Reggie Jackson is one of my favorite athletes of all-time, and I will always remember being captivated as a young child by his three home runs off of three different pitchers in game six of the 1977 World Series. "Reggie," a documentary about Jackson's life that includes extensive interview footage with Jackson, premiered recently on Amazon Prime. I just watched the film, and it was great to see the story not only of Jackson's rise as a great baseball player but also how he overcame racism. Also, before watching "Reggie" I did not know that my favorite basketball player of all-time--Julius Erving--has long been close friends with one of my two favorite baseball players of all-time (Eric Davis is my other favorite baseball player).
Jackson bashed 563 home runs to rank sixth on MLB's career home run list when he retired, though he has now officially dropped out of the top 10 after his numbers were surpassed by PED cheaters. MLB ranks Jackson 14th now, but if you take out the PED-enhanced numbers posted by Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire, and Rafael Palmeiro then Jackson ranks ninth; regarding the other three players who passed Jackson, Ken Griffey Jr. never had the body changes or numbers changes denoting PED usage, while Albert Pujols and Jim Thome are--according to what is publicly known and documented--the two greatest clean sluggers of the PED era.
Jackson played on five World Series championship teams (1972-74 with the Oakland A's, 1977-78 with the New York Yankees), capturing regular season MVP honors in 1973, and the World Series MVP in 1973 and 1977. That legendary three home run performance in 1977 cemented his reputation as "Mr. October," a nickname first given to Jackson not as a compliment but as a sarcastic remark by teammate Thurman Munson, who did not always see eye to eye with Jackson. Munson died in a 1979 plane crash.
Near the beginning of the documentary, Jackson looks into the camera and says, "I have hesitation with this documentary because I don't have control of it." Despite his hesitation, Jackson welcomed the cameras to his home, and he set up a gorgeous shot with some of the classic cars from his legendary collection. He also let the viewer be privy to a phone conversation with Pete Rose, who needled Jackson that he is "shrinking," quipping that if Jackson gets any shorter he could ride horses as a jockey. Jackson laughed and admitted that he is only 5-10 now (Jackson was listed at 6-0 during his playing career).
Jackson talked with Hank Aaron about Aaron's pursuit of Babe Ruth's home run record. Aaron contrasted the invective directed at him by some people for breaking Ruth's record the praise that Pete Rose later received for breaking Ty Cobb's hits record. Aaron concluded, with a sad and weary look on his face, "Baseball has been backwards for a long time."
Jackson recalled being drafted by the Kansas City A's and then being sent to play minor league baseball in Birmingham, Alabama, home to the infamous Bull Connor. It is chilling to see archival footage of Connor looking into the camera and stating that he may not be able to keep Birmingham segregated forever but that he will "die trying." In the South, Jackson's teammates had to bring food to him on the team bus because restaurants refused to serve Black patrons.
Jackson soon was promoted to the big leagues with the A's in 1967. The A's moved to Oakland in 1968. Jackson quickly became a big star, but he ran afoul of team owner Charlie Finley after requesting a raise. Jackson held out of spring training, and then was benched upon his return to the team. Jackson fumed at being relegated to a limited role, but when he got an opportunity to pinch hit he made the most of it: "I had to honor the guy in the mirror that I looked at, and really say that I got everything out of what I could do. That was my goal in the game: just go out there and do something, and you won't need to talk. I hadn't played, I hadn't had spring training, but this is what I do. I'm in charge here. Once I get out of here [the playing field], and you have control of me, I'm boxed up. But not here. He's got to throw the ball over here past me, and it ain't passing." Jackson chuckled at the end of that statement, and then he concluded the story: "I hit a home run to center field with the bases loaded, and it won the game for us. And when I got around to home plate, I saluted Charlie Finley like this" (in the documentary, Jackson mimicked the well-known one finger salute, without actually making the gesture on camera).
Jackson injured his leg stealing home in the deciding game of the 1972 American League Championship Series versus Detroit, and he was unable to play in that year's World Series. He will never forget Jackie Robinson being publicly honored during the 1972 World Series for the 25th anniversary of breaking MLB's color line. When Robinson spoke to the crowd, he mentioned how proud he would be when the day finally came that he would see a Black manager in MLB. That stuck with Jackson. Robinson died nine days later. In 1975, Frank Robinson (not related to Jackie Robinson) became MLB's first Black manager.
Jackson mentioned that the most important thing for a pro athlete is to win championships--not one championship, but more than one, to prove that you can be consistently dominant. Jackson dominated in 1973, winning MVP honors in the regular season and the World Series.
After showing highlights from that triumph, the documentary shifted to the current time, with Jackson visiting Julius Erving's home. Car aficionado Jackson looked with admiration at Erving's 1985 Rolls Royce, pointing to the car's distinctive hood ornament and asking Erving if he knows what it is called. Erving did not know, and Jackson said, "That's called the lady of ecstasy." Erving chuckled: "You know more about my car than I do."
Erving and Jackson asked members of the camera crew how old they were in 1985. Answers ranged from four and five to "I wasn't born yet."
It was a surprise and a treat to see Erving highlights in "Reggie." Jackson commented, "When someone says, 'You've got something in common with Dr. J,' you know what I say? That I'm bad!" Erving laughed, and with his typical modesty replied, "You know it's the other way around." Jackson insisted, "No way," and he tried to imitate Erving's famous reverse layup from the 1980 NBA Finals when Erving floated through the air from one side of the hoop to the other, holding the ball aloft over the out of bounds line, before flipping in a sensational shot like it was a routine move. Pro athletes do not tend to gush about other pro athletes--particularly other pro athletes who are from their generation--but I have noticed over the years that Erving is one of the few sports icons who turns even Hall of Famers into gushing little kids.
Erving is an eloquent speaker, and it brought tears to my eyes when he explained his heartfelt feelings about his friendship with Jackson: "The 70's was a good time. In my lifetime, I have had a few special relationships when somebody has extended the hand of friendship, and then after that it's like no strings attached. Maybe there is some divine intervention just saying that you should stay connected with this person, like a second family. I lost my brother and my sister in life, but I have a brother in you. I'm not a big baseball fan, but I'm a Reggie Jackson fan. So nobody can say anything bad about you." Erving paused for a beat, and jokingly added, "No matter how much cause you give them. They can't say nothing bad about you around me."
Erving and Jackson talked about role models who influenced them. Erving noted that Jackie Robinson had a "turn the other cheek" mentality, while Jim Brown represented a "get out of my face" attitude, so athletes had a choice to decide which path to take. Erving and Jackson both emphasized how much they respect Robinson, while also stating that they identified more with Brown's approach.
Jackson's time with the A's ended after the 1975 season, when Finley refused to pay market value to keep his star-laden team together. Jackson found out that he had been traded to Baltimore by hearing the news on the radio. Erving, who led the New York Nets to two ABA titles in his three seasons with the team, was also traded by an owner (Roy Boe) who was unwilling or unable to pay market value (though Boe's hands were probably more tied than Finley's, as Boe had to pay various costs associated with the ABA-NBA merger, including an indemnification fee to the New York Knicks for being based in the same market).
Jackson played one season for Baltimore before signing with the New York Yankees. He wanted to wear number 42 in honor of Jackie Robinson, but that number was unavailable, so he chose to wear number 44 in honor of Hank Aaron.
To this day, Jackson says that he does not understand why he and Yankees Manager Billy Martin had such a contentious relationship. Jackson respected Martin's scrappy personality. However, Jackson also feels that race and racism impacted Martin's attitude toward him. Jackson believes that Martin initially refused to let him hit cleanup--his natural spot in the batting order--because Martin did not want a Black man to fill that role for the Yankees. Things came to a head when Martin felt that Jackson did not hustle to go after a ball in the outfield, and Martin pulled Jackson from the game in the middle of the inning, a humiliating move that Jackson did not accept blithely. The two men confronted each other in the dugout and had to be separated. Jackson noted that Black baseball players such as Bob Gibson, Hank Aaron, and Frank Robinson were wrongly depicted as angry when in reality they "are hurt. They are disappointed. They are searching for dignity."
Martin eventually put Jackson in the cleanup role. Not surprisingly, Jackson thrived, and the Yankees moved up in the standings, setting the stage for the team's dramatic 1977 run to the World Series title.
There are few images in pro sports as dramatic and dynamic as Reggie Jackson's home run swing. He seemed to corkscrew his legs into the ground as his powerfully muscled torso exploded into the ball and sent it on a one way trip out of the ballpark. Jackson poured every ounce of his mental, emotional, and physical energy into that swing, and the ball fled his bat as if it feared the power he had just unleashed.
Jackson believes that his biggest advantage was that around the 120 game mark of the season everyone else was tired but he was not. During his career, he clearly showed on more than one occasion that he possessed the ability to produce when it mattered the most. "Stat gurus" can insist that the hot hand does not exist and that elevated performance by some players in clutch situations is a myth, but if you have ever played competitive sports and took it seriously then you know better. Reggie Jackson epitomizes clutch play in a way that few athletes in any sport ever have. In team sports, a rare athlete like Reggie Jackson not only elevates his own play when it matters most, but his attitude, approach, and confident demeanor infuse his teammates with confidence. Of course, a player who lacks those traits can infect his teammates with doubt.
Jackson will forever identify himself and be identified as a Yankee, even though he spent just five seasons with the Bronx Bombers. Yankees owner George Steinbrenner later lamented that letting Jackson leave was his biggest mistake. Jackson continued to be productive for several years after departing New York, but as he approached his 40th birthday he realized that mentally he was not quite where he once had been, and so he knew that it was time to retire.
After retiring, he worked for the Yankees as a special advisor for many years, but he yearned to become a team owner, and he still laments not receiving that opportunity. Jackson candidly admits that he was depressed for a while without even realizing it. Jackson, feeling that his opportunities with the Yankees were limited, joined the Houston Astros, and now serves as a special advisor for that franchise. His love for the game and his eagerness to pass down his knowledge to the current generation of players are palpable.
Bonus film clips accompanying the documentary include brief excerpts from separate conversations that Jackson had with Hank Aaron, Franco Harris, Rick Hendrick, and Bob Kendrick. Aaron, who passed away in 2021, recalled growing up in Mobile, Alabama, and how his mother would call him into the house to hide under the bed when she knew that the Ku Klux Klan was in town. Harris and Jackson talked about the honor and privilege of having your number retired. Hendrick recalled spending a whole day with Jackson at a ceremony when the legendary race car team owner was honored as the car dealer of the year. Jackson had tears in his eyes by the end of that day, and when Hendrick--who had never seen Jackson be that emotional--asked why, Jackson said that at the ceremony he did not see anyone who looked like him. Hendrick said that Jackson's comment made a deep impression on him; afterward, Hendrick developed a leadership academy to mentor people of color to find the individuals best qualified to work in his organization. Hendrick also provided Jackson with the opportunity to own a car dealership in Raleigh, North Carolina. Kendrick took Jackson on a tour of the Negro Leagues Museum, and discussed how the advocacy of Babe Ruth and Ted Williams helped Negro League players receive deserved recognition that they might otherwise have not received from the general baseball community (including the Baseball Hall of Fame).
During the documentary, Jackson admitted to wondering if he has done enough to help his community. It should be noted that Jackson's Mr. October Foundation has worked with thousands of children in underserved communities to provide STEM educational opportunities.
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