BEYOND REACH : Davis, Master of All He Surveys, Left Helpless by Recent Deaths

Don’t get Al Davis wrong; he wants to win, baby, as much as ever. And the Raiders really do need to win now, after three consecutive forlorn seasons.

But at the moment, Davis has other concerns, life-and-death concerns, and the man whose entire life has been predicated on controlling his environment is having a difficult time coping with the recent deaths of so many people close to him.

If you ask Davis how he’s doing these days, he’s likely to say not so good. Sure, the Raiders look like a football team in need of help, but turning around a football team is something Davis believes he always can do.

“The football I’ll get straight,” he said. “My biggest thing right now is this death business. I’ve always been able to control the elements of my life, dominate my environment without hurting others. But this death business . . . That’s the thing I can’t control and it bothers me.”

Davis’ high school teammate, Don McMahon, died two years ago while pitching batting practice at Dodger Stadium. His high school coach, Al Badain, died recently and Davis flew a red-eye back to Miami to deliver the eulogy.

Ed Stanczyk, his athletic director in college at Adelphi, died, as did Don Clark, the former USC coach who hired Davis in the late 1950s and gave him his start in big-time football.

In June, Davis mourned the death of former Raider John Matuszak, who overdosed on prescription pain-killer. And two weeks ago, Raider safety Stacey Toran--who was found to have a massive amount of alcohol in his blood--drove his car to a tragic death.

“When my players and friends start dying, I can’t win that battle,” Davis said. “The team? We’ll get this thing straight. When someone’s sick, I can go to a hospital and actually help the thing and eventually win. But this death, I can’t beat it. I can’t win. It makes you callous. You almost begin to accept death a little bit, but you don’t want to do that.”

Davis, 60, looks as weary as his words sound. He is serving on two of the National Football League’s committees, one searching for a new commissioner and the other assisting in the formation of a new international league.

The Raiders seem to be on the move again, either to Sacramento or Oakland. Already one lawsuit has been filed against him and another is likely to follow. The team has playoff aspirations, but only because it is playing in the weakest division in the National Football League, the AFC West.

Asked if he has enough time to deal with everything he needs to do to get the Raiders back on top, Davis said firmly, “No, but I’ll do it.”

Nobody knows better than Davis that, come the second week in September, life and death, stadiums and committees don’t mean a thing if the Raiders can’t play. Just win, baby.

“In this culture, nothing can take the place of winning,” he said. “You have to win, just win.”

Of course, the Raiders haven’t been doing much of that lately. Since the end of the 1986 season, they have a 12-23 record. They haven’t had a winning season since 1985. Attendance has fallen off.

Few positions are set. Marcus Allen is holding out and Bo Jackson will be in a baseball uniform until the first weekend of October, meaning another bad season is not an unreasonable expectation.

But Davis insists that pulling the team back up shouldn’t be any different than it was after a couple of lean years in the ‘70s.

“In 1978 and 1979 (both 9-7, non-playoff seasons) we were down and everyone said, ‘That’s it,’ ” Davis said. “And we started 1980 by losing to the (San Francisco) 49ers, 33-14. But we won the Super Bowl. In 1981 we slipped to 7-9 and everyone said, ‘That’s it, here’s the decline.’ Then we had four great years (43-14).”

As veteran tight end Todd Christensen said this week: “Yes, something has to happen positively or we’ll see an apocalypse of sorts.”

Win or lose, however, the Raiders probably will have a new home in the next year or so.

As the offers roll in, Davis is saying nothing, not about moving, anyway. The primary suitors are Sacramento and Oakland, the patient jilted lover waiting to be taken back.

Sacramento, which has plenty of money and space to construct a new stadium, initially offered a reported $35 million package. Oakland supposedly has offered $32 million, which has some city officials outraged. The Oakland school system is in deep financial trouble.

Irwindale, which has already paid Davis $10 million, appears out of the running. Indications are that if the Raiders move north, Irwindale will slap Davis with another lawsuit.

Adding to the intrigue, Sacramento last week increased its offer to a reported $50 million.

Wherever the Raiders wind up, Davis, Christensen and anyone else can trace the team’s football decline to one afternoon, even one play, in a game against the Philadelphia Eagles at the Coliseum in 1986.

The Raiders, who went into the game 8-4, apparently were headed toward the end zone for a winning score in overtime and a playoff berth. Business as usual. Commitment to excellence. Just win, baby.

Instead, Marcus Allen fumbled, the Eagles returned the ball deep into Raider territory and won the game in overtime. The next week, the Raiders lost in Seattle, 37-0, and proceeded to lose the next two games for an 8-8 record. They didn’t make the playoffs.

“Certainly you can trace it to that,” Christensen said.

Said Davis, recalling the moment: “We blew it. It started then. That was it.”

That might have been the start of the decline, but the Raiders have made some unsound decisions since, and Davis has to shoulder some of the responsibility.

The 1985 and 1986 drafts were almost complete washouts. The top three draft choices from 1985 have been waived or traded. The top pick from 1986 was waived and the second pick never played a down.

Last year, with receivers James Lofton and Mervyn Fernandez and newly drafted Tim Brown already on the roster, Davis traded this year’s No. 1 pick to the Bears for Willie Gault, who contributed a career-low 16 catches.

But for the first time in several years, the Raiders finally have a relatively young, healthy, physically capable quarterback in former Washington Redskin Jay Schroeder. He was so intent on being ready for this season, he spent four hours a day during a long stretch of the off-season in skull sessions with second-year Coach Mike Shanahan, studying the play book.

But in the exhibition opener, Schroeder threw two interceptions, completed only four of 12 passes and was booed lustily. He was so upset with himself that he walked up to Shanahan during the game and said: “I’m sorry. I put in all that work in the off-season and it looked like it wasn’t worth anything.”

It’s difficult to tell where Shanahan stands, or even how long. There’s no particular public discord between him and Davis. But if the Raiders don’t look a lot better by midseason, there aren’t many who expect Shanahan to stay.

Part of the Raiders’ decline may even be a result of Davis’ own success at picking up other teams’ rebels and rejects and turning them into stars in the 1970s.

Christensen said: “In the ‘70s and early ‘80s, Al’s ability to get a person a little off-center and deal with him was unique. . . . Other teams began doing the same thing that only Al was doing at one time.”

No matter what, the Raiders are behind and everybody here knows it, especially Davis.

“I’ll get this thing straight and we’ll be all right,” he said.