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As long as I can remember, I have played baseball. My dad would come home from work and my mom, my sister, my older brother and me would play baseball in our yard in upstate New York during the spring and the summer months. In 1992, we moved to Miami, Florida and I played organized baseball for the first time. I was six (6) years old. I loved baseball so much that I convinced my parents to let me play year round. They said I could, as long as I got good grades in school. When I wasn’t playing baseball, I watched baseball games on television, or I played baseball video games. I even got to go to a few professional games. My favorite baseball players are Ken Griffey Jr. of the Seattle Mariners, Sandy Alomar of the Cleveland Indians, and Brett Boone of the Atlanta Braves. Whenever I am on the baseball diamond, I dream of making plays and hitting the ball like those guys. When I told my dad this, he smiled and said “Son when I was your age, I dreamt the same thing, only my heroes were not allowed to play in the major leagues.” I asked him why not, and he replied “only the ball was white.” Puzzled and not understanding what he meant, I asked him to explain. He said, “Rodney, there was a time in America when none of