Professional sports commissioners and team owners should follow President Obama's lead and ban LGBT discrimination on the field and in the locker room, in boardrooms and contracting, among fans and employees -- and they should do it now, in this national month of Gay Pride.
After seeing 42, I heard and read too many good things about Opening Day to resist it, and I'm glad I didn't. It is the perfect antidote to the sappy pablum of 42, and I can't imagine another Robinson book being better than this one.
I still have the photograph of my brother and me shaking hands with Pee Wee Reese and Jackie Robinson. As I look at it, my mind goes back to a balmy evening in April of 1954. I was 15 years old and my father proudly brought his two sons to the first baseball game of our lives.
42 is a movie about how personal courage can change the world. Courage comes in many forms. Last week we were reminded of the incredible courage of common citizens and first responders in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon attacks.
While this legislation is hardly a final answer, it is at least a first step and would demonstrate that our leaders have the backbone to stand up for the American people in the face of opposition and threats from a well-funded and obstinate gun lobby.
More than two decades before the civil rights legislation of the 60s and more than ten years before the Supreme Court's 1954 decision -- a quiet drama was beginning in Brooklyn, a drama that one observer later would call "perhaps the most visible single desegregation action ever taken."
In telling Robinson's story, Helgeland doesn't dwell on the endless barrage of racist bile that Robinson (and his wife) endured, but he doesn't shy from it either. As a result, Robinson's achievement takes on more meaning and more power.