"The little league that could..."

[TC Dale]

Please allow me to take you back. To a time when baseball was the national pastime, when folks sit by their radios and listened to their favorite players making another pitch or stroke of the bat into the hearts of their fans and into legend.


What if the baseball had not had the color line? If anyone that wished, and all that wanted to play the grand game of baseball could? What would have happened and what new legends would sit among the old in Cooperstown?


In this version of history, folks did have that chance. The color of your skin meant nothing as long as you could play the game of baseball. It took 20 small northern Indiana communities to show the world that baseball was at its purest and best when all had the chance to walk that road to glory.


Please understand, this backstory will be long. The background is something that is needed to see what it took for the little Wabash River Valley League to take on baseball to the creation of the AllAmerican League.


I know that this won't be the grandeur of GForce's stories, or Tiger Fan's eloquent speech, but something maybe a little of all that. I know I am missing others that have made me enjoy the game of OOTP a little more, like Professor's look at history and baseball..

I digress. Look for more here asap, as I open the book on "The Little League That Could."

Comments are welcome...and needed.

[TC Dale]

Wabash River Valley League



The league was spread over nine separate Northern Indiana counties, all with a history of supportive fans, with a down home flavor of the national pastime. Even with the history of basketball fanatics known world wide, the league continued to prosper and grow.

The county seats in all nine northern Indiana counties decided to make a change in the late 30’s, and take the league’s assets and some of the name players with them.


After receiving the league’s ultimatum, the smaller towns and cities decided to do something about it. Instead of folding their tents, they decided to reform the league and continue on.

After much discussion over the winter months, the league re-emerged with all new look, and in some cases, new teams. Each team has a natural rivalry with their county neighbor, and the division they are in.

The league continued with their own draft and each team was assigned a team name, along with any usage agreements for high school or college fields, or in some cases, teams making their own fields in a county farmer’s back 40 acres.

When the Indiana snow finally made its slow exit, the teams held a news conference to announce the new League.

After a few seasons, the league matured and the towns prospered. The war started and the towns had a few tough years. Those that could not serve, and could not find work, flocked to the WRVL to play baseball.

In fact, vehicles came from all over the Midwest. The talent level had lessened a wee bit due to the war effort, but the Wabash River Valley was going strong.

Just before the fifties, the teams had not changed much . The teams never had a need for talent, as the players locally and from across the Midwest continued to flock to the WRVL for seasoning and the chance to play against the very best in baseball.

Their loose affiliation with the majors, and their level of play has grown to rival the International League and the Pacific Coast League in the AAA level. In fact, the league’s champion was invited to the World Series of Minor League baseball from 1941-1948.

Besides being an independent league for the last few years, the league has been a hotbed of talent and superior play. Most of the players drafted off of the team’s payroll have been starters on the AL and the NL rosters, and up until recently was a feeder system to MLB.


In fact, so much success has been made of the smaller towns and burghs of hosting a team, other would be owners have ventured to the little railroad town of Bennetts Switch, visiting the league headquarters to see what has made the WRVL so popular.

After many meetings and visits from wealthy and not so wealthy owners from all over the United States to their league games, rumors flew hot and heavy but the owners and fans in the WRVL did not hear much else about the curious visitors.


What could they want? And why were they so interested in baseball Indiana style? More to come.....

[TC Dale]

Starting in December 1951, the league owners and players are sent a letter announcing the start of the new national baseball league, based on the hometown atmosphere, the Midwestern work ethic, and the high level of talent being produced in the Corn Belt, and the success of the WRVL.

During a whistle stop train schedule along the towns on the famed Wabash Cannonball, the Commish released the news, that the All-American League, would have the WRVL as their AAA franchises and feeder system for the new league. Any player on the WRVL rosters could and would be available for the AAL starting after the end of the WRVL 1952 season.

Jaws dropped in sports departments in every major and regional newspaper in the country. Some of the east and west coast newspapers had not heard of the “little league that could” and this upstart league could not be successful, could it? How could anyone from what was perceived as a small midwestern league be able to supply a whole new league of players to the level of major league baseball?

Crowds cheered and the folks were ecstatic that their “little league” was on the cusp of greatness. It spread the news faster than the train could carry the news westward along the Wabash Railroad Line. Hundreds and sometimes thousands gathered at the small towns and county seats to announce the pairing of the WRVL and the new All-American League.

The American and National League owners were now up in arms. Their supply of top rated talent was now denied them, and the commissioner of Major League Baseball called an emergency meeting. It was decided that if the All-American League would take their major influx of talent, then they would take appropriate action. Lawyers for Baseball circled the railroad town of Bennetts Switch, coming by train, horse, car, and foot to the headquarters of the venerable league.

The WRVL headquarters were nestled in the small town just east of it’s train station, housed next to the little general store. The barristers made their ultimatum publicly in front of the league’s offices. “Either refrain from joining All-American League or face a cease and desist order from Baseball,” said famous lawyer Clarence Darrow. “ Baseball is confident that this upstart rogue league will be crushed as the evil entity that it is.”

Speaking to a crowd of hundreds outside the town’s general store, he continued. “The WRVL will continue to be a valued member of Baseball and any defection would be looked as a gross injustice of the contract the Wabash River Valley has with Baseball.” Darrow raised his hands and spread his hands in a wide sweeping motion that seemed to envelop the crowd.

“This will be the pinnacle of my barrister career. The Scopes trial will pale in comparison to what I will accomplish for game of Baseball to show the All-American League and the WRVL if they continue on this misinformed plan of action! We will fight it to the last penny!”

Darrow slammed his hand into the podium and strutted away. The newshounds made their way to the teletype offices hastily set up for them to file their story. In the crowd that milled about was Erle Stanley Gardner, well known for his lawyer novels. He scribbled a few notes during the Darrow interview, doffed his hat to the people around him and melted back into the periphery of the milling crowds.

The next day, Mr. Gardner held a conference with the members of the WRVL and the All-American League in tow. “ While I am sure my esteemed colleague Mr. Darrow believes that Baseball has an ironclad contract with Wabash River Valley, I am going to prove that they do not. While I have been writing for the last 40 years, I believe by coming out of retirement, I can prove that the WRVL and AAL are free and clear to create a new national baseball organization.”

The bulbs popped and the flashes erupted all over the small-enclosed area that was the Bennetts Switch Post Office porch. “Mr. Gardner? What are your plans for this upcoming lawsuit? Will this show up in one of your books?” Laughter erupted among the reporters.

Eyes twinkling, Gardner replied. ”I can guarantee that if I win this case, this indeed will be in one of my books!” He doffed his hat and smiled. “ If you will excuse me gentlemen, My Court of Last Resort has work to do…”

[GForce22]

Good to see you doing something like this, TC!

GH

[Tiger Fan]

Great start. Can't wait for more.

[TC Dale]

Thanks guys. It will be interesting to see how it evolves. Has been a long road to get here. Of course I don't need to tell you guys that.

[jjd]

Nice start TC.

I'll read this with interest.

[TC Dale]

Over the next few weeks, the rumors flew about the upcoming case of Wabash River Valley League vs. Major League Baseball. Darrow brought his usual calm demeanor to the publicity, and belittling his older opponent. “As much as I relish matching wits with the great Erle Gardner, his skills as a lawyer are not a match to my illustrious career. I hope that Mr. Gardner will see the error of his ways and drop this frivolous campaign soon!”


Behind the scenes in New York, things were not so calm for Baseball. After looking through the archives, nothing could be found that even looked like a writ of contract.

Clarence Darrow rubbed his forehead and said, “Gentlemen, if you do not have anything to prove that the WRVL had a contract with Baseball, you are not going to win this suit. I see contracts for the International League, and the Pacific Coast League, but nothing for the American Association, or the WRVL.”


He dropped the papers, and scowled at the owners around the walnut table. “ Without a contract, we are going to lose this case.”

The day of the trial arrived. The reporters and sightseers came to Indianapolis to watch the trial of the century, jockeying for the available seats.

It had been ballyhooed as David vs. Goliath, Big Business vs. the Little Guy, and the Old Country Lawyer vs. the Modern Attorney. It has the trappings of the trial of the century. Banks of phones and telegraphs have been set up in the halls surrounding the courtroom, to make it easier for the media to post their stories.

Newspapers, radio stations, and some regional and national television networks had converged on the Circle City to cover this trial.

At the end of the first week, Clarence Darrow and his group had long faces but rose to the occasion each time when asked for an interview. Each day Mr. Darrow would play to the cameras about the “rightness” of Baseball and their position. Questions were asked and answered in the byplay between the attorney and the media.

Erle Stanley Gardner would watch the spectacle of the prosecuting attorney and his brigade, then shake his head, and lowering his head as he doffed his signature hat, slid to the darkened back corridors with reporters rushing to ask questions.

Finally on the third day, the press finally caught up to Gardner. “Gentlemen, I appreciate your interest in this case, but I do not try my case in public. If you wish to know my opinion, ask the bailiff for a seat tomorrow. It will prove to be …enlightening.” He smiled as he put his hat on and buttoned his coat making his way out of the courthouse.

[DreamTeams]

This is a fun read. Keep it up.

[TC Dale]

I will thanks. Real life got in the way few days, so I had to delay it...but I should be posting more really soon.

[GForce22]

Keep it up, TC. Nice tale you have going.

GH

[TC Dale]

The media bellowed the comments all over their front pages, bumping the politicos and the war protestors to page two and beyond. Speculation rose high about the case and Baseball’s lack of clear evidence.

At each turn in the courtroom drama, Gardner rebutted Darrow’s contention that there was an unwritten contract with the WRVL with irrefutable facts, one of them being the famous OF Freddie Artz who after playing 6 years and leading all categories in the WRVL , went on to become a superstar in the AL.


Asked if he had a contract with Baseball while he played with the Barber Mill team, Artz replied. “ The only contract I had was to play baseball for Barber Mill and with Mr. Smith.”

“Who was Mr. Smith?” he was asked. The lawyers for the prosecution were looking at their notes wondering whom this new name meant. Was it possible that this was the missing link that Baseball needed?

He paused a moment, then barked out a reply. “ Well, see, if I kept the ball field mowed and free of trash, I could earn my room and board at Mr. Smith’s farm outside of Barber Mill…” The crowd erupted in a cacophony of laughter and guffaws, and the Judge had to pound the gavel for order in the court for over 10 minutes.


Darrow lowered his head and knew the worst had come. He was being made a fool of in front of all his contemporaries and colleagues, and by a man 30 years his senior.


He asked for a recess and spoke to the owners of Baseball.


“ If you do not settle this today, right now, you will lose and lose badly. I have never seen such overwhelming odds in all my life. If you do not settle, the WRVL and the All-American League will have a field day and your money to fund their league.”

He shut his briefcase, and fell silent. The owners started arguing amongst themselves and Clarence sat down, steepling his fingers, watching his employers argue their position. After the owners finally wore down, they slowly veered their eyes to the respected attorney.

“Now that you are finished, would you like my recommendation?” The owners looked across the table at each other and then at Darrow. They slowly nodded, resigned to the fact.

"I recommend we settle out of court. If you do not, baseball and ALL organized sports will be at financial peril." He held the owners in his penetrating gaze, then continued.

"This case will set a precedent that will remove the onus of all minor leagues from being beholden to the Baseball. Gentlemen, I do not relish losing, but if we continue down this dark path, we all are going to suffer an ignominious defeat.”

Standing, he puts on his overcoat and hat, and walked to the door. “Good day Gentlemen. I will see you tomorrow. I will let you know what the WRVL and All-American League’s terms are in the morning.”

[TC Dale]

Erle Stanley Gardner and the WRVL and the All-American League were meeting at the Athletic Club in downtown Indianapolis, in a side office off of the main hall, when Darrow barged into the room.

“Good evening gentlemen. I am here to ask what will it take for the WRVL and AAL to settle this case?” He scanned the owners, then looked at Gardner.

“As much as I would enjoy leaving your carcass out to dry in public, Erle, I think it would be in my client’s best interest to settle this case.” Looking around the room he pulls an overstuffed chair to the negotiation table. “Shall we work this out?”


No one moved, and it seemed that no one even breathed for a moment. The air became heavy and people sucked it in hungrily.



Gardner rose slowly, looking at each owner in turn and then to the commish. “ I can say Mr. Darrow, that when myself and the Court of Last Resort took this case, we intended to see it to its completion. I respect your position for your clients, but I can say that it will be a cold day in hell before we settle. Please give my best to your family, and I will see you in the morning. Good evening, Clarence.”

Turning back to his clients, Gardner waited as Darrow preened, setting his clothes just so, and while standing, doffed his hat to the folks surrounding the cherry wood conference table. “ My thoughts exactly, Mr. Gardner. Have a wonderful evening. Gentlemen?” He slowly spun on his heel and left the way he came in.


The famed author turned lawyer slowly smiled and spoke. “Sirs…. I do believe we are going to win this battle. Darrow has underestimated your willingness to take the final base, and we will be the winner.” He smiled wanly. “ I just wish I was younger, so I could easily enjoy it. Now, are we in agreement that…”

[TC Dale]

The next morning Judge rapped his gavel and called the trial to order.

“Mr. Darrow, I presume you have final statements on behalf on the prosecution?” Clarence smiled and slid from behind the oak table. “Yes, Your Honor, I do. With your permission?”

The judge nodded, and he continued. “ Your Honor, baseball is a time honored tradition. Our national identity is interwoven into its very fabric. Many sports have tried to assume the mantle of THE national pastime, but baseball holds this crown in her capable hands.”

He slowly walked to the jury box, his hands now animated with a baseball and glove. “With this projectile, folks attempt to recreate the magic of the unhittable pitch, the uncatchable hit down the left field line, the graceful and poetic double play, shortstop to second to first. Can anyone not say they remember the names Mac Neil to Reichel to Lipp?”


He slammed the ball into the glove. “ Those names and so many before them in the annuals of history show that Baseball has its roots deep in the American psyche.” He placed the tattered worn glove down gingerly, and picked up the wooden bat, placing it on his shoulder.

Picking up the ball again, he narrowed his eyes, and said, “ Many men have crossed our paths in athletic fields over the years as giants among us. Who can forget the Baltimore Bullet, the Sandman of South Philly, and the irrepressible Charley Caswell? The list goes on and on. "

He took a batting stance in the middle of the courtroom, mimicking a batter at the plate." Ladies and gentlemen… if I could hit this little white ball with this bat 3 times out of 10 I would be considered a legend among men. As it is I can hardly hold both at the same time.”


He feigned dropping the ball and placed the ball and glove on the table before him among the laughter and tittering of the crowd.

Raising his hand for silence he continued.

“ Baseball as you see it today needs no introduction. The stories and figures are legendary, as are the teams that populate the American and National Leagues. In response, my valued opponent is saying that anyone has the right to rend asunder our national pastime. I say no!”

“History commands that we preserve what is sacrosanct and holy. Keep Baseball, the beloved sport as we know it today. Do not allow these ruffians and malcontents to ruin what we as a nation hold dear. Find for Baseball and history. It is your patriotic duty to keep Baseball as you see it, pristine and holy.”

He slowly sat down and the whole right side of the courtroom housing the pro Baseball throng, let loose a cheer that seemed to ring from the rafters. Judge hammered the gavel for attention and silence, and nodded to the defense.

“Mr. Gardner? I do believe it is your turn, sir.” The dark robed magistrate looked to the old lawyer.

“ Why thank you Judge. I appreciate it.”


Be looking for more very soon.

[TC Dale]

Taking an object from his pocket, Erle looks toward the jury as he places an old muddy, worn-out threadbare ball at the banister before them. “ My esteemed colleague has spoken of history and how Baseball fits into the very fabric of our society.”

“ Many people would argue that Baseball got where it has today by ignoring the real history of this wonderful game, and not the one that Mr. Darrow would have you believe.” Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he continued.

“ Does anyone remember how Baseball refused all but the white skinned man to play their national pastime? What would No-Thumb Jones have pitched if he had been allowed to play the white man’s game? And how many homers would have Big Tree Falling stroked out of every major league park if he had been able to play like he did in the Wabash River Valley League?”

He put his hands on the rail separating him from the jurors. “The WRVL took all comers. NO one was refused on account of race, color, creed, or political affiliation.”

He timidly removed a ball from his outside coat pocket and turned it for the jury to look at. “ See this old worthless ball? Worn out, why even the threads don’t seem to keep the cow skin on. Why is this ball so important? …Let me tell you why.”

Moving to the other side of the courtroom he stopped and faced the audience. “Most of you here know of the legend of the Treaty Triple, I assume.”

Folks leaned forward on their seats as they leaned on every word. Here was the answer to the infamous legend. “ Most know of the days before we had lighted stadiums in our parks.”

“ Legend has it that Big Tree had come up with the bases loaded and one out, the 1944 title on the line. Treaty was playing Peru for the title that year, and the Miami county seat team was a real all-star lineup. Each starting player on the Peru nine went on to long careers with Baseball.”

Heads nodded and whispers slithered out. “ Well the rocket armed second baseman named Warren “Stick” Peters, remember him? Remember how he lost the ball in the darkening skies…the moon rising over the Indiana cornfields? He was just up from the Oklahoma Athletics down in Seminole.” Heads nodded and voices rose slightly again.

Silencing the crowd with an upraised hand, Gardner smiled and continued. “ Remember how he came off the bench to take over for his ailing teammate, and how heartbroken he was over losing the ball in the darkness, and the title to Treaty that year? That boy packed his bags and went home torn up over the legendary missing ball. No one knew where or how that ball disappeared that day. You ask, how do I know how what happened? This old worn out ball is the one from that fateful game. It too has a story to tell..”

Jurors and spectators alike leaned in as Gardner continued. “ On one side of the ball you can see some writing, and the other has two lines and a name. One of those names you can barely read, the other is a plain as day. The language might be hard to read, but I can translate…” He spoke as he strode to the seated area of the jury.


“Tres played hard, Tres plays good. Tres surely come back. Signed, Big Tree.” A gasp sucked all the oxygen in the room and even Darrow looked shell-shocked.

The country lawyer continued. “Well, you might ask, what does Tres mean? And why is it so important to this trial?” Heads nodded all over the courtroom. Reporters were scribbling, trying to keep up with the oratory.

“ You see, the name on that ball was from the legendary Miami Indian, Big Tree Falling. His Miami tribe was moved in the late 40’s and 50’s to Oklahoma. After his tribe left the Indiana area, he decided to make his way from Indiana after the season that year in 1944 and looked up the Seminole Rocket.”

“ He found Warren working at the Athletics field over the winter months, playing winter ball in the dusty fields that surrounded Seminole. He didn’t say much to him when he met him. He just gave him that old ball and gripped his shoulder, tears in his eyes, and shook Peters’ hand. He smiled that face-splitting smile of his, and wandered back to his old Chevy flatbed truck and made his way back to his family’s home on the reservation.”


Gardner took out a white handkerchief and gingerly put the ball back inside, closing the ball up. “ The other name on that ball is Warren Peters. You see, Big Tree wasn’t much on names, and Tresclub is the name he gave Warren during his rookie season. If you look closely,”

Erle opened the handkerchief up and showed it to the jury. “ You can see the inscription he left with his signature."

[TC Dale]

All the chairs now in the courtroom squeaked their distress over shifting weight. Not a person seemed to want to breathe, much less speak.

Looking directly at the jury he said,“ Thanks. See you in Treaty. Signed , Tres.” If a man would come all that way to give a man a missing baseball, that legends say disappeared oh so long ago…how can Baseball say that their history is the only history that matters?”

“Is it possible that Big Tree knew something that Baseball didn’t? What if Warren had quit after Major League Baseball had given up on him that last day of spring training with the San Diego Padres?”

Gardner’s volume increased. “Would we have seen his 5 for 5 performance against the Swayzee squad, where he hit for the cycle and then stroked the game winning double over the outstretched hand of Skeeter Barnes, scoring his oldest son, Doug from first? Would we have seen his record setting 500TH Home Run, running the bases watching his son, waiting at home plate to welcome him on his last day playing for Treaty, the same team he lost that heartbreaker to so long ago? No, I daresay time and baseball’s history would have given us a different Warren Peters.”

“Whose history do you wish to believe? The league that allowed only certain people to play baseball, or Wabash River Valley’s? White, Brown, Black, Red, Yellow, they all came and were welcomed to the “little league that could” here in the Indiana heartland.”



“My opponent says that their vision of baseball is the one who should be believed. I say that for every Charley Caswell, there is a Warren Peters and a Big Tree Falling. I believe that history will find us lacking if you do not find the Wabash River Valley League innocent of all conspiracies they are accused of. I am not asking you to find Baseball guilty of complicity, only the crime of a racist group of greedy owners that should have allowed any and all who wanted to play this great game. If Baseball was the true American sport, then why couldn’t everyone play Baseball’s Game?”


“ Find the owners of the WRVL and All-American League innocent and let the true legends live on… in our hearts and our souls. Let not the memories of Big Tree Falling and others like him fade from our consciousness. Let the game of baseball, OUR baseball, continue to weave it’s magic like always, the way it was MEANT to be played. By everyone.”


Erle hobbled to the table and set down hard, gasping for air. The silence was overpowering as he laid his hands on the table and his eyes were tear-rimmed. “ I guess that seals it.” He whispered to himself. “The old country lawyer just didn’t have it today…”

The crowd sat hushed for a moment, then people started yelling and whooping and crying all at the same time. Chairs careened into each other, canes rattled to the floor, and feet stomping increased the noise to a deafening level. The people of the jury were wiping their eyes, and the Judge himself was mopping a tear or two with his robe sleeve.


Finally, the Judge gaveled the courtroom to silence, nodded to the bailiff and the bailiff showed the jurors to their room for the debating of the sentence. Clarence Darrow and Erle Stanley Gardner stood as the Judge gaveled the court to attention.

“We will be adjourned until 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. If the jury comes back with a verdict before that, you will be notified and I expect you here within the half hour of your notifications, is that clear?” Both attorneys nodded and the judge retired to his chambers.



The courtroom emptied quickly as the reporters filed their reports on the trial. Every teletype and phone was full, and Darrow sighed as he made his way towards the outside entrance. Looking at the various baseball owners that followed him, he spoke.“ Well, sirs, it looks like we have our work cut out for us. I recommend we brace ourselves for a long night.” The owners muttered to themselves but followed him out into the sunshine. After some pleasantries, the prosecutor and his employers split and went their own way.


Back in the courtroom, Mr. Gardner mopped his forehead, and inhaled deeply.“ Don’t know if this will help, Mr. Peters, but here is your ball back. I hope I didn’t injure it in any way.” The bearded gentleman accepted the ball, his eyes twinkled, and replied. “ No, I believe you did just fine Mr. Gardner. Just fine. I know Big Tree would be proud.” Erle Stanley Gardner smiled at that, and continued. “Let’s just hope that they think so too, Warren. I hope so, too…”

[TC Dale]

The jury was absent about 3 hours before they came back with a verdict. The Judge returned to the courtroom, and nodded to the bailiff. “ Do you have a verdict?”

The jury foreman looked nervously to both prosecution and defendant’s table. “ Y-Y-Yes sir, we have a verdict.” The Judge nodded and took the verdict and read it silently then handed it back to the foreman. “Please read the verdict, Mr. Foreman.”


The gentleman cleared his throat and replied. “We, the jury, find the defendants, The Wabash Valley River League and All-American League NOT guilty of all charges brought against them by Baseball. And that’s the truth, so help me God.”


If it was possible the noise was louder than before. People slapping each other on the back, the whistling and yelling of the spectators, and the noise seemed to roll inside from the throngs that circled the State Courthouse, waiting on the verdict!

One sturdy citizen leaned out the window and bellowed,
“Baseball lost! We won! The WRVL lives on!”

And with that Erle Gardner smiled and shook the hands of all the people around him. Pressing through the crowd, Clarence Darrow shook Gardner’s hand in defeat as the flashes went off for what seemed minutes.

Leaning in, Darrow smiled and said, “ If I had to lose to anyone, I guess I would rather lose to Perry Mason. I didn’t think I could beat the legend.” Gardner laughed and slapped Clarence on the back.

Years later, Erle Stanley Gardner wrote the story of the Treaty Legend Trial as it became to be known. In fact, it was the last story Gardner wrote in his long illustrious career. In this one, Perry Mason won as well. Who says fiction is stranger than the truth?

What was the title of that last Perry Mason novel, you ask?





It was: The Case of the Seminole Switch




Everyone knew what the story was about. That is why it became a NY Times #1 Bestseller the following fall and was until his death in 1970.



------------------------


The WRVL continued to prosper and the fledgling league became the alternative to what the AL and NL were offering.

Even after the stunning loss, the powers that be in Baseball were slow to adopt the come-one, come-all attitude that the new league had to offer.


Many prospective owners came to Bennetts Switch to bid on the process of being a charter member of the All American League.

Teams sprouted up all over the nation, and folks that wanted some good old-fashioned baseball with a hometown flavor.

Plus the opportunity to see the new Ambassador of All-American League, Warren Peters, made famous by the Treaty Triple Legend Trial revealed that day in a sweltering August heat of Indianapolis courtroom didn't hurt any.



Coming soon, the teams of the All-American League.



Thanks for staying with me on the backstory. It meant a lot. And thanks to Warren "Tresclub" Peters for allowing me to use his likeness and his baseball history in the tale.

At the age of 42, he played his last game with a local semipro team, playing in the outfield with his son Doug. To quote Mr. Peters..." It was the crowning moment in my baseball career."


Warren, this story and league is my tribute to your career, and the inspiration you gave me while we traded emails back and forth. Thanks for sharing a part of your life with us.


We are better off for it.

[TC Dale]

Here is Warren making contact in high school......

[IMG]http://community.webshots.com/photo/...37957837YmYzrN[/IMG]

[TC Dale]

AAL Teams Named

So it comes to this: Twenty teams that comprise the All-American League.

Since the AAL formed, they set about to try and get into the cities of where the major league teams were, but in a suburb or a town close to that city. Some MLB cities, in response, refused the All America League anyplace close to their franchises.

St. Louis was adamant that no team be placed in their backyard, that the team was finally moved to Muscatine (IA). Some cities were chosen because of their proximity to the larger cities, but some like Muscatine made their offers lucrative by the area they were located.

In the city of Chicago, there were some stiff resistance to the league, but finally Oak Park in the central park of the Windy City, and Skokie to the south, finally were chosen. Brooklyn was one of the first cities offered a franchise since the Dodgers had abandoned them earlier.


Also in the state of Ohio, Cleveland and Cincinnati were able to push the AAL out to Canton and Dayton, respectively. Two of the larger cities in California, Los Angeles and San Francisco, always ready for more share of the entertainment value, allowed Hollywood and Alameda to get a franchise. Hollywood in fact, left minor league status to become an AAL team.

In Missouri, Kansas City lost its chance to snare another team, when too late it allowed a suburb to submit a application and the team was awarded to Jefferson City, the capital of Missouri. In the same vein, strong local ownership in the NFL’s Packers, allowed the Green Bay applicants their NL team.

Other areas have sparse representation and will be closely followed. Teams like Newark (DE) and Laurel (MA), are a unsteady choice, as both Baltimore and Washington were very protective of their area, costing Elliot City and Virginia City their chance of a AAL team.

Seaford will be watched most intently, as they are close to the largest market in the All American League, and got their franchise when other boroughs closer to Yankee Stadium and the Yankees lost out when NYY claimed imminent domain over those bidders.

In Los Angeles, both the Dodgers and the Angels refused suburbs of LA to be considered. In the end, Riverside got the nod for the west coast members along with Alameda. The discussion of lawsuits was hot and heavy in the state of Pennsylvania, where finally Erie and Reading got their franchises, not without a last minute reprieve from the Governor.


Starting with the National League:


Alameda
Hollywood
Dayton
Erie
Green Bay
Muscatine
Reading
Waco
Skokie
Brooklyn


Starting with the American League:

Seaford
Duluth
Riverside
Lansing
Oak Park
Canton
Newark
Whitman
Jefferson City
Laurel


More coming soon.

[Tresclub]

Dale, I am honored that you would want to do something like this. To say I am speechless is putting it mildly. What a great story you have put together, and I am looking forward to having my own autographed copy of your book.

Thank You Very Much!!!