So why was I so interested in the
life of a Raiders fan? Well first of all, could there be a more interesting
adventure? Can you imagine being hated and feared by default when you venture
anywhere outside of your own town? Not to mention that Oakland fans are
probably the most loyal in the entire league, if not slightly delusional. Year
after year, fired coach after coach, their belief never waivers. At any rate,
my buddy Sergio (who’s been mentioned a few times in my previous stories) and
his dad are die-hard Raiders fans, and their passion made the idea even more
attractive than it already was. Somewhere in my heart, I love the Raiders and
everything about their culture.
So first I needed the opportunity.
Sergio’s cousin, a Chargers fan, was visiting and they had tickets for the big
Chargers vs. Raiders game. All week we had been hoping for extra tickets to
come, but without any luck. On Saturday night they told me that there was still
a chance and to be on call. That night I had what will henceforth be known as
“The Dream”. Walking through the mall with Sergio, he turned to me and asked
“Hey man, if we get you a ticket, how are you going to get to the stadium?”
“Oh, I’ll just hop on the trolley, it goes right to Qualcomm”, I answered
easily. He then pulled a ticket to the game out of his pocket and handed it to
me. Of course, none of this actually happened.
Slightly disappointed after realizing
that I had not, in fact, been handed a ticket the night before, I resolved to
watch football at my parent’s house on Sunday morning. When I was about a mile
away, I got the call from Sergio. I called my dad and had him take me to the
trolley station. Before I left, I took off the Jerod Mayo jersey I was wearing.
It was time to journey into the abyss.
I’ve heard it said that the
Raiders-Chargers feud is unique from any other rivalry in the NFL. My first
evidence came on the trolley ride to the stadium. Because I take the trolley
everywhere (rain, shine, sleet, or snow) I inevitably end up mingling among the
fans of every team that visits San Diego. However, this was completely
different. Where other fans usually talk playfully (or not so playfully) with
Chargers fans, the theme of the day was silence. It was almost as if the
Chargers fans were too busy thinking about what had happened in their late-late
matchup with Oakland earlier in the season and the Raiders fans, well they just
don’t like Chargers fans. When we arrived at the stadium (2 and ½ hours until
game time), it was the exact opposite. Everywhere I turned, tailgating fans
played either N.W.A., Tupac, or Mariachi music at the fullest capacity of their
speakers. Throughout the parking lot you could hear people letting out long,
guttural chants of “RAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDEEEEEEEEEEERSSSSSS” at any and all
times. I loved it.
After I finally found Sergio (I’m
historically bad at finding friends amongst tailgaters) he handed me a Raiders
shirt, which I donned over my Sunday-usual Patriots Football t-shirt, and it
had officially begun. To the rest of the world, I was just another Raiders fan.
As is obligatory to a tailgate, we played a game of corn hole, one Raiders fan
and one Chargers fan on each team. Sergio paired up with his cousin, while I
was saddled with the already-drunk family friend in a Tomlinson jersey. I
started hot, but the general lack of sobriety by my partner sunk us late in the
game. We later moved on to the Bud Light Fan Experience, where I attempted to
throw a touchdown pass to a leaping blow-up receiver (I messed-up the pre-snap
reads and overthrew him) and we ardently denied Chargers-themed towels from Bud
Light girls. “Do you guys want some beads and towels?” “Uh….NO *pulls on
Raiders shirt to emphasize the logo*”. We took in the Dolphins vs. Bills game
for a little bit; the Chargers needed a Miami loss to remain playoffs-eligible,
before finally heading into the stadium.
The scene inside of the stadium was
as you would expect at any NFL game, with fans excitedly hurrying to their
seats and greeting other fans of the same team. There were a lot more “RAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIDEEEEEEEERRRRSSSSS”
chants, and a few Chargers fans tried to reply with an emphatic “SUCK!”, but
they went largely unanswered. I noticed that Chargers supporters took extra
care not to bump any of the folks in silver and black, despite the walkways
being packed. It was almost as if they expected to be attacked at any second. I
loved it! Passing by a group of Chargers fans talking to a news camera, I leapt
in front of them and shown the emblem on my chest, screaming “DA RAIDUUUUUUHS!”
I just couldn’t help myself. A few minutes later, I let out a long RAIDERS
chant of my own. I had officially turned.
Once we got to our seats, we saw the
ridiculous imbalance of jerseys. There were far more Biletnikoffs, Stablers,
and even Janikowskis than Rivers or Mathews. Whole sections were blacked out
with Raiders jerseys. I did see a guy in a Scifres, which marks the first
punter’s jersey I’ve ever seen. In our particular section, there was about an
equality of both and, you guessed it, the drunkest Raiders fan in the stadium. Before
the game even kicked off he was already screaming “RIVERS IS SHIT!!” and
imploring Sergio and I to join him. We declined. When the Raiders were
introduced and began pouring out of the tunnel, it almost felt as if they were
at home. When the Chargers came out of their tunnel, the boos were clearly
audible. I booed right along with them.
The Chargers scored first, held to a
field goal. After a long drought, the Raiders answered with a touchdown from
zombie Darren McFadden. I high-fived all the other Raiders guys around me and
thought “Wow, we’ve got a chance”. I was trying to figure out why I wasn’t
already a Raiders fan when Matt McGloin threw a deep pass to Marcel Reese, who
had made his way behind San Diego’s defense. Running down the sideline, he
appeared to be home free until he stopped running, lost track of the ball, saw
it at the last second, and was too far behind it to recover. Oh right, that’s
why. An update of the Patriots @ Ravens game came up on the big screen and I silently
celebrated with myself. The Chargers also needed a Ravens loss, so I couldn’t
be seen cheering along with them.
The Chargers drove down the field
(the Chargers fan next to me kept screaming “C’mon P-Riv!” P-Riv? NO) and
finished with a Ryan Mathews touchdown. A Janikowski field goal made it 10-10
at halftime. At halftime I mentioned that we probably wouldn’t get to see Pryor
now that McGloin had managed a touchdown. We really, really, wanted to see
Terelle Pryor play. We had seen our share of momentum swings, with both teams
committing turnovers, highlighted by a Keenan Allen muffed punt and an athletic interception by Eric Weddle. The Raiders had already committed about six or
seven penalties, and would finish the day with a dozen.
The third quarter was completely
dominated by the Chargers, and their fans started to get a little bold. Our
drunk comrade was bombarded with “Are you okay, sir?”s from every Chargers fan
in a four-mile radius after every San Diego score or third-down conversion. We felt
the game slipping away and waited for the sun to slip below the stadium walls,
as it was shining right in our faces. I had expected the Raider Nation to be
loud all day, but they couldn’t sustain the effort because Oakland committed
penalty after penalty after penalty. It was disheartening, to say the least. We
went into the fourth quarter still believing in the face a 10-point deficit.
Eventually, the Raiders had the ball,
down 26-13 after more field goals, and were driving down the field. It was a
long shot, but if they could score quickly there was time for an onside kick and
second touchdown attempt. With a minute left on 4th and 6 with no
timeouts, Matt McGloin withstood a Chargers blitz and threw the ball to Marcel
Reece in the end zone. The ball floated high and sailed right into Reece’s
hands…where it was dropped by the fullback. Dropped.
The Chargers got the ball
back and ran the clock out. The guy at the end of our row, sporting his Rivers
jersey, asked if I was going to be okay. Looking around, I lifted up my shirt
and showed him the Patriots tee I was wearing underneath. We both laughed and
he shook my hand.
Now that the game was over, the
Chargers fans were happy to talk smack about how the Raiders would never be on
their level, etc. The Raiders fans asked how many Super Bowls they had ever
won. I saw a woman in a Richard Seymour jersey simply stand up and put up both
middle fingers, not saying a word. As we left the stadium, passing by drunkards
and more drunkards, I felt genuinely disappointed. The Raider Nation had really
touched my heart that day. Then I checked my phone and saw that my Patriots had
won 41-7 in Baltimore. I smiled.
