jensen, 48. About 80 players were inducted into the Saskatchewan Baseball Hall of Fame, representing every roster of the Rockets between 1950 and 1954. “To have Nat come up, and see him stand in front of everybody — clapping and cheering — that was just so special.”

The Indian Head Rockets were far from the only Black baseball players to find a rich baseball community in Canada.

Jackie Robinson credited his time playing for the Montreal Royals in 1946 with enabling him to make history as the first African American to break into the MLB with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947. But as Robinson kicked off integration into other U.S. teams, the Negro National League folded in 1950. Playing international ball was eventually one of the few remaining options.

Scores of other African American ballplayers had the talent to follow his lead and succeed, too. But team management only signed on a handful of players, and the Black players who did make it had to “look and act the part,” Bates said, to snag a spot.

Before landing a spot on the Indian Head Rockets’ roster in 1952, Bates and Reed first ventured to Canada in 1951 to play for the integrated Medicine Hat Mohawks, hoping to catch a scout’s eye for a major — or minor — league contract.

The players only learned the Rockets were an all-Black team after they arrived.

Race didn’t seem to create any issues for the Canadians at the time. Instead, Reed said the crowds cherished watching the American and Cuban players’ baseball prowess and power.

“They were a little bit ahead of the time, to be honest with you,” Reed said, explaining how Canadian families often hosted dinners for the athletes after the last pitch was thrown and spent time learning about Black culture. “Here in the States in the 50s, we struggled — we didn’t know what the outcome was going to be because there was so much prejudice and racism. But up in Canada, we could be ourselves and were only judged on what we produced.”

The duo from Richmond, however, had to set aside their baseball mitts and aspirations of going pro back in the U.S. much earlier than expected.

“After the 1952 season, I came home and I had a big brown envelope ready for me,” Bates said, “and it said to report to Fort Ord (in Monterey Bay) for induction into the Army.”

The then-22-year-olds shipped to Seoul, South Korea, during the Korean War. By 1955, they each had families to grow and take care of, bringing their baseball-playing years to a close.

Bates’ fellow councilmember Demnlus Johnson — 62 years his junior — felt like he was talking to Forrest Gump the first time he heard stories about Bates’ professional sports career.

“This most definitely feeds into the whole narrative that Richmond has continuously produced great baseball players,” he said, referring to a list that includes big leaguers Loyd Christopher, Dale Sveum and Ricky Jordan. “I was enamored of the fact that Nat is a part of that history.”

That’s why people like Jensen are trying to ensure memories of the Western Canada Baseball League don’t fade away.

“I stared at these men’s faces for months — I swear I saw them in my dreams,” Jensen said. “It was so important for me to make sure that they were identified, because that’s one way of ensuring they have a voice in their own story. Maybe some family members will see their names and find a missing piece.”