Football, Sugar Buzz Included

Professional football returned to Orange County Sunday night, assuming you could see it through the dry ice fog, the exploding ground flares, the blinding green lasers, the Harley Davidson exhaust fumes, the torrential shower of free T-shirts and mini-footballs, the WWF and MTV videos, the glitter of the dancing girls’ spangled halter tops, the inside-the-end zone camera crews and the tightly strung webbing of the goalside rebound nets.

If you want to blame Georgia Frontiere, please feel free, because this is her legacy: Anaheim Piranhas arena football--”Football With A Bite,” as you are reminded every 17.65 seconds at the Pond--or, if you want the truth, “Football After A Few Too Many Bites Of Sugar-Frosted Cereal.”

Judging from the first ear-splitting, eye-glazing, synapse-shorting sample, Piranha football is football that never sleeps, never rests, never even pauses to take a deep breath. As a video clip of old Anaheim Stadium villain Steve Young insidiously encourages the fans, “Don’t stop the noise!” And should any pair of heaving lungs fail to heed this advice, Piranha management has ways of making the noise not stop.

“ARE YOU HUNGRY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?” the P.A. carnival barker screams before introducing the red-and-little-else-clad dancing Piranha Girls (“NOW FOR A CLOSE LOOK AT SOME HIGH-PERFORMANCE EQUIPMENT!”) and the severely buffed-with-fake-muscle-padding Piranha Man (“THE PRINCE OF THE PREDATORS, A LEAN, MEAN EATING MACHINE!”) and, eventually, the football players themselves (“THE SOUTHLAND’S ONLY PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL TEAM, AND THEY DON’T PLAY IN L.A.--THEY SWIM IN THE POND!”)

This was after each Piranha Girl was personally escorted onto the arena floor, through clouds of phony fog, on the back of her very own Harley chopper, seated behind her own tattooed driver, to the soothing strains of Motley Crue’s “Girls, Girls, Girls.”

Interesting touch, though not quite original, as Roy Englebrecht, the hyper-frenetic P.T. Barnum who runs this operation, had to concede.

“Borrowed it from Arizona and San Jose,” Englebrecht said, referring to Piranhas’ arenaball brethren, the Rattlers and the Sabercats. “They had those Harleys in San Jose last week [for the Piranhas’ opener]. To see all those Harleys out there, it was amazing. Harleys are hot.

“So we decided to try some Harleys here. We’ll have no buffalo, though.”

Well, no . . . . was anybody requesting them?

“They had a buffalo during the halftime show at San Jose. It [relieved itself] on the field.”

Englebrecht frowned, seeming to disapprove.

The president of the Anaheim Piranhas was armed with a walkie-talkie in one hand, a microcassette recorder in the other. Englebrecht uses the recorder to makes audio notes to himself during a game, as in “A few more decibels and we’ll be at jet-engine level--must work to improve.”

Englebrecht reached for a Piranhas game program. The bottom righthand corner was missing.

“Pro sports’ ONLY program with a bite taken out of it!” Englebrecht proudly exclaimed.

There were also piranha-like bites taken out of Piranha pennants, logos on Piranha T-shirts, even the numbers on the jerseys of Piranha players.

“We are big on bites,” Englebrecht said.

It is halftime and Englebrecht, former director of promotion for the Lakers and the Kings, is liking what he is seeing. The Piranhas are trailing, but “I think the Piranha Girls are great--and I founded the Laker Girls!” Piranha Man is moving well, hitting the hole, running for daylight. He is chiseled and appears to be very angry. He looks like he could kick Wild Wing’s tailfeathers from here to Space Mountain.

“Several Ducks season ticket-holders came up to me and said, ‘We love your mascot, he makes Wild Wing look like . . . “ Englebrecht beamed and rolled his eyes. “We wanted a mascot with an attitude, who looks like a superhero. And look at the fans--they love Piranha Man.”

More beaming.

“I know my mascots,” Englebrecht declared.

The Piranhas are here, Englebrecht said, because the Rams are not. “I was on the Save The Rams committee,” he said, “and then I realized the Rams didn’t want to be saved. I had seen the old L.A. Cobras when they played in the Sports Arena, so I went some investors and said, ‘Let me tell you about this game.’ ”

If the Rams left quietly, the Piranhas have entered the building banging trash can lids together. (One of Piranha Man’s assigned stunts.) They are loud and obnoxious and Englebrecht hopes the eight-, nine- and 10-year-olds of Orange County love it.

“Total entertainment,” Englebrecht called it. “We want to give them the total package.”

By way of footnote, the Piranhas won the game, 50-38.

It was easy to miss.