When Jack Roosevelt Robinson stepped onto Brooklyn’s Ebbets Field on April 15, 1947, he not only changed the face of professional baseball in America. In ways subtle and profound, he changed the nation itself. Breaking baseball’s color barrier, Robinson embarked on a journey that brought him renown, respect and, by all accounts, an early death, at 53, from the stress he suffered, on and off the ball field, as the first African-American player in the major leagues.

I grew up as a New York Giant fan, with my earliest real memory being thrown up into the air by my father when Bobby Thompson hit "the shot heard round the world" in the 1951 playoffs. Rooting against the Dodgers is most likely in my genes. However, there was one Dodger who I was told never to disrespect in any manner -- Jack Robinson. My mother explained to me why I had to remain silent rather than boo Jack Robinson, or that it was OK to cheer for him to get a hit -- it was because of what he repesented as a person and what he did for America.

So, baseball fan or not, take a moment to remember what Jack Robinson did 65 years ago this Sunday.

Paix, mes amis.

Of course, I could cheer and go nuts every time my favorite baseball player of all time -- Willie Mays -- came to bat, ran the bases, caught the ball with his classic "basket catch", or threw the ball like it was shot out of a canon.