As with the Cardinals in the A.L., I'm doing this as a story I wrote. However, I may have time to do a timeline of my own with feedback and help putting it together, but I don't know yet. For now, baseball fans, enjoy this.
(*Author’s note – I was torn whether to keep them out west for WW II, or be forced to return East. However, once the decision is made, I think they’d return to California after the war, which is the important part. So, if you think they’d play back East, for instance in St. Louis (Browns) and Kansas City (Braves), then move back afterward, this is still all the same. The Point of Departure - the Ball Estate drags it out longer, leading to interest from other investors - makes it more possible both could stay out West, since one team would have been there for a year.
Part I
If they’d waited, they’d have lost their chance. And, if the Ball estate contacts Rickey earlier, there would have been no chance.
That’s what they say, anyway. Oh, certainly baseball would have come west eventually, but it’s just as likely the PCL would have become a third major league.
As it was, the Ball estate didn’t contact Branch Rickey very fast. If they had in, say, 1934 or 1935, or even 1936, it might have given Donald Barnes enough time to try to build a decent team. Or, enough time till World War Two brought everything to a standstill.
That’s getting ahead of things, though. What matters is that by early 1937, a man named Donald Barnes finally bought the Browns. But, not before investors from other cities had shown interest. The estate only contacted Branch Rickey because they felt an obligation to keep the club in St. Louis, when Los Angeles investors dared to consider buying he club. But, Barnes kept the names of these men. Because, he knew competing with the Cardinals would be very hard. And, because of that, he considered a move more than he might have.
This brings us to the league meeting that was called for very late in 1940. The Browns had been discussing a move, and they wanted to get everything lined up before they made their proposal.
When “Los Angeles” was heard, others hit the roof.
“What’s wrong with Baltimore?” one said. “Or Milwaukee?”
“What do you plan to travel on, Buck Rogers’ spaceship?” another asked.
“Gentlemen, please,” President Harridge said, “let the man have his say.”
The proposal wasn’t that bad, considering how bad the Browns had been. They would buy the rights to the Cubs’ AAA team’s home in Los Angeles, and that team would move to Long Beach and establish a relationship with them; in exchange, the Cubs got the Browns’ old AAA club. They were sure to draw revenue; enough to offset the cost of any indemnity to the PCL. “You have to admit, the gate receipts you get when you come to St. Louis are putrid,” Barnes said, “whereas I’ve lined up investors in Los Angeles who can give us a very nice situation; while I maintain a majority share, of course.”
“I’ll never be able to afford the transportation,” Connie Mack muttered.
“We can get some help there,” Barnes said. He outlined how it would work. “Each of your clubs would play either one 8-game stand or 2 7-game stands out west. We’re willing, if you’ll let us move, to suffer with 4 teams having only 8 games in Los Angeles this year, with the other 3 the next; we would then play 14 games on the road against those four clubs.” Noticing the owners seemingly trying to count on their fingers mentally, he added, “That would give us 68 home games. An alternative is to just have each of you out for one 11-game stand. But, I think this way will work better. I believe we could easily draw one million fans, and possibly two million.”
Jaws dropped. “Two million? What will you play in, the Rose Bowl?” one man shouted.
Barnes agreed that 25,000 a game was a stretch, even with Wrigley Field being expanded from 21,000 to 30,000 next year; something included in the plan as a condition for being allowed to move, as Judge Landis, the Commissioner, had insisted that the Angels accommodate him. “But, let’s say we draw a million; that’s four times what we draw in St. Louis.” He explained how construction would go.
Other owners hemmed and hawed. Clark Griffith brought up the fact that two teams – one in San Francisco – would be easier. They could play all West Coast games at once then, going to L.A. for 5, San Francisco for 6, then L.A. for 6, and San Francisco for 5.
“Okay, Mr. Griffith, and are you willing to move there?” Harridge asked.
“Oh, no Mr. President, I wouldn’t,” he said quickly. It was understandable; he had many friends in Washington. “I was thinking perhaps Mr. Mack’s team, if your other investors would be willing.”
Mack shot him a look that said he thought Griffith was insane, but in keeping with his gentile disposition, he said, “My team will move no sooner than one second after yours does, and likely much later. In fact, the Pihllies would be the best team to relocate.”
The others dithered, not knowing how to phrase this delicately. Mack was so consistently short of cash, it was worried that the large city would never have a competitive team if the Phillies were allowed to move. At least the Phillies could find competent owners at some point, whereas it seemed Mack would never sell.
Instead, Mr. Yawkey suggested the Braves. “Their previous owner ran them down, and while they are respectable now, we continue to be the one team our city is loyal to. The Braves have had little to cheer about. Since their owner used to be with the Sox, I shall discuss the matter with him. However, we would face another problem, gentlemen, and that is that our league cannot have an odd number of teams. Someone would have to move from one league to the other. Mr. Griffith, would that appeal to you?”
Griffith considered the idea. He’d bought into the Senators after the league was formed, and it did make sense that a team along the Eastern seaboard would be the most logical choice. The Red Sox might alienate some with a move, and the Yankees certainly wouldn’t do it.
Still, as Griffith was mulling it over, someone else said, “That would make the American League’s schedule very cumbersome. We would be helping the N.L. too much by giving them four Eastern seaboard teams and then a nice western swing. Meanwhile, we would have Cleveland and three Eastern seaboard teams.”
“I suppose we might be wiling to change leagues,” the Indians’ owner mulled aloud.
“You’re always finishing just behind the Yankees, it’ll be a great chance to come out on top more often,” another encouraged him, feeling it was the best solution.
Yawkey reminded them that he still hadn’t spoken to the Braves’ owner. “Till I do, I don’t think we should mention this to anyone. For now, it’s just a straight vote – should we allow the Browns to move? I want to hear more about this…”
In the end, they voted, reluctantly, to try it. They could always move somewhere better next year, if things didn’t work out.
They worked out, though, and the rest is history. But, getting that second team in San Francisco would require fancy footwork.
Had the decision been put off for a few weeks, till December of 1941, it’s likely none of it would have been done, and the Browns would have had to be taken back to St. Louis for the duration of the war. Indeed, the two almost were as it was. They would have been, were it not for several things: 1. Worries about invasion being gone by late March; 2. The outcry from California fans, who felt like they were now “equal with the East Coast”; The schedule that allowed each team to make only one visit to the west coast; and, 4. Players being willing to ride on munitions trains or even fly spare DC-3’s in some cases.
But, that’s getting a little ahead of ourselves.