Jimmy Sez Film Review: Reggie

When writing The New York Yankees All-Time All-Stars, one of the hardest decisions I had to make was who to put in the last outfield spot on the bench. It was so tough that in the end I kept Hall of Famers Rickey Henderson and Dave Winfield as well as Yankee legends Roger Maris and Paul O'Neill on the outside looking in. Ultimately, I chose Reggie Jackson to round out the lineup. A controversial choice to be sure, but then again, controversy was kind of his thing.

By the end of his Yankee tenure, Reggie Jackson was all smiles.
tradingcarddb.com/Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain

It's no surprise, then, that earlier this year Jackson was the subject of a documentary covering his brilliant, tumultuous career, even if we're now more than four decades past the prime of it. While Reggie does hit all the familiar notes that you'd expect in a story about Mr. October, it aims to dig deeper into the man behind the big ego and mostly hits the target by letting Jackson tell his own story. I was pleasantly surprised by the fresh perspectives offered up and learned quite a bit in the almost two hours of running time. Here are some of the highlights.

A peek behind the curtain

Unlike most documentaries of this type, Reggie doesn't rely heavily on those who played with or against Jackson during his career to drive the narrative. The guest list is fairly limited and includes only a few of his former teammates in Oakland (the omission of any former Yankee teammates was probably purposeful). Furthermore, the guests serve only as a catalyst to spark Jackson's reflections on his life experiences and share them with the audience.

Most of the movie features Reggie speaking directly into the camera, and the results are good. You can make the argument that this project served almost as a form of therapy for the main character, as he makes it clear from the outset that he's focused on offering up the truth, or at least the full context of his story from his perspective. I think he succeeds in unraveling what is a complicated legacy for the duration of the film.

Jackson's experience as a black man in a white man's world and all of the struggles that have come along with that are at the heart of Reggie. Issues with race aren't just a common theme in Reggie's life. As he explains, racial tension defines who he is as a person to this day, and it started at an early age.

Growing up in a predominantly white suburb of Philadelphia was tough for Jackson as he felt he was perpetually fighting an uphill battle. Reggie re-counts the details of some of those struggles and heard of even worse treatment that his father experienced while playing baseball in the Negro Leagues as a young man.

When Jackson began his professional baseball career he was assigned to play in Birmingham, AL for an affiliate of the Kansas City A's. There, he experienced the full force of racial segregation and called home to his dad frequently for advice on how to handle it. Rollie Fingers and Joe Rudi - teammates in Birmingham who would follow Jackson to the big leagues - even recall how they would have to sneak Jackson into hotels and bring food out to him from restaurants that wouldn't serve blacks. This was less than 60 years ago.

By the time Reggie broke into the majors for good, the A's had moved to Oakland, a far more racially progressive place than Birmingham. While he enjoyed early success as a player, he was still met with resistance in the form of tight-pocketed owner Charlie Finley. Taking a cue from Curt Flood, Jackson perceived Finley's stingy ways and baseball's backwards treatment of players as a form of slavery and held out of spring training one year until he received a significant increase on his $20,000 salary. He did finally get his raise, but was benched seemingly as a punishment for it. This was clearly a watershed moment in Jackson's life and career.

The anger Jackson felt up to this point drove him to do great things on the field. Coming off the bench, he was called upon to pinch hit with the bases loaded in a game against the Royals. He channeled that anger, hit a grand slam to win the game, and directed a choice gesture at Charlie Finley when crossing home plate. From that point on, he decided that he was going to speak his mind publicly and prove that Finley didn't own him.

With this mentality, Jackson was the driving force of a three-peat championship run in Oakland. In a brief but revealing conversation with Julius Erving, the two superstars of the 1970's articulate the reasoning behind the aggressive persona that Jackson took on. As young, black athletes the uphill battle they fought in America understandably brewed anger and resentment within them and there were two models for dealing with it. The Jackie Robinson way of turning the other cheek, which Dr. J embraced, or the Jim Brown way of loudly voicing your opinion.

Reggie admired Jackie Robinson, but he could relate much more closely to Jim Brown. In order to not be considered a second class citizen, he had to outdistance himself from the crowd not just with his play on the field, but with his words and actions too.

Reggie swung for the fences with the Yankees and it paid off.
Jim Accordino/Wikimedia Commons

Jackson's aggressive pursuit of success certainly got him noticed, as Reggie then shifts focus to his free agency and courtship with the Yankees. Most of what's covered during the Yankee years is familiar territory. Jackson does make it clear that he felt there was a racial undertone to the treatment he received from Billy Martin, which is not surprising. There are two other tidbits that make the Yankee coverage worthwhile.

In re-living the frenzy that took place during his free agency, Jackson makes the point that money and fame was not what he was after, despite what was written about him at the time. He prioritized winning over anything else, and it's tough to argue against that. He turned down offers that included a salary of up to $1 million annually in favor of George Steinbrenner's $600,000 per year offer. In the Yankees he saw a team on the cusp of winning and in Steinbrenner he saw an owner that was willing to spend whatever it took to win. He wasn't wrong.

The other gem was in a brief conversation that Jackson has with his brother about his heroics in Game Six of the 1977 World Series. His brother was on the other side of the world on a military base as it happened, but that didn't stop him from celebrating the achievement.

The remainder of Reggie examines his life in baseball after his playing career. Disappointed with the lack of black representation in front offices across baseball, Jackson sought to make a difference with his trademark aggressive approach. Starting as a special advisor to George Steinbrenner with the Yankees in the early 1990's, his ultimate goal was to become part owner of a major league team.

Years later two ideal opportunities presented themselves to Jackson, one to buy the Oakland A's and one a little further south to buy the Dodgers. In each case, he secured significant financial backing to place competitive bids, but in each case he was rejected. In his most passionate plea of the film, Reggie makes the case that it was his skin color that that prevented his bids from being accepted, and that fact has depressed him ever since.

While he stuck around in the Yankee front office after those failed bids, Jackson saw the writing on the wall after George Steinbrenner died. He was there for decoration, and not because anybody else in the Yankee front office actually valued his input. In a filmed conversation with Hal Steinbrenner, he confronts him directly with his concerns about the lack of diversity in baseball. Hal's response was unfortunately not surprising at all. Like a politician, he purposefully misses the entire point of the question and uses many words to say nothing of substance while offering back-handed compliments to Reggie.

Jackson's tenure as a Yankee executive left him wanting more.
Googie man/Wikimedia Commons

Reggie concludes with the main character finding a home in Houston where his opinion is valued and he feels he can affect change. With the Astros since 2021, he's been implementing youth programs to get kids involved in baseball and gets involved as a liaison between players, management and ownership. He's not exactly where he wants to be yet, but he's still aggressively pursuing that dream and not taking no for an answer.

It's safe to say I like Reggie Jackson a bit more after watching Reggie than I did before. There's a lot underneath that big ego that's worth learning about.

Reverence for those who came before him

Everyone knows that Reggie Jackson was a singular baseball talent, but what also comes across loud and clear in the film is that before he was a great baseball player, he was a huge fan. When describing his first days as a big leaguer in 1967, he still seems star struck by meeting Mickey Mantle, especially because The Mick knew him by name with no introduction needed. You get the feeling that his career could have ended that day and he still would have been satisfied with it.

When his career began, Jackson also felt an obligation to continue the legacy of the players he looked up to as heroes in his youth. That included Satchell Paige, Jackie Robinson, Frank Robinson, and especially Hank Aaron. In the conversation filmed between Aaron and Jackson for Reggie, the respect and admiration between the two of them was palpable, even if their reputations were drastically different throughout their careers.

As an homage to Hank Aaron, Reggie wore number 44 with the Yankees.
Greenreaper13/Wikimedia Commons

During Jackson's first All-Star game appearance in 1969, he attributed a lot of his success to the tutelage of Joe DiMaggio, who was an A's coach during his rookie season. He also reached out to Willie Mays, Ernie Banks, and Billy Williams for autographs, proving that even as a superstar himself, he was still a fan at heart.

At the 1972 World Series, the first of Oakland's three-peat, Jackie Robinson spoke before Game One at home plate and mentioned while he's happy with the racial progress made in Major League Baseball, that he'll be more satisfied when he sees black faces as coaches and managers. Jackson was sidelined for the series with a leg injury, but was clearly listening to Robinson's words and made it his business to satisfy his wish ever since.

Even when Reggie was on top of the baseball world after his three home runs in Game Six of the 1977 World Series, his thoughts were focused on baseball heroes of the past. In the postgame interview he said he was just happy to be in the same conversation with Mantle, Mays, Aaron and Clemente for at least one night of his career. 

If Jackson had succeeded in his quest to own a baseball team, there was something in it for his heroes as well. When describing the failed bids he mentioned that he was saving honorary shares for Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Frank Robinson and Bob Gibson. Somewhere, Jackie Robinson was smiling.

Reggie Jackson's love and respect for baseball runs far deeper than I would have imagined, and that was refreshing to see.

An unlikely role model

When I was a kid, I knew Dave Stewart as the tough-as-nails big game pitcher who won World Series with both the Oakland A's and Toronto Blue Jays. Thanks to Reggie, I learned a lot more about Stewart and his history with Jackson.

First, I learned that Stewart may rival Walter Payton as being the toughest guy with the softest voice in sports history. Once I got over that shock, I learned that he grew up in Oakland and was an A's season ticket holder while Jackson played there.

Jackson noticed him hanging around the Oakland Coliseum often and eventually offered him tickets, which he didn't need. To return the nice gesture, Stewart and his friends looked after the fancy sports cars that Jackson would drive to the ballpark to make sure he wouldn't come back to any scuff marks. Their friendship blossomed, and Jackson would give Stewart rides to and from the coliseum on a regular basis.

During their conversation in Reggie, Stewart vocalizes the impact that Jackson had on him in that he showed him the importance of being active with young fans in the community during his playing days. The impact clearly extends beyond that though. Stewart was at his best when pitching in the playoffs, and he can probably thank Reggie for showing him that true stars shine in Ocotber.

Even more importantly for Jackson, Stewart has also done his part to make sure there is black representation in baseball beyond the playing field. In his post-playing career he has served as a pitching coach, agent, assistant GM and GM for numerous organizations.

The Jackson-Stewart relationship makes perfect sense in hindsight, but was not on my radar at all before watching Reggie. Consider it the cherry on top of a solid documentary.


You can watch Reggie here if you have Amazon Prime.

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