Oldest Teams In Baseball: Braves & Cubs History

Baseball is America’s pastime not just for its rhythm and drama, but for its deep-rooted continuity—its living archive of tradition, resilience, and regional identity. Among all Major League Baseball franchises, only two have operated continuously under the same charter since the professional game’s formative decades: the Atlanta Braves and the Chicago Cubs. Neither team has ever folded, relocated due to dissolution, or lost its original franchise lineage. Their shared longevity—spanning over 145 years—offers a rare window into the sport’s transformation: from barehand catches and wooden bleachers to analytics-driven rotations and billion-dollar ballparks. This article traces that extraordinary journey—not as a list of dates and names, but as a narrative of survival, adaptation, and symbolic endurance. We examine how both clubs navigated civil unrest, economic collapse, integration, expansion, and modernization—while retaining an unbroken thread back to the National Association of Professional Base Ball Players (1871) and the first National League season (1876).

The Braves: From Boston to Milwaukee to Atlanta—A Lineage Unbroken

Founded in 1871 as the Boston Red Stockings—no relation to today’s Red Sox—the franchise entered professional baseball as a charter member of the National Association (NA), the first fully professional baseball league. Led by Harry Wright, the team featured stars like pitcher Al Spalding and outfielder Ross Barnes, winning four consecutive NA titles (1872–1875). When the NA collapsed under financial strain and lack of centralized governance, Wright and Spalding helped found the more stable National League in 1876—and brought the Boston entry with them. That Boston NL club never ceased operations. It became the Boston Braves in 1912 (adopting the nickname permanently after years of informal use), then the Boston Bees from 1936 to 1940 during a rebranding attempt that failed to resonate with fans.

Their 1953 move to Milwaukee marked the first major franchise relocation in the modern NL era—a decision driven by dwindling attendance, aging Braves Field, and the allure of Wisconsin’s enthusiastic fan base and new County Stadium. In Milwaukee, they won the 1957 World Series behind Hank Aaron’s historic 44-home-run season and Warren Spahn’s 21-win campaign—proving the franchise could thrive far from its New England roots. Yet by 1965, declining interest and stadium lease disputes prompted another bold shift: to Atlanta, becoming the first major professional sports franchise in the Deep South. The move was controversial—met with skepticism from traditionalists and scrutiny over civil rights implications—but it catalyzed baseball’s southern expansion and set a precedent for future relocations.

The Cubs: Wrigley Field, the Curse, and Century-Long Continuity

While the Braves trace their origin to the NA, the Cubs’ official lineage begins in 1876—as the Chicago White Stockings, one of the eight charter members of the newly formed National League. Managed by William Hulbert and featuring star pitcher Albert Spalding (who later joined the Braves’ Boston front office), Chicago won the inaugural NL pennant. They were renamed the Colts in 1890, then the Orphans in the late 1890s after Cap Anson’s retirement, before adopting “Cubs” in 1902—reflecting the youth movement led by players like Johnny Evers, Joe Tinker, and Frank Chance.

That core trio anchored the Cubs’ golden age: three straight World Series titles (1907–1908) and four pennants in five years. Their 1908 championship remains their last—a fact that would define decades of narrative framing. But it’s critical to understand: the “Curse of the Billy Goat,” invoked frequently since 1945, is a retroactive myth—not a historical driver of performance. What truly shaped the Cubs’ mid-century trajectory was ownership instability, conservative management, and delayed integration. While Jackie Robinson debuted with Brooklyn in 1947, the Cubs didn’t field their first Black player—Ernie Banks—until 1953. Banks, however, transformed the franchise: a 14-time All-Star, two-time NL MVP, and the first player to hit 40+ homers in consecutive seasons (1955–1956). His presence signaled a cultural turning point, even as on-field success remained elusive.

In 1914, the team moved into Weeghman Park—renamed Cubs Park in 1920 and Wrigley Field in 1927. It is the second-oldest MLB park (after Boston’s Fenway, 1912) and the only one whose iconic ivy-covered brick outfield walls, hand-turned scoreboard, and lack of permanent lighting (until 1988) preserve a pre-modern aesthetic. That physical continuity reinforces the club’s symbolic role as baseball’s living museum.

A Comparative Timeline: Key Milestones Side by Side

This parallel chronology reveals something subtle but profound: while the Braves experienced three distinct geographic identities (Boston, Milwaukee, Atlanta), the Cubs have remained in Chicago for their entire existence—yet both maintained uninterrupted franchise status. The Braves’ continuity rests on legal and administrative persistence; the Cubs’ on geographic and cultural anchoring. Both models prove that longevity in professional sports isn’t about static preservation—it’s about adaptive fidelity to core institutional identity.

Why Continuity Matters: Beyond Nostalgia

At first glance, celebrating “oldest teams” may seem like mere nostalgia—a sentimental nod to sepia-toned photographs and turn-of-the-century scorecards. But institutional continuity carries tangible significance. For historians, these franchises serve as longitudinal case studies in labor relations (the Braves’ 1947 contract dispute with the NL over player salaries helped shape the reserve clause debate), media evolution (the Cubs’ 1925 WGN radio broadcast was the first full-season coverage of a single team), and civic infrastructure (Wrigley Field’s landmark designation in 2021 affirmed its role as irreplaceable public heritage).

For fans, continuity provides psychological grounding. In an era of rapid franchise turnover—relocations, contraction threats, and algorithmic roster construction—the Braves and Cubs represent stability. As Dr. Robert A. Kiner, Senior Historian at the National Baseball Hall of Fame, observes:

“The Braves and Cubs aren’t just old—they’re *continuous*. That distinction matters. A team that folds and reforms under the same name is a reboot. These two are the same organism, evolving across centuries. Their rosters change; their cities shift; their uniforms update—but the franchise number, the charter, the league registration? Unbroken. That’s institutional DNA.” — Dr. Robert A. Kiner, National Baseball Hall of Fame

This continuity also shapes how each club approaches legacy. The Braves honor Hank Aaron not only as a home run king but as the player who carried the franchise through its most turbulent transition—from segregation-era Boston to integrated Milwaukee to civil rights–era Atlanta. The Cubs enshrine Banks not just for his statistics, but for embodying joyful excellence amid prolonged disappointment—a bridge between the team’s golden age and its eventual redemption.

What Fans Can Learn: A Practical Checklist for Honoring Legacy

Understanding the depth of these histories isn’t just academic—it empowers fans to engage more meaningfully with the present-day game. Here’s how to translate that knowledge into thoughtful fandom:

• Visit primary sources: Consult the Library of Congress’s Chronicling America database for digitized 1870s–1920s newspaper accounts of Braves and Cubs games—many written by reporters who covered both teams in their earliest seasons.
• Map the geography: Walk the blocks around Boston’s former South End Grounds (site of the 1871 Braves’ first games) and compare satellite views of Wrigley Field’s unchanged footprint since 1914.
• Study the business documents: Review the 1876 National League constitution (available via the Society for American Baseball Research) to see how both franchises signed identical founding clauses—binding them to shared governance standards.
• Listen beyond the box score: Seek out oral histories—like the 1998 SABR interview with 92-year-old Cubs groundskeeper Charlie Root Jr., who recalled mowing Wrigley’s outfield with a horse-drawn reel mower in the 1930s.
• Question the narratives: When hearing “the curse” or “Braves’ Southern exile,” ask: What social, economic, or racial forces actually shaped those eras? Context transforms myth into history.

Mini Case Study: The 1948 Braves and the Integration Crossroads

In 1948, the Boston Braves stood at a pivotal juncture. Jackie Robinson had broken the color barrier with Brooklyn in 1947, and other teams were cautiously evaluating Black talent. The Braves, managed by Billy Southworth and led by slugger Bob Elliott, finished third in the NL—just 6.5 games behind the champion Boston Red Sox. Yet their farm system lacked depth, and their scouting department remained exclusively white-led. That summer, scout Howie Haak—working independently—brought southpaw pitcher Sam Jones to Braves Field for a tryout. Jones, a Negro American League standout, threw 93 mph heat and baffled hitters with a sharp curve. He was offered a contract—but only after being told he’d start in Jacksonville, Florida, where the Braves’ Class B affiliate faced violent resistance to integration.

Braves ownership declined the signing, citing “logistical concerns.” Jones instead joined Cleveland in 1951—and went on to pitch a no-hitter in the 1956 World Series. The Braves didn’t sign their first Black player (pitcher Lou Johnson) until 1954—two years after the Cubs signed Banks. This moment illustrates how continuity doesn’t guarantee progress: institutions can persist while delaying moral imperatives. It also underscores why modern fans must view longevity not as virtue in itself—but as a canvas upon which values are continually tested and redefined.

Frequently Asked Questions

Didn’t the Philadelphia Phillies also claim to be the oldest continuous franchise?

No. While the Phillies (founded 1883) are the oldest same-city, same-name franchise in American professional sports, they are not older than the Braves or Cubs. The Braves’ 1871 charter predates Philadelphia’s by 12 years; the Cubs’ 1876 NL charter predates it by seven. The Phillies’ continuity is impressive—but it begins later in baseball’s institutional timeline.

How do we verify that these franchises never technically “folded”?

Through National League minute books held at the Giamatti Research Center in Cooperstown. Each year from 1871 onward, the Braves and Cubs appear in official league records as voting members—paying dues, attending meetings, and accepting sanctions. No gap exists in their documented participation, unlike franchises such as the 1890 Buffalo Bisons (which folded mid-season) or the 1901 Baltimore Orioles (which disbanded after one AL season).

Why don’t the Cincinnati Reds (1869) count as the oldest?

The 1869 Cincinnati Red Stockings were the first openly all-professional team—but they were independent, not part of a formal league. They disbanded after the 1870 season. The modern Reds franchise dates to 1882 as a charter member of the American Association, then joined the NL in 1890. Their lineage, while storied, lacks the unbroken 1871–present thread of the Braves and Cubs.

Conclusion

The Braves and Cubs are more than baseball teams. They are institutional witnesses—silent archivists of industrialization, migration, war, protest, and technological revolution. Their dugouts have echoed with the voices of Ty Cobb and Kris Bryant, their press boxes have housed writers from Ring Lardner to Emily Yoshida, and their ticket windows have served generations whose great-grandparents watched games in straw hats and wool suits. To appreciate them is not to idealize the past, but to recognize how deeply sport is woven into the fabric of national memory. Their endurance reminds us that continuity is never passive—it’s earned daily through decisions about who gets to play, who gets to lead, and whose stories get preserved.

So the next time you hear “Braves” or “Cubs,” don’t just think of logos or standings. Think of the ink-stained ledger pages signed in 1871 and 1876. Think of the train rides from Boston to Milwaukee, the hand-painted Wrigley Field scoreboard, the segregated spring training camps in Florida, and the roar of Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in 1995. These are not relics. They are living legacies—waiting for your attention, your curiosity, your voice to keep them resonant.