On the occasion of Black History Month, ESPN.com takes a look at the state of our games. Each sport has made its own advances in racial equality, but each also has its own challenges still to face. Today, Bob Klapisch reports on baseball in light of the recent controversy over John Rocker's race-related comments.

The tidal wave of protest has drenched us all -- rightfully so, considering the wounds John Rocker inflicted on so many people. But while the Braves' reliever is left to contemplate his rage against gays and minorities -- and the demons that drove him to speak so recklessly to Sports Illustrated -- the question remains: Who else in baseball feels this way?

Hardly anyone, thankfully.

Judging by the reaction of Rocker's own teammates, Rocker's prejudices are the exception, not the rule. Not one member of the Braves' organization -- neither the players, nor members of the front office -- has sought to defend Rocker.

In fact, just the other day, Eddie Perez told the New York Daily News that if he were the commissioner, left to decide on Rocker's punishment, his verdict would be to "send someone to kill him."

"That's how I felt," the Venezuelan-born catcher said. "A lot of my friends from Latin America, that's how they felt, too. I'm glad (Rocker) isn't going with us to Venezuela (in March for two exhibition games), because something ugly would happen to him."

The uprising against Rocker speaks to the integration in today's clubhouses -- indeed, in the union itself, half of whose constituents are either Latin or African American. Major leaguers today are more racially sensitive because society, as a whole, is more enlightened than even 20 years ago.

But there's another reason why ballplayers live in relative harmony. For the last six years, Major League Baseball and the Players Association have co-sponsored a three-day orientation for first-year prospects -- a crash course in culture, the media and, yes, race.

Set in a classroom-like atmosphere in a facility in outside of Washington, D.C., these neophytes are taught how to get along with the press and fans and, ultimately, each other. It's how a surfer from Southern California learns to see life through the eyes of a Puerto Rican, and how a street-wise kid from Brooklyn begins to appreciate the cultural divide with a black player from Alabama.

"It's one of the greatest programs I've ever seen. It works," MLB spokesman Patrick Courtney said. Every January, each team is required to send its three top players for the 3-4 day session, although there's no limit on enrollment.

This year, in the wake of the Rocker fiasco, more attention than ever was paid to racial sensitivity. The experiment was originally called The Rookie Career Development Program -- complete with speeches, film, even role-playing with the help of professional actors -- and thanks to its success, baseball has gradually filtered out its once detectable racist element.

No one's in a better position to judge the positive trend than Omar Minaya, the Mets' assistant general manager and the game's highest-ranking Latin executive. Like any other fair-minded person, Minaya abhors what Rocker stands for, although he's quite sure "you don't find that in players today.

"I mean, this is the year 2000, not 1950, so you like to think that times have changed," Minaya said. Yet, while it's true that racism is evaporating in the clubhouse, minorities are still struggling for a foothold in the front office.

Currently, there are no black or Latin general managers in either league, even though Minaya is on everyone's short list. He's bright, well-spoken, well-liked and respected by the Mets, and has the full endorsement of his boss, GM Steve Phillips.

"I think Omar would make a terrific general manager," Phillips said this winter, when Minaya was busy interviewing for openings in Colorado and Milwaukee. In both instances, however, he was passed over, left to wonder what it'll take for baseball to recognize this glaring deficit.

At least there's been some progress in the managerial ranks, where five minorities are currently working. Jerry Manuel (White Sox), Don Baylor (Cubs), Dusty Baker (Giants), Felipe Alou (Expos) and Davey Lopes (Brewers) are the trend-setters, and there are plenty of good candidates -- like the Yankees' Willie Randolph and Chris Chambliss -- waiting for their chance, too.

For now, however, baseball will have to measure its progress by the players' themselves. And, to a man, they've distanced themselves from Rocker -- even hard-boiled, tough-guys like David Wells, who sure looks like a redneck, but instead acts and sounds like a 21st century man.

In fact, Wells didn't hesitate to call Rocker "an idiot" and suggested not even a paid bodyguard would -- or should -- protect the Braves' pitcher. For anyone who doubts the sincerity of Wells' sentiments, remember, he was the first Yankee to befriend Hideki Irabu in 1997, when the Bombers were still smoldering over the $12 million contract the Japanese pitcher received before ever throwing a pitch in this country.

Irabu didn't speak English, and Japanese certainly was lost on Wells. Instead, the two men were linked by a common denominator -- a love of beer. Maybe the dialogue was limited, but teammates say the friendship was real.

Ultimately, Irabu, shy and aloof, never gained full acceptance from the Yankees. But thanks to Wells, race was never an issue.

Bob Klapisch of the Bergen (N.J.) Record is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.