A Match Made in, uh, Heaven

Damn, man, if you people want the Raiders back that badly, you can have ‘em.

I hate to see you Oakland folks cry and moan and whine this way. It’s like being at the World Series again.

OK, OK, I know, I’m sorry, I should get down in a three-point stance and kiss Al Davis’ black slacks and beg him to stay in L.A.

It’s not that I mean to run the Raiders out of town, although Lord knows it would be the first good run the Raiders have made in weeks.

It’s just that Oakland and the Raiders seem to, well, deserve one another.

Interpret that any way you like.

As you know, Oakland, like Sacramento, is taking up a collection for the homeless. Davis is taking bids of up to $50 million, and is rumored to be joining Pete Rose next week on the home-shopping network.

Oh, and we mustn’t forget Irwindale, where the construction crew’s motto remains: “If you build it, he will come.”

Sacramento is willing to shell out 50 mil, although every taxpayer naturally expects to be awarded a one-50,000,000th share of the team. Oakland is only offering a little more than $30 million, most of which will be assessed from Jose Canseco’s courtroom fees.

However, at least the Oakland folks finally got to put their mouths where their money is.

Saturday night, the Oakies hollered their fool football heads off for the Raiders, who at their home away from home rewarded their faithful with an unusually close defeat. You name a Coliseum, and the Raiders can lose there. Next year, maybe Rome.

Anyhow, it was the Oakland fans’ first good look at the Raiders, and afterward, amazingly, they still want them!

They also nearly broke their arms, patting themselves on the back. They crowed about how they were “real” football fans, and how they sold out the stadium, and how they stayed until the last play, and how much noise they made.

One TV guy raved about how Oakland had easily the loudest crowd of any National Football League city. Yeah, right, bud. And Lawrence Welk’s band can drown out The Who.

Oakland’s media also had a field day quoting the Raiders about how wonderful Oakland’s fans were. Yeah, you bet. When reporters came into the locker room asking questions like, “What did you think of the fans?” the Raider players should have answered, “What fans? We didn’t hear any fans.” Uh huh. Sure thing.

I must admit, though, some of the Raiders did go on a bit.

“I hope somebody in Los Angeles was taking notes tonight,” Greg Townsend told the Oakland Tribune.

Now, as it happens, I was taking notes. In fact, I even took some of the Oakland Tribune’s notes.

Like the one about the Raiders playing before “50,642 screaming, yelling, bellowing banshees.”

I can’t speak for Townsend and Jay Schroeder and Willie Gault and the rest of those guys, but if I had to play before 50,000 screaming, yelling, bellowing banshees, I think I’d prefer Sacramento.

After all, the only bellowing banshees you find in Sacramento work in the Capitol building.

Townsend went on to say: “The fans at the L.A. Coliseum couldn’t hold a candle to the Oakland fans.”

(Yeah, but they’d like to.)

Furthermore, Townsend said: “We need our fans to take lessons from these fans and the fans in Denver and Seattle--real fans, instead of people coming out to show off what they’re wearing.”

(We resemble that remark.)

“They might as well have been on the sideline with us,” Townsend said.

(Might as well. They couldn’t play any worse.)

Oh, you bad, bad, Southern California football fans. The nerve of you, not buying 90,000 tickets every Sunday to see a team that hasn’t had a winning record since 1985.

Tim Brown, that ageless veteran of nine NFL starts, commented Saturday: “The L.A. crowd comes to be entertained. The Oakland fans entertain themselves.”

(Hey, for seven years now, they’ve had to.)

“This place reminds me of coming out of the tunnel at Notre Dame, with everybody yelling and screaming and throwing things,” Brown said.

(Imagine, us so-called L.A. football fans, going to games and not throwing things.)

Otis Wilson, who has been with the Raider organization for more days than we can remember--118, I believe--said he liked Oakland a whole lot.

“I’m not used to people booing me like they have in L.A.,” Wilson said. “I’m not used to people leaving in the third quarter.”

(Don’t worry, Otis, my man. You’ll get the hang of it.)

Should the Raiders move here for the 1990s? How about for the rest of 1989? How about if we help them pack, maybe make a few sandwiches so they won’t get hungry on the trip?

Steve Beuerlein, quarterback and clear thinker, seemed to have a down-to-earth attitude for somebody born in Hollywood.

“I’m an L.A. boy, so I’d like to see us stay put,” Beuerlein said. “Then again . . . “

Uh oh.

” . . . it’s good to feel loved for a change. The people here are with you all the way, win or lose. If we had to move somewhere, it would be tough to beat this. If you gotta move somewhere, move somewhere you’re loved.”

I’m pretty sure that was a Stephen Stills song.

Most realistic attitude of the night belonged to Howie Long, who actually played football in Oakland when Oakland played football.

“I go where the boss says,” Long said. “Boss says go, I go.”

Yeah, but wowie, Howie, what about these 50,000 screaming, yelling, yellow banshees, or whatever they were?

“Hey, I played in front of 1,500 people at Villanova and thought that was a big crowd,” Long said. “I think restaurants are crowded. I get excited when I see 10 people.”

(Stick around the L.A. Coliseum this season. You might.)

Best reaction of the night--best reaction of any night, usually--went to Todd Christensen, NFL Hall of Fame tight end and talker.

“I had an emotional . . . “ Christensen said, proceeding to use a word I am unable to use. “What I mean to say,” Todd said (thanks, Todd), “is that I was pretty much aroused and emotionally titillated.”

Boy, if just being in Oakland can have that kind of effect on a person, maybe we all ought to move here.

* RAIDER SHAKEUP?: Several of the team’s big names might be benched or cut. Mark Heisler’s story, Page 6.