DEFLATED : Houston Gets Team, so What’s Next for L.A.? And Does Anyone Care?

Peter O’Malley looked out the window of his ninth-floor downtown office Wednesday toward a grassy patch of Chavez Ravine.

A splendid view. A sickening view.

“I was about to say it’s clear out, but maybe it’s a little bit murky,” he said, laughing.

The real story of why Los Angeles lost its third professional football team in five years Wednesday is not found in Houston, which threw us through the ropes, or Atlanta, where owners kicked us in the ribs.

The real story is found in that view.

Where our new stadium should have been sitting. Where our new team should be playing.

Chavez Ravine, next to Dodger Stadium, is where football would have returned to Los Angeles long before Houston even lost its first team, but for a shortsighted mayor and the mild-mannered leader who would not fight him.

“Today, we would be about to be playing football in Los Angeles in a new, extraordinary, finest-ever football stadium,” O’Malley said. “It’s sad.”

A beloved site. A trustworthy owner. Public funds only for access roads.

At the very least, sad.

The real story of why Los Angeles lost a bid for an expansion team is the old story of how, no matter how many thousands of citizens pledge allegiance to sports, they are never a match for the personal agendas of those few who control politics.

The real story reads something like this:

In August 1995, O’Malley agreed to build a facility and operate an expansion team at the request of Mayor Richard Riordan.

Three weeks later, the NFL was so excited by the proposal that league officials were saying a team could be in place by 1998.

But after a year had passed, after O’Malley had spent more than $1 million in research while lining up potential partners and neighborhood allies, Riordan pulled the dreams out from under him.

Riordan, looking for friends of the Coliseum to help him build the Staples Center, insisted that the Dodger owner stop working on football and support the politically correct Coliseum.

What Riordan didn’t know--and should have known if he were in tune with community leaders--was that he was also removing O’Malley’s last remaining reason for owning the Dodgers.

That’s right, the Dodgers.

Less than four months after announcing he was backing out of football, O’Malley announced he was selling his baseball team.

On Wednesday, O’Malley confirmed it was no coincidence.

“Football would have been a perfect fit for our baseball team,” O’Malley said. “It would have been a way for me to diversify into an industry that was profitable, to cover the losses of a baseball team that was not profitable.”

Today, not only have we lost football to Houston, we have lost the Dodgers to Fox, and Richard Riordan has acquired another chunk of legacy.

The story ended a couple of months ago, four years after it began, when NFL expansion boss Jerry Richardson paid a visit to O’Malley for some last-minute advice about the league’s choices.

The man who has contributed more to Los Angeles sports than anyone gave an interesting answer.

Along the lines of, pick Houston.

“I told Jerry, in my view, the enthusiasm here was not getting higher, it was diminishing,” O’Malley said. “I said, ‘Jerry, if it doesn’t fit, don’t try to make it.’ ”

Richardson left town shaking his head and subsequently disappeared from all remaining pro-Los Angeles expansion talk.

Los Angeles disappeared soon thereafter.

I phoned the mayor Wednesday. I reached an aide. I explained that I needed her boss to talk about his refusal to allow O’Malley to bring the NFL to Chavez Ravine.

“Chavez Ravine?” the aide said. “What’s that?”

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A millionaire sports baron who sometimes behaves with the delight of a kid sticking baseball cards in his spokes, O’Malley still has the little pink slip.

You know, the one telling him that Riordan had phoned with what would eventually be his invitation to join the NFL party.

The date was Aug. 22, 1995.

The time was 3:25 p.m.

“I was really excited, the city would have benefited from football, I would have brought in partners, we were getting along with the neighborhood, it would have all worked,” O’Malley said.

Riordan, who aides said would not give an interview regarding his dealings with O’Malley, was doing the last smart thing he would do in pursuit of the NFL.

The league loved O’Malley. It loved Chavez Ravine. Both were popular and credible. The town seemed to embrace the idea that O’Malley could do it with scant taxpayer help.

This newspaper’s story on Sept. 9, 1995, read, “A proposal endorsed by O’Malley received rave reviews during a meeting this week by owners on the NFL Stadium Committee, who believe that a team could be playing in an O’Malley-built facility by 1998.”

O’Malley and Bob Graziano essentially turned the Dodgers over to Fred Claire, and spent the next months studying and surveying and working mostly on football.

Because Cleveland and Houston still had teams at the time, Los Angeles was far ahead in a one-town race.

Then Riordan stuck out his foot.

Why? He needed support of other Coliseum-friendly politicians to help get the Staples Center built.

Why did O’Malley go along with the request, which came in the form of a letter of Coliseum support that he was supposed to sign?

This is something some local business leaders wonder even today.

Why didn’t O’Malley angrily expose Riordan’s letter for the partisanship that it represented? Why didn’t he tell the mayor that this town was big enough for a Staples Center, and a football stadium at Chavez Ravine?

“You can’t fight City Hall,” O’Malley said Wednesday.

But why didn’t he realize that Dodger Stadium was City Hall, and that he was far more popular among voters than Richard Riordan would ever be?

“I’m telling you, you can’t do it,” O’Malley said. “You go against them, then try to go to them seeking votes on variances and things like that as you try to build your stadium. They could hold you up forever.

“If their heart was in the Coliseum, there’s no way even Superman could try another site and be successful.”

So O’Malley gave it up, the NFL, the Dodgers, all of it.

And for what?

So one of the Coliseum’s backers, Ed Roski, could show up on decision day Tuesday and unconscionably campaign against Southern California by campaigning against Michael Ovitz and Hollywood Park.

“Based on what I know about the enthusiasm in Houston, compared to not much enthusiasm here, the [NFL] made the right decision,” O’Malley said.

Based on the boorish behavior of everybody but the relentless Ovitz, who actually might make a good NFL owner one day, it was the right decision indeed.

Besides, think of the problems if O’Malley had been allowed to continue his efforts and been awarded the team.

Poor Mayor Riordan. He would be invited to the first game at Chavez Ravine, and somebody in his office would have to dig up a map.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.