Circus Giganticus

Lies, Rumors and Innuendo: The Life and Passion of Al Davis
by MIKE SANFORD

Well, he’s gone. Those of us who bleed silver and black knew this day would come, and to be honest it is kind of a relief. We all knew that he was in bad shape and that the inevitable was close. I make no apologies. I am and always will be an Al Davis fan. He infuriated me countless times and more than once I swore off the Raiders FOREVER. Then I would find myself perusing his draft picks and trying to figure out if this new coach would be the next Gruden, the next Flores or Madden. Like a swallow returning to Capistrano I would find myself parked in front of the couch screaming once more at a stupid off-sides penalty.

I always considered Mr. Davis much the same way I considered Richard Nixon. A brilliant man brought down by his own ego and sense of what was right and wrong. Where these two differ is that Mr. Davis stuck to a code only he could define. Nixon ended up being base. Mr. Davis was as complicated and driven as any person in living memory. (My mind keeps whispering the similarities between Mr. Davis and Steve Jobs. They both knew in their heart what they wanted to do and pursued their dreams with zeal. Both changed the way our culture exists today. But I open myself up to the ire of devotees of both men, so I will shy away from this topic for now.)

The news stories today state that he didn’t want the merger of the AFL and the NFL. I always considered this a touch disingenuous. I believe that he wanted the merger and realized what it would mean down the line. He might have had reservations, but his desire to build a better football product has reaped untold millions, perhaps billions, of dollars for people who today should bow down in gratitude for the environment that he helped create. Football as we know it would not exist without the existence of Al Davis. This is undeniable.

He was never the owner. He was always the Managing General Partner. The NFL and the networks that feed off it never delved too deeply into the rest of the partnership. When I was growing up it was always assumed that the rest of the ownership had dealings with the unions that controlled the docks of Oakland, and I think now that this rumor was probably left alone because it gave the team a certain image of danger. Oakland in the 60’s and 70’s was a workingman’s town. The Raiders were all about the blue-collar. Jim Otto might have been a guy you worked with and a good man to have at your back. They all had large personalities. They were the guys you talked about around the water cooler. If they hadn’t played football they would have been the guy who becomes a legend for standing up to the bosses to get you a fair deal. Instead these guys played football with the intensity (and sometimes the morals) of an alley fight. Mr. Davis loved it. He wanted to be known as the outlaw. The organization he created would do it their own way and everyone else be damned.

Before the move to LA, the Raiders were working-class heroes. The fans were rough but they were a fair representation of the bars and clubs that surrounded the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum. They knew how to tip one back and have a good time, but would usually forego profanity when ladies were present, unless there was a particular bad call by the refs. The move to LA changed that. The fan base acquired a certain thug element that made going to Raiders games a lot less enjoyable. The one game I attended in LA is still one of the scariest experiences of my life. Even when they returned to Oakland the flavor of the live game had changed. I haven’t attended a game in Oakland for over ten years. There is a certain level of angst in the crowd that hampers the joy of live football. Maybe it is that the game is different, or perhaps the time I spent in Oakland in my youth watching games with my dad are rose-colored in my memory. But my children will have no opportunity for any such memories. The thought of taking my sons to the Coliseum fills me with dread. I don’t mind the pot in the parking lot or the constant hollering of the scalpers. I don’t like the undercurrent of violence and profanity that is the norm. But I digress.

Mr. Davis helped create the behemoth that is the NFL. His legacy will always be presented with an asterisk. He played by his own rules. He sued too many people. Mr. Davis micro managed his team and his coaches. He benched players and hurt his team over real or imaginary slights. He was as well versed in football as anyone could be. He was a genius. He had feet of clay. He was a visionary who would cut off his nose to spite his face. He was never boring and neither was his team, even when they were losing.

You really were a one-of-a-kind the likes of which we will never see again, to our detriment. Now who will keep the league on its toes? G’bye Al. I, for one, will miss you.

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