Al Spelled Backward Is Still L.A.

Don’t do it, Al Davis. Don’t go. You will regret it--maybe not now, but soon and for the rest of your life.

Don’t be tempted by visions of full houses. Don’t be swayed by misty water-color memories of the way Oakland was.

Those days are gone for good, Al, old pal. They’ve got 49er fever up there now. You don’t want to walk in their shadows, pick up their scraps. Stay put and the Raiders will be the team, from San Luis Obispo to San Juan Capistrano. Don’t say hasta la vista , baby. We’ll get that new stadium built. We’ll fill it. Stick around.

It isn’t an easy call, we know.

Asking yourself where the Raiders would rather be, in Los Angeles or in Oakland, is like asking where you would rather go to a singles bar, Sodom or Gomorrah.

The disadvantages of L.A. seem obvious:

1. No stadium. 2. No sellouts. 3. No Monday nights. 4. Too many fans dying hard with a vengeance. 5. Without the Raiders, street gangs would have to wear San Diego Charger stuff.

But the disadvantages of Oakland are more obvious:

1. It’s Oakland. 2 through 5. It’s Oakland.

You could move back there and leave L.A. with one fewer NFL team than Jacksonville bleeping Fla., or you could stay down here and live happily ever after.

The truth is also obvious:

Oakland loves the Raiders. Los Angeles only likes them.

A decision is imminent that will affect football here for the next millennium. If Davis loads the wagons at midnight and leaves us here in the garden of good and evil, he could kill or delay our new arena, our Super Bowl bids, our shot at a second NFL team and our chances of ever running into Mike Ditka.

The NFL is on the case. Should L.A. be left teamless, we will probably get somebody else’s franchise, pronto, and by that I mean 1996. Wouldn’t shock me a bit to see the Rose Bowl enter the picture as landlord, but don’t rule out that Coliseum just yet. And don’t worry about Hollywood Park; an expansion club will be playing near Century Boulevard by the turn of the century.

Still, there have been so many questions and answers to consider. Such as:

Q. If the Raiders move to Oakland, wouldn’t they own the town?

A. Yes, but is Oakland a town you want to own?

Q. Isn’t the rest of the Bay Area committed to the 49ers?

A. Yes. Nobody loves a Raider out there by the bridges of Marin County.

Q. Won’t loyal Ram fans adopt the Raiders now?

A. Yes. Both of them.

Q. Isn’t Davis excited about the Hollywood Park stadium?

A. Not if he has to share it with the Los Angeles Browns.

Q. Why does Al like Oakland?

A. Because he thinks Oakland’s fans are worth an extra touchdown a game.

Q. Why did Al leave Oakland?

A. Because back then, the Raiders didn’t need an extra touchdown a game.

Al Davis hates to wait. He can’t think about Hollywood Park being host to Super Bowl XXXV. He’s too busy thinking about the Raiders being in Super Bowl XXX.

Maybe he worries that the Raiders cannot achieve greater greatness without more crowd help. Maybe he worries that Hollywood Park will suffer delays, leaving him stuck at the Coliseum into the second term of the Dole Administration. Maybe Al Davis worries about growing old, even though he could own the Raiders 23 more years and still not be as old as Gene Autry.

Or maybe he misses Oakland. Maybe to him it’s Graceland.

But it isn’t, Al. It’s ghost land.

Don’t go back, looking for the past. Stay in L.A., baby. This could be the middle of a beautiful friendship.