Jackie Robinson broke baseball's color barrier with the Brooklyn Dodgers 60 years ago, and Barry Bonds is approaching the career home run record, but if fans look closely at the playing field today, they won't see many African American players.

Just 8.4 percent of players on 2006 major-league rosters were African American, the lowest percentage in 20 years and a remarkable drop from the peak of 27 percent in 1975, according to the Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport at the University of Central Florida.

It's not that baseball hasn't become more diverse -- last year 29.4 percent of big-leaguers were Latino and 2.4 percent were Asian -- but the global reach often ignores America's inner-city youth who seem more inclined to embrace basketball and football.

Several African Americans associated with baseball cited economic concerns and changes in young African Americans' perceptions of the game as reasons for declining interest.

"I definitely am concerned, and there are a lot of things that can be done about it," said Derrek Lee, the Chicago Cubs first baseman from Sacramento.

Kids, he says, are bombarded by images of basketball stars such as LeBron James and Kobe Bryant, but not African American baseball stars such as reigning National League Most Valuable Player Ryan Howard or Florida Marlins pitcher Dontrelle Willis, one of only 13 African American pitchers in big-league history to win 20 games in a season.

"Baseball is a sport where you need to get organized," Lee said. "We can provide facilities and donate bats, gloves, shoes and uniforms. It's not like going to a park and shooting hoops with your buddies."

Oakland A's outfielder Milton Bradley is doing his part. Despite his bad-boy image, Bradley is among the most socially conscious athletes, and he has started the Milton Bradley Baseball Academy in his hometown of Long Beach to help attract youngsters. As a youth, Bradley was nudged toward the game.

"I lived across the street from a Little League coach," Bradley said, "and he came over one day, knocked on the door and asked my mom, 'Can your son play Little League?' She said she couldn't afford it, but he said, 'Don't worry about it; I'll take care of it.'

"And that's how I got started. My mom wouldn't let me play football."

But present African American youth culture, dominated by hip-hop, regards basketball and football as glamorous.

"I ask so many black kids why they don't play baseball," Arizona Diamondbacks second baseman Orlando Hudson said, "and they say, 'It's a white man's game -- no black man is going to make it in baseball.' "

Teammate Tony Clark said African American athletes often see other sports as a quicker path to prosperity. Even Clark, who played college basketball at Arizona and San Diego State, admitted he wouldn't have chosen baseball if he hadn't injured his back playing basketball.

Lee, who was recruited to play basketball at North Carolina but instead signed with the San Diego Padres as a first-round draft choice, bristles at the notion baseball is a white man's game.

"It's so untrue," he said.

Still, when baseball pauses to pay tribute to Jackie Robinson's legacy today, it will not be able to escape the facts.

When the Dodgers take the field tonight after honoring Robinson during pregame ceremonies, their lineup likely will include only one African American, Juan Pierre. Pitcher C.C. Sabathia, who with Willis is among the few African American starting pitchers in the majors, last year was the only African American player on the Cleveland Indians, a franchise that made Larry Doby the first black player in the American League and Frank Robinson the majors' first black manager.

Bonds said the problem goes beyond dwindling numbers.

"Let white baseball answer that question," fumed the Giants slugger, the game's most high-profile African American. "They need to answer it. ... I am not one of the people who own baseball.

"Why are there no black owners? Why isn't there one black GM?" he asked, forgetting about Ken Williams of the Chicago White Sox. "You need to get that answer from (baseball owners). Only that club has the answer. Don't ask me."

Reminded that Frank Robinson, who is African American, is working with Commissioner Bud Selig on solutions to the problem, Bonds called the Hall of Fame player's involvement "a smoke screen," and argued against the belief that the NBA is more appealing to inner-city youth.

"Basketball is not more glamorous," he insisted. "Those (NBA owners) know how to deal with it; this club (baseball owners) doesn't. ... I'm never going to be diplomatic."

Dusty Baker, a multisport star at Del Campo High School in Fair Oaks before playing 19 seasons in the major leagues, agrees that baseball management bears some responsibility for rekindling a passion for the game in America's inner cities.

"We're spending so much money on baseball abroad," said Baker, the former Giants and Cubs manager. "Maybe we should be spending some money to get some home kids involved."

Lee also voiced concern over the lack of adequate baseball facilities in inner cities.

"I think baseball is missing out because there's a lot of inner-city kids who would be great baseball players," Lee said. "Sacramento is a great baseball city, but in Del Paso Heights, they don't have Little League anymore. It's a matter of funding."

Many are working toward changing that. In addition to Bradley, former A's pitcher Mike Norris wants to open a baseball academy in Oakland and has approached Selig about the idea. Sabathia sponsors a Little League team in Vallejo, his hometown. Lee sees hope in programs such as RBI (Reviving Baseball in Inner Cities), involving more than 120,000 youths, and the Urban Youth Academy in Compton, which has a similar facility planned for Washington, D.C.

"These programs are going to help us," Selig said during spring training. "The inner cities might have been ignored for a while, but not anymore."

Yet some who were active during the heyday of African American baseball participation in the 1970s are pessimistic. They've said African American youngsters don't have the same passion for the game and don't appreciate its history.

"That wasn't the case when I was growing up," said New York Mets coach Jerry Manuel of Rancho Cordova, a former infielder whose father, Lorenzo Manuel, barnstormed with Negro League players.

"I was aware of the history. What Jackie Robinson did was meaningful to me. Today's African American players just aren't as involved in social issues as people like Jackie and Jim Brown were. Their voices are muted today.

"We have to do whatever we can to promote the sport, and it starts at the Little League level," Manuel said.

"The irony is that MLB is trying to go global, but it's not taking care of things at home."