Goodby Rams--Hello Stadium? : Commentary: When St. Louis buys, Orange County gets bye of a lifetime.

In a breaking news development Wednesday, the Rams announced they would not match San Francisco’s four-year contract offer to free agent safety Marquez Pope.

In a related story, the Rams changed their name to the St. Louis Rams.

A sad day? For those in Los Angeles and Orange County who remember the Rams of Waterfield and Van Brocklin, Gabriel and Bass, Dickerson and Ellard, yes, this one is worth a moment of silence. And for those in Missouri about to discover these Rams--the Rams of Frontiere and Shaw, Gandy and Miller, 23 and 67 since 1989--this is a darker day than any of them can possibly fathom at the moment.

But a surprising day?

Not in the NFL, a staunch institution renowned for its honor and its integrity and its ready-for-the-masthead motto:

“Everyone Has His Price . . . and Ours Is $46 Million.”

Before Wednesday, no team in football history ever turned a 21-3 deficit into a 23-6 triumph. But the Rams just did, and they did it without throwing a single pass or breaking a single tackle. After last month’s resounding vote of the league’s owners against the St. Louis franchise grab, the Rams didn’t panic, as has been their habit at Anaheim Stadium.

John Shaw simply called another huddle, announced a new strategy-- Threaten lawsuit left, grease palms right. On three. Ready, break! --and the greatest football comeback of all time became a foregone conclusion.

Leigh Steinberg, captain of the lost cause known as “Save The Rams,” in an attempt to save face said that the deal was done as early as last summer, and nothing that happened last month in Phoenix was about to stop the Frontiere Van Lines. Those 21 nay votes? Mere nudges in the ribs. Or open hands. At the time, the Rams were offering the league $20 million to move. Sorry, they were told. Not in the best interest of the league.

How about $46 million?

The league said it could get interested in that.

What say the Rams throw in the threat of a $1-billion-plus lawsuit?

The league decided it would be a good time for a recount.

So a second ballot was called in Dallas, and the vote was as rigged as a banana republic election. From 3-21 to 23-6--will you look at all those swing votes. And swing they did, straight for the cash and away from unseemly litigation, a game at which the NFL tends to fail miserably. (See Los Angeles Raiders and Arizona Cardinals.)

Just like that, a 50-year-old Southern California tradition was vaporized, the first major professional sports team in Los Angeles gone, kaput.

And what are we left with?

The Hollypark Raiders?

The Anaheim Bengals?

An Orange County expansion franchise some time around the turn of the century?

As the Rams blow out of town, the Raiders now dig in at Hollywood Park, soon to begin construction on a $200-million gridplex that will make Al Davis richer, the league richer (the league plans to hold Super Bowls on a regular basis at the new facility) and keep the Los Angeles market happy and in pigskin.

That’s the official NFL sanctioned spin, anyway.

From Orange County’s side of the fence, an NFL team playing at Hollywood Park--especially one named the Raiders--might as well be playing in Cedar Rapids. The Raiders are anathema to Anaheim. When they played the Rams last season at Anaheim Stadium, the Raiders brought their fans with them. Soon, Anaheim had to bring out the riot police. Then, when rumors of a Raider rental cropped up--Davis would move his team to Anaheim for two years while construction on his new palace was under way--Anaheim began to wonder aloud if the Bengals were available.

Orange County doesn’t want the Raiders, and it isn’t keen on driving down to San Diego for Charger home games. It wants its own team, something to fill in the time between Mighty Duck games. Steinberg is optimistic about an expansion team “within the next three years.”

That would take us to 1998.

Can Orange County stand three seasons without NFL football?

Well, it just completed five seasons without it. The fumbles, the interceptions, the vaudeville routines on kick coverage--it could take Anaheim three years simply to decompress.

Is no NFL team in your city better than Georgia’s Rams in your city?

Check back with St. Louis some time around 1998.