Al Davis Plays Shell Game--Raiders Win

Advancing to a place they used to know--the NFL playoffs--the Los Angeles Raiders exhale deeply today, their faith reaffirmed in their artistry.

Up until 1985, it was an unconventional turn of events if the Raiders didn’t advance to the playoffs. The only question was how far in the playoffs they would advance.

It was like the old days in Texas when all the big shooters drove Cadillacs. If a man said he bought a new car, you never asked him what kind.

All you asked was, “What color?”

But when the Raiders fell out of rhythm and began to miss tournaments, the confidence of their curator, Al Davis, was shaken visibly.

Coming to feel the problem may have been the fault of his coach at the time, Tom Flores, Al encouraged Tom’s retirement.

Any time an owner is undecided whether the coach or the owner is at fault, the coach usually gains the nod.

So now Al sits down and asks himself what ails the Raiders. Was his science dated? Was a young coach, with fresh concepts, the answer?

This is how Davis comes to hire Mike Shanahan, offensive specialist for Denver, a modern, fast-moving team. Whatever questions Davis asked during the interview, Shanahan supplied the right answers.

What he failed to supply were the right answers on the field, almost leading to Raider ruination. The team was losing. Attendance was falling. And, worst of all, the Raiders had become the object of ridicule.

That meant bon voyage for Mr. Shanahan and, desperate for a fast replacement, Davis hands the ball to his old blocking lineman, Art Shell.

Shell never had served as a head coach. In the NFL, no black man ever had. What appealed to Davis most about Shell was that Art was around when the Raiders used to win, and maybe he remembered how they did it.

It was that easy. In his first full season on the job, he takes the Raiders to the playoffs, making a hero of Art, a genius of Al and engendering new hope for those who follow the Raiders.

Little things sometimes decide big issues. At the start of training camp, for instance, the Raiders faced the dilemma of playing at quarterback Jay Schroeder or Steve Beuerlein, holdovers from the previous season.

Beuerlein simplified the decision. He didn’t show up, contending that the Raiders were offering him less money than one of his station should be paid.

Schroeder goes to work and, at the last audit, he starts 14 games this season and wins 10.

What would have happened if Beuerlein entered the argument isn’t known. But, failing to appear at camp, he created convenience for Shell, not to mention Schroeder, and the Raiders have cashed a winning ticket here.

It is none too soon, considering the club sold but 22,700 season seats this year, well below the figures of rivals in their division.

Short of season sales, the Raiders have been made to depend on weekly sales, explaining the relatively moderate crowds this year for a team winning 10 games.

Interjecting this tawdry commercial note, let us pursue the matter further. If the economy continues to falter, teams next year depending upon weekly sales will be hurt the most.

Longtime season-ticket buyers, such as those at Denver, Seattle and San Francisco, aren’t likely to give up their locations. They will tough it out.

But the Raiders and their 22,700? The club must boost its season following next year or it will suffer as it has this year.

Mind you, the Raiders on Sunday were shooting for a playoff spot. They were playing Cincinnati, an exciting opponent. They drew only 54,000.

But money is one thing and performance another. The Raiders aren’t getting rich, but offer thanks, at least, they no longer are getting ridiculed.