Hit it.

_Black Champions_, roll twenty-three.

OK.

Curt, I wonder if we can start off by getting you to do a little reminiscing. Would you talk about growing up in Oakland? It's a, it's a city that's produced a number of outstanding athletes in addition to yourself: Bill Russell, [unintelligible], Vada Pinson, Frank Robinson. What kind of an atmosphere did you grow up in?

Well, you know, that is, [car honks] that is so interesting because we are predominately a small town in Oakland and to have the first black manager in baseball, and the first black coach in basketball, and to have so many outstanding athletes come up such, such a small area, Clayton, is, is really quite unusual; and I do imagine it's because of the, of the interest that adults had in the youngsters as I grew up. And one especially—here is a, a white guy who, who coached the first black manager in baseball and the first black coach in basketball, and it, it is a tribute, really, to the interest that he really had in, in, in, in kids. It's one thing about being from the ghetto, I guess, we are all kind of protected there, and you never really run into the kind of prejudice that you, that you run into when you, when you leave this little segregated area. And how this white guy got in and out of the ghetto night after night to, to, to teach, and to, to be a part of our lives, I just have no idea. But it is really interesting—I guess it's the weather. We are able to play baseball and basketball and whatever, year-round. I guess it's the need to get out of there and one of the, the ways that we, the means that we have of escaping the ghetto is through sports and...it's, it was interesting. I had a chance to play, oh, eleven months out of the year in Oakland, California, and I guess that made a much better athlete out of myself.

Describe young Curt Flood. What kind of a kid was he?

Well, I, I guess if I had to draw a profile of me, I, I would start with, I really wanted to learn, be it scholastically or as, as an athlete, and I, I could see that I was not ever going to be large enough to play football or tall enough to play basketball, so I, I chose baseball. I was a good student. I, I, I faced reality inasmuch as I, I knew that there weren't many places in athletics for a person that, that—have a look at me, I'm five-foot-ten—and I, I knew that I would have to, to do well in school if I wanted to suc-, to succeed at all, so I, I really hit the books, Clayton, and I, I really thought it necessary to, to, to do well in school, and I did not neglec-, I, I did not let athletics stand in the way of my getting good grades.

What sort of family life did you have, Curt? Did you have brothers, sisters?

Yeah, I'm the youngest of six, and we were lucky. We had both our, of our parents. My mom and dad lived with us, and they, we were fortunate for, for them to have jobs. And we were fortunate for them to, to love us, and to be a part of our lives and, and—

We have to stop for a moment.

OK.

Roll twenty-three, take two.

OK.

Curt, tell us a little bit about your, your family life and growing up in Oakland.

Well, Clayton, I was very fortunate. I am the, the sixth, the youngest of six children and very fortunately we had our mom and dad together, which is quite unusual nowadays. And I guess we, we weren't poor, but we, we didn't have a lot. We had a lot of love and, and a lot of understanding from our parents. We, they both worked very hard. My father worked several jobs so that, that we could have all the things that he thought important to us. And, I guess I was in and out of trouble as much as any youngster back during those days, and very, very fortunately I, I saw the light early and I, I straightened my life out and got myself going in the right direction. And [sighs] it, it wasn't easy for us; our parents didn't make a lot of money, but they, they made sure we had all the things that the kids in our peers had, if, if nothing more.

Did your neighborhood have a name? Was there a nickname for the part of town you lived in?

Yeah, the ghetto. [laughs] We lived in West Oakland and, which wa-, is the, that part of the, of Oakland where it is 99 percent black, and 100 percent poor. But we didn't let that, that stop us. We, we, we enjoyed; we, we were able to, to make it.

Did you have any childhood heroes or people you really looked up to as you were growing up; people maybe you wanted to emulate?

Well, yeah. Of course, Jackie Robinson was the hero of, of my era. And young Martin Luther King at the time, and, and I had several teachers that, that were important to me. I think I mentioned George Powles, the, the baseball coach, that kind of took us under our, his wing, and gave us a chance to, to play baseball. And he'd pick us up on Saturdays and, even as a child at eight or nine years old, he'd pick us up on Saturdays and make sure we were at the right place at the right time. And more than anything else, keep us out of trouble.

Were you very competitive? I thought, I guess, coming from a family of six, you were probably pretty competitive. [laughs]

[laughs] Just in order to eat, right, you had to be very competitive. But yeah, I guess so. I, I was always the smallest in the crowd, and, and being the smaller of, of a group of thugs like, like we were back in, back then, you, you really had to stay on top of it. And I was always the last one chosen, whatever the sport was, and I really had to stay on top of my little game.

How old were you when baseball really began to play a significant role in your life?

Well, I, I guess into high school, Clayton. I, I, up until that point it was just something to do for fun, but after, after I got into high school, I found there was much more to it than that. I found that there was a professionalism to this game that I had been playing for so long. And I, I felt that I had a chance, as small as I was and, and, and as light as I was. As you know, I went to high school with Frank Robinson and Vada Pinson, and they had graduated on into professional sports with, with the Cincinnati Reds at the time, and I thought I really had a pretty good chance of playing professional baseball.

What do you remember about your earliest days in organized ball? How did you get, for example, from your high school career in Oakland, what was the transition into organized ball? Did somebody scout you or—

[sighs] Yeah, right. The, as a matter of fact the same guy [missing frames] that signed Frank Robinson and Vada Pinson, signed, signed me, as a matter of fact. And it is really interesting that all the money that's being made in sports today, they signed Frank Robinson, and Vada Pinson, and myself—all three of us—for four thousand dollars apiece, for twelve thousand dollars, and they had all of us at one time in, in the outfield. And, and they really didn't have any idea what they had. As a matter of fact I was traded to Cincinna—excuse me—to St. Louis because they had Frank Robinson and Vada Pinson in the outfield. But the, a scout named Bobby Maddox signed all three of us, and the transition wasn't an easy one. Even, even though I, I lived in the black ghetto, I was not aware of the incredible amount of dislike people have for you until I started playing baseball. My first year, I played in High Point-Thomasville, North Carolina [missing frames] and here's a kid out of California, you know, who, who, who wasn't sure what, what it meant to use a, a, a black water fountain; or to go into a black entrance; or to be, sit in the back of the bus. And in 1956, boy, it was really tough. They were segregating the, they were trying to desegregate the schools, and, and it, it was quite a transition for me.

Describe for us, if you will, Curt Flood the ball player who entered baseball there in North Carolina. What kind of player, looking back now, how would you describe yourself if you were maybe giving a scouting report on a young Curt Flood?

Well, here's a guy that really tries hard, and for what it's worth, will give you 100 percent of his talent. I had probably one of the greatest years that anybody could have under the circumstances. I, I think I led the league in, in everything, with the exception of home runs, my first year. And the numbers and the statistics were, were just amazing. I, I amazed myself under all of those adverse—

—circumstances, you know, to have that kind of a year.

We're out, I think.

Roll twenty-four.

Hold it. Stick it.

Roll twenty-four, take three.

OK.

We're talking about your, your first years in organized ball. You played in North Carolina and you had a pretty phenomenal season. But, I would imagine there was a lot more to it than just playing baseball.

Yeah, unfortunately, I was thrown out there into the real world almost immediately. It was all right as long as we were at home, but as we played in, in Danville, Virginia and throughout the South, and Savannah, Georgia, the ugly head of prejudice would always rise its ugly head, I guess, and, [missing frames] and it was, it was not easy on anybody. It was just as hard on the white kids on my team as it was on me. I was the only black on the team, and wherever we went they had to, to construct a cubicle for me because we were not allowed to dress together, or, or whenever we would go into a town, we'd have to stay at, at a black hotel, or they would generally find a residence in the black section for us. [missing frames] And it was a very, so interesting, I thought, I could take all of that, you know, but one day we were playing, Clayton, in, in North Carolina, and they had to send our laundry out. Well, [missing frames] we took, you take off your uniform and you throw them into a nice little pile so they can take your laundry out, right? And this clubhouse, the equipment manager, very carefully, with great stealth, did he take a, take a stick and separate [laughs] my, separate my baseball clothes from the, the white guys, because mine had to go to a black cleaners and theirs had to go to another cleaners and [missing frames] it, it was an eye-opening experience to, you know...I'm, I'm glad I was able to do that, because I, I feel more mature for it; I feel much more rounded, and I guess as I, as I grew into a major league baseball player, it made a, a better person out of me.

How many years did you spend in the minor leagues?

I was lucky; I only, I played two years. I played at Savannah, Georgia and High Point, North Carolina. But I played in, in South America for two years during the winter, too. So I, maybe you might call that four years in the minor leagues, I don't know. But then I was traded in 1957. The winter of 1957, I was traded to the, to the Cardinals and I sat around a lot. I sat all of 1958, and then in 1959, I was, I was given a chance to play. Bob Gibson and I were sit-, sittin' over there by, you know, wondering what, what this is all about. So we finally got a chance to play in 1959.

Who would you describe as the greatest influence on your career at this point, during the period you were in the minor leagues and moving into the major leagues? Were, were there, was there an individual or were there a number of people who were particularly influential in the, in the development of your career?

I, I think so. I have to go back to my, my high school coach, who, even after I became a professional baseball player, I continued to play for him in the semi-, the semi-pro leagues back home. And after, after I was traded to the Cardinals, George Crowe, an old baseball player, kind of took me under his wing and he made a real good hitter out of me. And, and I, I guess, more than anything else, his philosophy of life and, and his ability to, to stay on top of his game and, and to perfect his craft made a, made a tremendous impression on me.

Do you think that there is a difference between that atmosphere and the atmosphere [bus honks] that you find in professional baseball today? I mean, you talk about people working to perfect a craft, people being concerned, perhaps, with the, the enor-, the extraordinary number of details that make up a professional baseball player's craft. Is it different now? Or people pay less attention to that?

I, I think so. You, when you talk to any older baseball player, he will say that, he will say that when he played it was more difficult, or when he played it was more or less this or that; but it has changed so radically because of the incredible amount of money that's being made right now, that, you, we have lost sight of this is really all about. Baseball is probably one of the greatest entertainment things in the world, I think. And we, we've forgotten that, that to perfect this, to, to perfect your craft, and to put on a good show, and to make whatever the person that's buying a ticket, whatever he's paying for it, make it worth his while, is, we've lost that someplace in the, in the shuffle of the big money-ness and the big business of the whole thing. And that's too bad, because—I, I work for the A's now, and I see these young kids that, that, that come to the major leagues without, without, without the tools. All the things that we learned in High Point, North Carolina and Savannah, Georgia, they're learning, at a major league level, how unfair of, of us to perpetrate this on our fans. I, I, I don't know. It's changed so radically. That's, that's unfortunate.

Let's talk a little bit about the other time. You played for the Cardinals from the 1958 season through 1969, a period of twelve years, twelve seasons. You played on three, you played in three World Series championships. That, on the surface, would sound like a very successful career. How do you remember it?

Well, I, again remember men who really took a great deal of pride in what,what they did, and in winning. All of the little things that, that we could do as a team, more or less on the field, but not necessarily. In, in order to, to, to function as a, a unit, you, you have to, to really be-, become a family, more or less. And I very carefully surrounded myself with superstars, [laughs] which is not easy. I, I was lucky. You have to be a little lucky, too. I had Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, Orlando Cepeda, Roger Maris, Stan Musial—people that are going to eventually end up in the hall of fame. And it's not by accident. These guys would come to the ballpark at three, two o'clock in the afternoon, three o'clock in the afternoon, and work on something. As I said, I, I work for the A's and it's tough to get these, the guys that I'm with now to be there on time for batting practice. There's just a, a, a different attitude, a different philosophy. The talent, the raw talent of a Bob Gibson will assure you [brakes squeal] that you're going, you're not going to go into a, a losing string of more than three or four games. He's going to come in and shut the door. We had Steve Carlton, we had Jerry Reuss—we didn't even know what he did. Now he's one of the great pitchers with the Dodgers. And as I said, there's just no accident; these guys really worked hard at, at, at being the champions, and very fortunately we, we did something that, it, it's just not, it will never be done again. I lived during a, a period of time of Willie Mays, and Roberto Clemente, and, and so many great, great athletes that will never happen again.

I hear you saying that the whole concept of championship, or the whole concept of being a champion, may be a thing of the past; that, that now, [car honks] there isn't a great personal pride in the craft; there is a personal pride in being able to earn a lot of money in whatever, in whatever way you [laughs] can earn it.

Well, I, I'm, unfortunately, I'm afraid you're absolutely correct. And, and that's too bad, because the key is the money, because in theory, the money that we're talking about that's going into personal bank accounts, would—in theory now, Clayton—go into our minor league system. We have three minor league clubs now; whereas, at one time, we had twenty. Where is the talent going to come from if it does not come from your, from, you know, from the minor leagues? And, I don't know. The picture, I, I don't like the way the picture looks.

I had a conversation some years ago with Frank Robinson, and he said that, in fact, college baseball was all but replacing the minor leagues. How do feel about that?

Well, that, that, that's great, because not only do they get a chance to, to learn their craft, but they, they're going to school, as well, and they're—Because, doing what I did, it's, it's one in a million. There are millions of kids out there that will never get, that want to play baseball, that are involved in it in either Little League, or semi-pro, or American Legion, that will never play at the Coliseum. So you have to, you have to, you have to educate yourself. You have to keep that, keep that, what's inside your head; you'll never lose that. But it's one in a million. It's good that they have a chance to go to college, as well.

Someone comes to you, let's say, theoretically, says I've got a twelve-year-old kid and he wants to play baseball. I don't want to encourage him unless I think he's got a real shot at it. What would you look for if you took him out on the field; you went out to the park and you had him run though some bases. What kind of things would you be looking for, before you'd encourage somebody to track into minor league or college, and eventually professional baseball?

Well, I, I, I guess speed is probably the only thing that I couldn't teach him. You, I, you can never teach anybody to be any faster. Coordination, you can, you can't teach that either. I could probably teach him how to be a good hitter, or a better hitter, at least, but those two things is what they look for in—

—the beginning. Can he run?

We're out.

OK.

We'll come back to that.

OK.

Roll twenty-five, take four.

Curt, I wonder if you'd tell us about any personal feelings you had after the first time you played in the World Series. Was that, I mean, obviously for a baseball player, any kid who plays baseball in America, that's the epitome; that's the place you hit it. What did, what, what was it like for you personally?

Well, it was the, the climax of a lot of hard work, and I don't really think I can put that feeling into words, Clayton, be-, because, first of all, let me give you a little background. In 1964, the Philadelphia Phillies, they were ten games in front, almost in all, in, in what's, almo-, what, oh, less than fifteen games to play, and we were out of it. We were absolutely out of it. They, August Busch had fired our manager. He had hired Leo Derosa to manage, and we won something like fifteen games out of fifteen and Philadelphia lost about eleven in a row. And all of a sudden, on the last day of the season, we had a chance to get into the World Series. And, as you say, it's, from the time you, you are in the Little League, this is really where you want to be if you're going to be a baseball player. The Yankees had already won, so we, we won the pennant on the last day of the season, and to walk into Yankee Stadium, here in New York, with Roger Maris, and Yogi Berra, and Mickey Mantle, and all of the characters of that, of that era, is, I, I, I can't put the feeling into words. It's just, I, even, even a five foot ten, you feel about eight foot tall, right? All of these ghosts of Babe Ruth rattling around in, in the, all over that old stadium in, in the Bronx, and how wonderful it was. Bob Gibson had an incredible series. I think he won three out of the f-, out of, the four games we had to win, and, and that was the year that Lou Brock came to the Cardinals. And so, so many pieces of this little puzzle fit together that, that made it such a special feeling for all of us.

Baseball has an unusually long season. I mean, you really play a lot of games. I think Pete Rose, a number of years ago, and I talked about the relative salaries and players. He said, you have to remember, we play a hundred sixty-two games—

True.

Basketball it's eighty-two, football it's sixteen. That's a long time from the spring to the fall. What kind of things happen on the course of a season? What do you go through emotionally? What are the ups and downs physically? How do you keep yourself motivated, and keep yourself in physical shape?

That is, all those things are difficult. The motivation. Staying in shape is, is the key, and I, I, I firmly believe that the time that we spent in spring training was the critical time. At this level of athletics, I think that it's the team that fields their best nine men all the time throughout those hundred and sixty-two games, and the team that makes the least amount of mistakes, is the team that's going to end up in the World Series with the money. Emotionally, it's draining; it's really tough on your families, too, being gone seventy-seven days out of the, out of the year, at least seventy-seven days out of the year. The incidence of divorce and separations in baseball is, it would [stutters] astound you. [sighs] But this is our, our, this is, we have to do that. We, we understand that we have to be away awhile, a lot, we have to continue to kick ourselves in the rear ends, and, and to kick each other in the rear ends, and to stay, really stay on top of it if you are going to be successful at it at all.

Curt, after twelve years of this kind of emotional turmoil, perhaps this kind of pressure on yourself with the St. Louis Cardinals, in 1969, the Cardinals trade you to the Philadelphia Phillies. First, how did you find out about the trade, and can you remember what your initial reaction was like?

Well, they called me on the telephone, first of all—one of Mr. Busch's lieutenants—and he said that, that I had been traded, and for, I guess it's for Richie Allen, and that, and that they were sorry to see me go, after-, goodbye. But then the next day—this is, this is how insensitive baseball, probably still is, I don't know how they do it now—but I got a, an indexed-sized card in the mail and it said my name, and my contract number, such-and-such, has been, and then there are five possibilities that you, you can be: traded, sold, optioned, or whatever. And they, they checked "traded." [laughs] You know, after twelve years, you would think that there, there would be a little more camaraderie, or if nothing else, a little more friendship. But it is a very insensitive and very businesslike means that they choose to do that. And, I, I guess I mentally prepared myself for it from the time I started playing baseball, because you always feel that at, at some time or another, it's going to happen to you. You, you're going to be one of those—they're going to check one of those boxes, like...[laughs] And, initially, I, I thought, well, I, I guess I'll go to Philadelphia. And s-, and then I, I thought about it for awhile and I, I, I ran all the things that have happened, not only to, to myself, but to, to my colleagues, and my peers, and my business acquaintances in baseball, and [sighs] I, I guess, why did, why did I, why did I want to do that? [missing frames] I knew that, that the reserve clause in my contract was illegal [missing frames] and I thought that I was the one to make the difference in, in our contracts. And I, I thought I was wealthy enough, I thought I was intelligent enough, and I thought I had the morals enough to do that.

You said something very interesting just now. You said you knew that the reserve clause was illegal. How did you know that?

Well, it, it had been challenged before and, the guy, I forget the guy's name, I guess, I don't know whatever happened to him, but the reserve clause in the contract has, has always been challenged to some degree or another. But baseball has always been, has always gotten around it by not calling our contract a contract. See, [missing frames] very legally, a contract must have a beginning and an end. But the reserve clause perpetuated this year after year, even though you only had a one-year contract, that clause in your contract perpetuated it until you died. As a matter of fact, if they resurrected Babe Ruth, the Yankees would still own him. That's how ironclad that clause in the contract was. [missing frames] So I, I spoke with several of my friends, one of which was a lawyer, and he, he said that you really ought to have a chance to work anyplace in America that you want to. This is America, and if you, if you were a plumber, they certainly couldn't stop you from going someplace else to plumb. And I, I, and I agreed with him. And in many instances, Clayton, people have said that I didn't want to go to Philadelphia, which has noth-, Philadelphia has [laughs] nothing to do with anything. I think that wherever it was that they wanted to assign my contract, I would not have gone, in-, inasmuch as I wanted to see what my talent was really worth on the open market. And, and very fairly, I should have had that opportunity.

You, subsequent to this, initiated a court action. Can you tell us a little bit about how that came together? How, how was the decision made specifically, and I bel-, I believe the court action was against both the Cardinals and against Major League Baseball.

Yes, well—

How did, how, how was all that generated? How did your friend advise you to proceed from, from this point?

Well, that's, golly, I'll have to go way back in my little floppy disk here, because, at, at that time, no one was really sure exactly how these twenty-six millionaires were going to react to my suing them. And, and so what I really needed was the rest of the players on my side. So we, we called a meeting with all the player representatives in—let's see, where were we?—in Mexico City or somewhere. No, we were in Puerto Rico. And, you have to understand, the naietivity [sic] of baseball players at that time. [missing footage] We thought getting twenty thousand dollars a year was a fair share of this incredible amount of revenue that's being made in baseball. And I can, I can think of several real superstars who were at this meeting: Reggie Jackson, I, I, I imagine, was getting thirty grand a year for this enormous talent that he had. So, anyway, make a long story short, I, I addressed this, this meeting of the player representatives, and I, I told them that, that I, what I was going to do. I was going to take this as far as my money would allow me to take it and—

—and, it isn't a—

Let's go, when we come back—

Camera roll twenty-six, take five.

OK. Curt, let's go back again to this period when you have, you made the decision that you are not going to have yourself bought and sold like a piece of beef in the market and, among the other things that you do, is you get together with the player representatives of Major League Baseball, and you have a meeting. Let's, let's talk about that meeting. Where—

Well—

—it took place and who was there?

The meeting was in Puerto Rico, and this is a little sketchy now, Clayton, Clayton, but I, remember Tom Haller was there, and Reggie Jackson was there, and Orlando Cepeda was there. Jim Davenport was there. All of the player representatives were there, and I wanted to, to get a feeling of what I was really getting myself into and if I was going to get their support or not. And I firmly believe right now that if three of these people would have, would have said, OK, we're on your side. We're not going to play unless we make this better, or more, pardon me, equitable, for the athlete. Well, I, I left them with all of my ideas. You know, at that time, we didn't have a pension fund, we didn't have an escal-, a cost-of-living escalation clause in our contracts. At that, at that time, the, the minimum salary was fifteen thousand dollars a year, or thereabouts. And, and, with this enormous amount of money being made in television, we were getting the very short end of a very long stick. So I came back to the states and I, I came here to New York and I spoke with Marvin Miller, who was the executive director of the Players Association [missing frames] at the time, and he said, Curt, I want you to go back to California, and I want you to think about what you're getting ready, what you're getting yourself in for, because this is going to be a fight to the finish, if, if in fact that's what you want. And I guess there's some-, something about suing the kind of people that own baseball teams that, that's kind of frightening. These are really powerful men; not only do they own baseball teams, but they, they own everything else in this hemisphere. [missing frames] So, I, I thought about it for awhile and I, [sighs] I recalled some of the horror stories that I had, that I had confronted, been confronted with in baseball, with men getting, getting traded in between double-headers, men learning that they've been traded on the way to the ballpark, men being traded from one clubhouse to the other, and, and I knew that at one time in a baseball player's career, he really ought to have a chance to, to own himself. And, and I guess more than any-, anything else, that was the motivation for it.

How did the suit then proceed? You had to, of course, be represented by counsel—

Yes, right.

—you had to make a decision about who your counsel would be. How did, how did all that—

Well, Mar-, I spoke again with Mar-, I came back to New York here, and I, I spoke again with Marvin Miller, and he and Justice Arthur Goldberg had been colleagues in the, in the steel unions or something, and he said, well, if, if you in fact want to do this, then we might as well get the best lawyer we can find. And we, we spoke with Justice Goldberg and he, he agreed to take our case. And all of a sudden I had one of the, one of the most famous lawyers in the world.

How, once the, once the suit was underway, once the players, for example, the player representatives and other baseball players, your former teammates, for example, once it had all started, did their reaction change at all? Did they have a different—

No, no, not at, not at all, which really bothered me because the, the trial here in New York in the Supreme Court last [sic] six weeks, and here are some of the most important issues in sports—not just in baseball—being argued in open court. What they, what they feared was guilt by association, I think, and my roommate Bob Gibson was the only one that showed up. Jackie Robinson showed up, Jim Brosnan, several other [lights dim] athletes that were no longer athletes—

We lost the light.

Take six.

Curt, we're talking about the trial that took place in New York City over a period of six weeks and the attitude of, of guys who were directly involved. I mean, Major League Baseball players had their careers hanging on the outcome of this proceeding. And yet, no one seemed to be very interested.

[sighs] That's, that's so extraordinary because it, it affected everybody, every, every baseball player, and, and as time went along, other sports as well. But, again, you have to understand the choke hold that this contract has over you and there, not only are there clauses in, in the, in this contract that, that could probably get you fired very easily if you, if they saw fit. They, they could probably bury you, which would be even worse. And it was just, it's just so, it was so unfortunate that, that we found ourselves in that situation with just nothing we could do to get out of it, and I don't blame these guys at all, because the absolute fear of the man upstairs is a very real one.

Looking back at that period, sort of reflecting on it now, when you went into court, after you talked with Goldberg, after you talked perhaps with other people in the legal profession, what did you think your chances were?

I thought my chances were good. [missing frames] Realistically, this is what we were arguing: Should one person be able to own another person for his entire life? Well, the, Abraham Lincoln solved that problem for us, didn't he? And, as a matter of fact, this is what the, the Supreme Court ruled: Yes, Mr. Flood, they said. You're absolutely right. [missing frames] One person should not be able to own another person, be it a baseball player or whatever. But we're not going to do anything about it. Now, I do imagine that ought to scare everybody in this country, when, when you cannot get relief from the Supreme Court of the United States of America on something as fundamental as your being bought, and sold, and/or owned. That ought to be a pretty frightening statement to make.

I find, in reading the decision, which I've had an opportunity to do, [machinery noise] perhaps the only refreshing part of it is the dissenting opinion, which, which in fact held that your view was indeed correct, and that this situation shouldn't be correct. Were you in any way at the time encouraged by that?

Well, inasmuch as we lost, you know, that just kind of broke my heart. I had found it necessary to leave this country and—where was I?—I guess I was in Spain at the time, Clayton, and I, you have to understand, the, the three World Series that, that we played in, made this face one that is easily recognizable. And everywhere I would go, I, I would have to discuss the Su-, the Supreme Court ruling or discuss its possibilities, if nothing else, and it became just very difficult for me. So I decided to go to Europe for awhile and just to kind of take it easy. And, and they sent me the, the, the rulings through the mail, and I was just absolutely floored by it. I, I just couldn't imagine losing this case. And then afterwards, two other baseball players argued the same, the very same issues, and they won several millions of dollars, as a matter of fact, in, in the, in the lower court.

That was Andy Messersmith of—

Yeah.

—the Dodgers, and—

And Rollie Fingers.

And Rollie Fingers, then of the Oakland Athletics.

Yes.

Now, what was the difference between the, the two? What, was there any difference between your argument and theirs? What, what changed?

[shakes head] Well, I don't know. I would like not to think it was the obvious, them being white and my being black. I would like to think not; I, I do imagine it had something to do with it. I do think that [sigh] the powers that be saw the writing on the wall and, and that eventually this, this very unfair clause in our contracts would be changed anyway. So, as Messersmith and, and the other kid came along, they thought they better, they better give us some relief, if, if nothing else.

Looking at what has changed between the time, let's say 1969, when you initiated this action, and the condition that baseball is in now, would you discuss a little bit? Do you think the decision that was rendered by the owners of baseball has put them in an awkward position? Have players now, do you think they ask for too much? Has the game, perhaps the balance tipped the other way?

Unfortunately, you're, you're so right. And as we said before, [car honks] that is really too bad because what we initially wanted was just a fair, equitable share of the money that we, as perf-, performers and entertainers, or whatever you want to call us, were generating for, for baseball. Now all that money, the millions of dollars that you read about, it goes right out of baseball, and right out of our minor league systems. Higher ticket prices, higher hot dog prices, and it just knocks over dominoes.

So a conflict between the owners and the players came to cost, most of all, the fans.

The fans.

They're the ones that sort of are paying the freight for both sides.

Then, then, they, unless they, they rebel a little bit, they, they will forever pay, and, with the exception, with one exception: television has dumped a lot of money into, into, into all sports—

—ours especially, because we play so many games.

We out?

Stick it.

Roll twenty-seven, take seven.

OK.

Curt, when I was a kid, there were sixteen major league ball teams, eight in each league, and I think I knew every player on every team in those two, two leagues. We were talking earlier and you said some kids nowadays, as fast a player's out of sight, he's out of mind.

That's, that's so true. I, I recall this, this last spring we were in Arizona, and I was having a chance to talk to some young kids in the, in the outfield, seventeen, eighteen-year-old kids and we were talking about hitting, and I was mentioning some of the great, great athletes that I've played with, and, and against, Willie Mays, and Clemente, and Jackie Robinson, and Roy Campanella, and they knew all of those with the exception of Roy Campanella. And these are, these are little black children, more or less. I said, how dare you be black and not know who this great, great, great athlete was. But, as you say, it's out of sight, out of mind.

Looking back on a compelling history, certainly for all of us listening to you talk, the incredible history that you, that you've experienced, any regrets? Anything that you'd have done differently, if you had an opportunity to do it again?

Well, [sighs] I, I don't think so. [missing frames] I think whoever chose me to play this role, I, I think they, they chose the right guy. I, I, I played it right till the end. Going to the Supreme Court cost not only my career, but several millions of dollars, as well. [missing frames] And [sighs] probably, the, the people that suffered right along with me, my family. You know, you take a hundred thousand dollars out of, out of your, your wife's yearly checking account, and we all suffered right, right along with, with myself. And I, I do hope that some of these young kids, you know, appreciated, appreciate Jackie Robinson, and Roy Campanella, and Frank Robinson, and Bill Russell, and the black pioneers that made a lot of things real, really possible for, not only for the young blacks that are going to come along, but for young athletes, per se.

How would you like people to remember Curt Flood? If somebody twenty, fifty, a hundred years down the road [cars honks] brings up the name Curt Flood in conversation, how would you like to be remembered?

Well, I, I, hope, certainly, I hope not for the Supreme Court decision, because that's the only thing I've ever lost in my life. [missing frames] I did play in three World Series, and I won the Golden Glove award seven times and, and that is not easy when you play the same position as Willie Mays. [laughs] I hope they remember some of the, some of the great things, the great times that, that, that we had. I played on some fine teams with some fine, fine young men and, m-, more than the Supreme Court decision, I hope they remember that I, I, I gave a 100 percent all the time. [missing frames]

If you were asked to describe what the term champion means, what would you say? What would you say to kids? What would you say to people at a, at a party, if somebody said, What is a champion? [missing frames]

Well, I, I think a champion is probably [car honks] a winner in more ways than having more runs on the scoreboard. There's, there's, you can lose the ballgame but you can, you can certainly, as I said before, give of yourself, and give of your strength, and, and, and play the game by the rules, and, and try as hard as you possibly can. I think that is the profile of a champion. [missing frames]

OK. Yeah, we're done now. Let's stop for a moment.