In March, Baltimore Orioles outfielder Adam Jones represented our country as a member of Team USA in the World Baseball Classic.

During the tournament, Jones made a highlight-reel catch to preserve a win over the Dominican Republic, the favorite to win the tournament.

Two months later, Jones was the subject of racial slurs and abuse in a game against the Boston Red Sox at Fenway Park.

“A disrespectful fan threw a bag of peanuts at me,’’ Jones told reporters after the game. “I was called the N-word a handful of times tonight. Thanks. Pretty awesome.’’

Per history, when black people have put a spotlight on racism, white people often downplay the seriousness of the accusations.

An astute reader can pick up on what’s going on here.

Albert Breer, a Massachusetts native and writer for The Monday Morning Quarterback (part of Sports Illustrated’s network) tweeted that he had never seen racism at Fenway and that he shouldn’t be questioned when asking for solid proof of Jones’ incident taking place. Breer didn’t believe the claims until Mike Lupica, a white sportswriter, reported that fans at Fenway heard the slurs toward Jones.

That’s like me saying the sexual harassment of a woman didn’t take place until I got proof from another man.

That sounds stupid, right?

And just because Breer didn’t see racism doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Apparently, current and retired black athletes such as Pumpsie Green (The Red Sox’s first black player), Bill Russell, Joel Ward, P.K. Subban and Jones all had racially charged incidents in Boston, but that wasn’t enough evidence for Breer to think he might be mistaken.

It goes to show how some white people, even the ones like Breer who cover the NFL, where 70 percent of the players are black, often have a hard time believing racism exists.

Jones represented our country in the WBC, but when it came down to supporting him when he needed it most, many Boston sports fans looked the other way.

“It’s different,’’ he told USA Today on May 2. “Very unfortunate. I heard there was 59 or 60 ejections tonight in the ballpark. It is what it is, right. I just go out and play baseball. It’s unfortunate that people need to resort to those type of epithets to degrade another human being. I’m trying to make a living for myself and for my family.

“It’s unfortunate. The best thing about myself is that I continue to move on, and still play the game hard. Let people be who they are. Let them show their true colors.’’

And this isn’t Jones’ first brush with controversy. Last season amid Colin Kaepernick’s protests during the national anthem, Jones told the press why black baseball players are hesitant to speak out on the issues that have divided our country.

“Baseball is a white man’s sport. We have two strikes against us already,” Jones told USA Today Sports in September, “so you might as well not kick yourself out of the game. In football, you can’t kick them out. You need those players. In baseball, they don’t need us.”

And what has made things worse – none of his teammates has publicly stepped up.

The apologies and standing ovations Jones received in the aftermath of the racial taunts were short-sighted at best. It was the equivalent of what Kendall Jenner did in the Pepsi commercial when she handed a police officer at a protest a Pepsi can. Both were pleasant gestures but short on effecting actual change.

The answer to what’s wrong in our country is right in front of these folks’ faces.

Instead of being mad at people like Jones for bringing attention to what happened to him, maybe we ought to look into the reason why, in 2017, a black man is called the N-word at a baseball game.

And people wonder why so many protests have popped up all over the country.

— Evan F. Moore is a syndicated columnist with GateHouse Media. He writes about the intersection of race, violence and culture. His work has been featured in Rolling Stone, Chicago Tribune and Ebony. Follow him on Twitter @evanfmoore.