THE RAIDERS: BACK TO OAKLAND : Leaving Town With an Empty Feeling

From now on, any L.A. Coliseum games played by the Raiders belong on “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

The inside of the stadium is going to be as empty as the inside of a football. Tickets will be scalped for 50 cents. The Lakers will out-draw the Raiders. The Lazers will out-draw the Raiders. Attendance won’t just be announced, it will be identified by name. “The Raiders would like to thank our fans for coming today--both of them.”

The place will look like one of those New England college gymnasiums quarantined by an outbreak of measles. Some referee will penalize the Raider crowd five yards for not making enough noise. John Elway will be able to whisper his audibles. Each cheerleader will pick out one fan, and personally do a cheer: “Gimme an R--come on, mister, gimme an R!”

Until 1992, when Football’s Fabulous Males officially move back to Oakland, they are going to be persona non grata in greater metropolitan Los Angeles. The exit ramps at Exposition and Martin Luther King on Sunday morning will be lonelier than a country two-lane blacktop. Those parking-lot people who have gouged you for years will pay you to park there now.

There won’t be enough fans in the stands to work up a decent wave, which might be the best aftermath of all of the Raiders’ leaving. Marc Wilson can come back now--there’ll be nobody left to say boo. If crowd noise affects momentum, the Raiders had better pipe some canned noise through the loudspeakers, the way pro wrestling does on television.

I can picture it now--15,000 people at the Raiders’ 1990 home opener. Five thousand are fans of the visiting team. Five thousand come carrying bedsheets bearing stupid slogans that begin with the letters NBC, so they can be seen on TV. Four thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine have nothing better to do. And then there’s that one guy with his “John 3:16” sign, who ought to go to church on Sunday and leave us alone.

Lines at restrooms will be shorter than the lines outside the Hard Rock Cafe. Steve Beuerlein will interrupt a huddle to shout at some fan to turn down his radio. NBC, concerned about appearances, will place cardboard cutouts of fans throughout the Coliseum. Coaches in the press box will discard their walkie-talkies and just yell down to Art Shell.

“Yo, Art! Art! Cornerback’s too deep! Corner’s too deep!”

It’ll be quieter than a public library. No, quieter than a Seattle Mariner game. Construction workers could erect luxury boxes during a Raider game now, not disturbing anybody. They ought to install parking spaces with private speaker boxes, like a drive-in movie. Just drive right up to the sideline and watch the game.

When fans yell, “Down in front!” it’ll be at a player. No nets will be necessary behind the goal posts. The security force will be reduced to four rent-a-cops and that guy who got slapped by Zsa Zsa Gabor. Postgame garbage detail will take about six minutes. How long does it take to pick up 18 empty cups and two Twinkie wrappers?

Or, maybe we’re wrong. Maybe we’ve got this thing backward. Maybe Raider telephones are ringing off the hook today with requests for season tickets. “Good morning! Thank you for calling the Los Ang . . . uh, the Raiders! All circuits are presently busy, so please hold. Your call will be answered in whatever order Mr. Davis receives it.”

Season tickets, get ‘em while they’re cold. You say you live in the San Fernando Valley and you don’t care to make the 22-hour drive to Anaheim on California’s fun, fun, fun freeways? Then come on down to the Coliseum, America’s ghost park. One hundred thousand seats, no waiting. Bring the kids. Bring the neighbors’ kids. Drag every kid out of every mall in the whole Valley.

Sorry, every Ram home game is going to be sold out until the year 2001, but the Raiders? Hey, Good Seats R Us. It’s our September Going-out-of-Business Sale! If you need a place to meet, go see Al! If you want a better seat, go see Al!

Raider fans understood some of the risks of not buying tickets last season. They chose not to buy out the stadium, except for a Bronco game and maybe one other. They decided that if Al Davis was going, he was going no matter what they did. They decided it was up to the politicians and stadium big shots to save the franchise, not up to them.

Well, I don’t know. Maybe sellout crowds, week after week, would have swayed Al. He’s big on loyalty, remember. He’s sorrier than anybody that the Raiders weren’t one of the powers of the NFL these last four seasons, but then again, they didn’t exactly go down the tubes, the way the Dallas Cowboys did.

When St. Louis lost the NFL Cardinals, there was an argument over who or what was responsible. The owner was upset that the team wasn’t selling tickets to enough fans. The fans were upset that the owner expected them to buy tickets to an inferior product. The fans considered it emotional blackmail--Give us your money or else. Give us something to watch, the fans said, and we’ll watch it.

Southern California’s fans didn’t chase away the Raiders, but they didn’t exactly fall to their knees and beg them not to go. Well, it’s Northern California’s worry now. Be seeing some of you at the Coliseum next season. Don’t bother wearing black.