It had to be Jackie Robinson, back then, in 1947.
It had to be the college-educated, military-hardened former UCLA football star: the one with the even temperament and total understanding of what he was about to do. It couldn’t be Josh Gibson, the hard-hitting, hard-living legend of the Negro leagues. It couldn't be Don Newcombe, the 19-year-old future star who, by his own admission, wasn’t yet ready.
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It had to be Robinson, for the same reason it had to be Rosa Parks eight years later, for the same reason it couldn’t be Claudette Colvin.