There's Your Karma, Ripe As Peaches

Hey Al, Is Keyshawn Next?

After the Raiders signed safety Gibril Wilson a few weeks ago, I had a glimmer of hope that this off-season just might go well. This was a fantastic FA get. Sure, we massively overpaid (7 years, $39M) but it's reasonable to believe that Wilson - one of the most consistent safeties in the league - will turn out to be worth the cash. At least, he will be until he realizes he plays in the Bay and completely flakes out a la Charles Woodson.

But then we signed DT Tommy Kelly for an insane $50M dollars and then Kwame Brown - a middling OL that didn't start a game last season - for $16M over three years. And now, Al Davis has emerged from his oxygen chamber to cock things up yet again.

I'm sure most of you saw the news last week that the Raiders signed malcontent Javon Walker and his irreparably shredded knees. Even in Walker's diminished condition, I'll take him because we have a wide receiving corps that consists of Ronald Curry, To Be Determined and To Be Determined. In a situation like this, it's hard to be picky.

But in his infinite wisdom, Al Davis has somehow found a way to make this the worst move of all time. Instead of paying beaten up, broken down, waiting on a new hip Javon Walker what he's worth, the Crypt Keeper is giving him $55M for 6 years. My first reaction was, "Well, I'm sure it's totally backloaded, so no big deal." And while that is somewhat true, Walker still gets $16M in guaranteed money and $27M for the first three years. Hell, if he gets cut this season, he still gets $11M and if he's cut in 2 seasons, he's got $16M! 

What's next, Al? Gonna pull Keyshawn Johnson out the ESPN-abyss with a guaranteed 1-year, $25M deal? I assure you that he's a lot more functional right now than Walker, he of the 28 catches, 287 yards (200 of which came in the first 2 games), 0 touchdowns and 8 games in 2007. Former Pro Bowl, 1000 yard receiver or not, this is pure madness. The only thing I can see explaining this mentally defective contract is if the price of bribing formerly capable players to waste their careers on our shores has ballooned to an additional 85% of market value.

Speaking of ballooned, there are rumors that Stay-Puft, also known as Jamarcus Russell, is currently weighing in around 300 pounds. Now, if that's true, what does it matter who we sign when we've got a heifer for a quarterback that might be tempted to eat the damn ball?!

2 thumbs down! 

The Raiders Are Kings of the World!

I kid, of course. But allow me to congratulate Coach Lane Kiffin and the Oakland Raiders on ending the 17-game losing streak of pure AFC West shame and, barring a freakish miracle, nailing the 3rd and final win of the 2008 NFL season. That's a 50% improvement on Art Shell's gross incompetence, so huzzah to the boys.

I'll be honest, I actually thought we'd pull down 4 wins this season. Crazy but true. After a summer listening to Kiffin's stuttered song and dance about innovative methods and youthful vision, I had about a half inch of hope going into the season. That grew to a whole inch after a near miss in Denver and two straight wins going into week 5. At that point, I couldn't help but sit back and think, "Dare I believe?" ... Well, I didn't and we dropped 6 games in typical Raider fashion.

As such, I didn't have much hope for Sunday with the Chiefs. I figured we'd make a battle of it before pissing the game away with a minute to spare.

But while thinking about everything that could go wrong for the Silver and Black, I failed to consider the one thing that could work to our advantage at the end of the 4th quarter: Herman Edwards.

The 2004 New York Jets aside, no Herm-led team has had a winning record after 6 games. Add that to the fact that Edwards is not only one of the worst clock managers of all time but also one of the worst in-game field generals since Gen. Ambrose Burnside, and I should have known that the odds were just too high in our favor for things to go wrong. 

Go Raiders and thanks Herm!

Hell Should Be Freezing Over... Shouldn't It?

Warning! Raiders Draft Does Not Compute

Being a glutton for punishment, I tuned in to the NFL Draft on Saturday equipped with 2 six packs of Rogue Brutal Bitter and a box of Kleenex. I was going to need both for a variety of reasons with Oakland's continued commitment to mediocrity being one of my primary concerns.

While the talking heads ran their mouths about nothing in particular, I began entertaining thoughts of a draft day trade where the Raiders ended up with Calvin Johnson, a free agent quarterback, and a bevy of draft picks. These delusions of grandeur got a little running room when Ed Werder appeared with rumors and conjecture but I snapped back into reality when Roger Goodell announced the obvious - the Raiders, attempting to make up for missing Matt Leinart and Jay Cutler in 2006 - were going with Jamarcus Russell as the #1 pick in 2007... Color me disappointed... I see "bust" written all over this kid and if that's true, our franchise will be set back another ten years. I hope I'm wrong.

I downed six beers over the course of the first round but then, in the second, something magical happened: "The Oakland Raiders draft Zach Miller, Tight End, from Arizona State."

The number two tight end on the board? I couldn't help but wonder if the Raiders were taking this draft seriously. Where were the DBs? The lightning-quick athletes with no actual position? The D-IAA or DII lineman that dominated the Directional Liberal Arts Conference? I could only conclude that someone in the war room must have realized that the Raiders haven't had a tight end that could catch since Dave Casper Todd Christensen*.

I'm not even sure where our current crop of tight ends came from. The starter, Courtney Anderson, is a 7th round pick from 04 who has no redeeming qualities but I can't make heads or tails on the rest of our guys. I remember Doug Jolley being on the roster but I'm not sure what happened to him. At some point, we were also pained with non-skill of Teyo Johnson, a Stanford product who is likely making pancakes these days in Michael Huff's IHOP. Hmm. Well anyway, Mel Kiper called Miller a poor man's Todd Heap (we passed on Heap to waste money on Derrick Gibson) and I'll take it, gladly.

From there, the goodness just piled on. Quentin Moses (DE), Mario Henderson (OT), God smiled when we picked up RB Michael Bush out of Louisville, and then, the most glorious news of all: Randy Moss to the Patriots! Granted, we got him in exchange for a sack of dirty towels and a bottle of Tide but I don't really care.

I have sat in seething hatred of the New England Patriots since the Tuck Rule ruined my hopes way back in 2002. Though I have developed reasons to root for them every now and again, that pain will never leave and a part of me is always rooting for their demise. Being excited about Randy Moss making a new home with them, especially when he still rips a 4.29-40, is in complete opposition to that. But Randy Moss and his quitter's attitude was a cancer in the Raider locker room. He has made no secret of his distaste for the new staff, new system, and new quarterback, and if we are to get anything accomplished with Opie Taylor leading the way, he had to go. While it would have been nice to get more for him than a sack of dirt, no team would have ever gone for it. What's he done in the last three years other than bitch, moan, and take plays off? No GM in their right mind is paying top dollar for a POS like that. Oh well. It's going to sting like mad when Tom Brady lights Moss up for 7 touchdowns at the next two Super Bowls but we're better off in the long run.

All of this good draft news notwithstanding, I still got sodding rat arsed. It was just too much to handle all in one day. System overload, I suppose. By the time Day 1 was over, I was out of beer, out of sorts, and out of commission. All in all, however, a Bravo to Al Davis and the Raiders. I don't know how they managed to not cock this up but I know better than to ask too many questions.

Draft Grade: B
Explanation: Jamarcus Russell = -10 percentage points. Sorry. I'm just petty that way.  

*A fine chap named Barry C corrected an oversight, advising that we actually have had a tight end that could catch since Dave Casper - the mighty HOFer Todd Christensen.

Calvin Johnson to Oakland Suddenly More Realistic

If I had to guess, 75% of players eligible for this year's NFL Draft have used marijuana. Hell, 10% are probably using as I type. But three players out of that 75% (or whatever the number happens to be) are projected to be top-10 picks in a couple of weeks; one of them is Calvin Johnson.

Now, I want to make it clear that I don't care that Johnson has smoked marijuana. The dreadful odor aside, I can't find any negatives that would rank lower than those associated with alcohol, cigarettes, or any other mind-altering substance. For all we know, the sweet ganja is what makes him so sleep, smooth and refreshing.
But his admission is pretty important and should be given proper focus. Why? Because the Oakland Raiders' number 1 draft pick is at stake. 

You see, I admire Johnson for doing the right thing by admitting to past behaviors that others may look upon unfavorably. It's incredible courageous, especially when millions are at stake. But this act didn't just show coaches, fans, and general managers that he can tell the truth. This admission caused Al Davis to turn his hearing aid up a notch. Do you realize how crucial this is at T-15 days to draft time? Suddenly, Duante Culpepper Redux ain't lookin so hot! Though what I'm really hoping for is a decision to trade down for more picks, this may be the best non-Jamarcus alternative that Al will agree to, so consider my hope restored!

Al loves the "troubled but talented and trying to reform" routine and if that's what it takes to snag Calvin Johnson at number 1, then please Calvin - keep smoking and telling us about it! You can do it, buddy.

The Oakland Raiders need you.

My sanity needs you... and so do my ulcers.

[IMG: CalvinJohnsonOnline] 

Thanks for Nothing, NFL Scheduling Committee

For a number years, Al Davis has claimed that the NFL is out to get the Oakland Raiders, using the regular season schedule (and the opening game, in particular) as his evidence. In all that time, I have never believed him. The schedules are predetermined with 14 of a team's 16 potential opponents set from 2002 - 2010. The other two games are determined by a team's record the previous year. There is no conspiracy.

As such, I blew off Davis' remarks as the rants of a crazy old man whose brain was being decimated by the same flesh eating virus that was destroying his face. And while that is likely the case, when Al complains about the NFL trying to put the wood to us this year, he'll be dead-on-balls accurate.

You see, after a putrid 2-14 season, the Silver & Black have been tasked with the hardest schedule in the league. Our opponents managed a .539 winning percentage last year and all three opponents in the AFC West finished .500 or better. What's next, NFL? Gonna make us trade our #1 pick for Josh "out of the league for 3 years" Booty? Oh wait, we already signed him. Nevermind.

2007 Regular Season Schedule
Week 1 – vs. Detroit
Week 2 – @ Denver
Week 3 – vs. Cleveland
Week 4 - @ Miami
Week 5 – BYE WEEK
Week 6 - @ San Diego
Week 7 – vs. Kansas City
Week 8 - @ Tennessee
Week 9 – vs. Houston
Week 10 – vs. Chicago
Week 11 - @ Minnesota
Week 12 - @ Kansas City
Week 13 – vs. Denver
Week 14 - @ Green Bay
Week 15 - vs. Indianapolis
Week 16 - @ Jacksonville
Week 17 - vs. San Diego

At least we open with Detroit. If we get lucky, Jon Kitna's 3rd quarter meltdown will lead to a couple interceptions that we can turn into field goals and this dramatic 6-point swing will help us notch a W before getting slaughtered after the bye week (Can we temporarily stop the bleeding at week 9? Maybe. Just maybe. Hope springs eternal). That said, a schedule like this is like setting a man on fire after someone else has already riddled him with bullets. Good lookin out, assholes.

Jerry Porter Plans to Crap on Tim Brown's Legacy

I have sported three Raiders jerseys over the course of my life – a Jack Tatum onesie (1983), Tim Brown (1987-2004), and Jerry Porter (2005). I had a Bo Jackson one as well but never wore it because my dad told me not to be a bandwagon jumper. As it turns out, he was talking about switching allegiances to other teams, not players, but I was about 7 at the time and didn't really understand the difference.

Anyway, the year before last, I decided it was time for a change and settled on Jerry Porter’s #84. I thought Porter was a jerk with serious personality problems but there was no one else that was worth a damn on our team. Besides, I thought he'd team up with Randy Moss to become one half of the most feared wide receiving tandem in the NFL.

Shame on me for trying to overlook the negatives.

Al Davis gave Porter more than $10M in guaranteed money with a pre-season signing bonus; Porter responded by sleepwalking through 2005. He posted two 100-yard games, a seven-reception game high, and a 12.4 yards-per-catch average. Awesome effort, Jerry. Good lookin out.

After that stirring display of mediocrity, he clashed with Art Shell and demanded a trade. I became so enraged that I poured gasoline on his jersey and burned it in the street. That's when I brought ole trusty #81 back out the closet; I could always wear that with pride, right? No. Not even close.

Now in the good graces of both Coach Lunch Money and Tim Brown, Jerry Porter is trading in #84 for Brown’s #81.

"I talked to him yesterday, and he feels some people might trip, but it's been four years since I had that jersey on,” said Brown.

Some people might trip? Tim, you're Mr. Raider. You’re the leading receiver in the history of the goddamn franchise. Let’s pass your number on to the obnoxious cunt in the gold-plated heavyweight title belt! That sounds like a great idea! Come on.

According to Porter, this is all okay because he's turning a new leaf and he needs the most dignified number in the Raiders franchise to make the transition complete.

"I am truly honored and excited about changing my number to 81," Porter said. "For me, the new number represents a new start, a new beginning and new attitude."

Well it's too bad you didn't do this last year. Maybe we wouldn't have ranked last in the NFL with 16 total offensive touchdowns, asshole.

This new leaf business is total bollocks. The expectations of wearing #81 aren't the same with the Silver & Black as they are with, say, the Eagles or the Cowboys. It requires more than playing with a steely resolve; it necessitates a willingness to do whatever is necessary to help this franchise no matter what adversity stands in the way. Is Jerry Porter honestly capable of that? I'm all for this fresh start of his but a tiger can't change his stripes.

It will require a complete re-wiring of Porter's brain for him to come close to being anything like Tim Brown. And I don't say that because I think Brown is God or a legendary, Hall of Fame-caliber receiver whose number should be in the heavens. He was neither. Tim Brown was simply very good and very reliable for a long period of time. But he exuded class and professionalism every day of his 17 seasons in the NFL, proving himself as an incomparable leader and a tireless worker. If anyone is going to wear his number, let it be the guy that embodies what he was all about, not a #2 receiver that takes his cues from Terrell Owens.

Hattip: The Hater Nation 

Al Davis Hires Doogie Kiffin, O.C.

The coaching job no one wanted is finally filled. After garnering little interest in the coaching world, the Raiders were left with the following options: Steve Sarkisian, James Lofton, and anyone on the planet who thought being an NFL coach would be pretty cool. I suppose I could add Dennis Green to that list but he didn't interview, opting instead to let his 16-32 record over the last 3 years speak for itself. Unique strategy.

It's really a shame about Green though. I thought he was the perfect candidate to lead this Raider ship on the final leg of our journey into the bowels of NFL Hell but I guess he had better things to do. Not surprisingly, so did Steve Sarkisian, USC's 32-year-old assistant head and quarterbacks coach. Always the front runner over Hall of Famer and Chargers receivers coach James Lofton, Sarkisian was all hearts and stars after his first interview. But when an offer was made, he ditched the job with a "Thanks for the rep boost, Al. Rather than let you put my balls in your desk drawer, I'm gonna stay down in LA and collect championship rings until a real job comes along."

That left the Raiders back at square one, so we turned to Lane Kiffin, a bloke that recently interviewed for the vacant OC position.

Other than rumors of his involvement in a Pete Carroll power play against Norm Chow, I know little about him. He's 31. His dad is Buccaneer defensive coordinator Monte Kiffin, architect of the Tampa Cover 2. He became the OC at USC two years ago and his NFL experience is limited to a season of bitch work defensive quality control for the Jags.

And now he's the 16th head coach of the Silver & Black.

Hiring this guy was so fucking clutch!!

Al Davis likes to hire young, innovative coaches with offensive minds.. he loves giving these blokes their first shot. But Jesus Christ. Lane Kiffin's innovation extends to re-numbering the pages in Norm Chow's playbook! Is there anyone in Oakland who takes this seriously? Here's a snippet from the press release:

Under Kiffin's leadership in 2006, the Trojans finished first in the Pac-10 in passing efficiency, averaging 264 yards per game, produced two 1,000-yard receivers (Dwayne Jarrett-1,105, Steve Smith-1,083) and a 3,000-yard passer (John David Booty-3,347).

In 2005, Kiffin was named one of the nation's Top 25 recruiters and served as coordinator of an offense that ranked in the top six nationally in every offensive category, including tops in total offense (579.8 yards per game) and second in scoring offense (49.1), and set Pac-10 records for total offensive yardage, first downs, points scored, touchdowns and PATs. The Trojans, who scored 50 points a school-record seven times, won games by an average of 26.2 points.

Kiffin's play-calling and design enabled Bush to capture the 2005 Heisman and the Trojans to become the first school to have a 3,000-yard passer (Matt Leinart-3,815), a pair of 1,000-yard runners (Bush-1,777, LenDale White-1,319) and a 1,000-yard receiver (Dwayne Jarrett-1,274) in a season.

No! No! No!

1. USC could have finished first in the Pac-10 in passing efficiency if the bush baby from American Idol was in the booth! When the system for an offensive juggernaut has been in place since, at least, 2002 and your players are absurd NFL talents, there's no real way to take credit for their inevitable  success! The real challenge of that job was doing your best to stay out of the way and avoid fucking up a sure thing!
2. Recruiting skill means dick. If that's so important, then here's what he needs to do -- limber up those texting thumbs, fuel up the Raiders jet, and start making home visits to the blue-chip free agents on the market this off-season. If he's such a masterful seller, sign the talent. I want to see what you can do when you're selling a laughing stock franchise and an owner that has the Ebola virus on his face instead of Pete Carroll, rings, and Paris Hilton's va-jay-jay.
3. Kiffin taking credit for the plays that won the Heisman for Reggie Bush is like the wind taking credit for Carl Lewis's gold medals. When play-calling and design is summed up by the words "Give Reggie the ball and watch the magic," that is not impressive.
   

But in settling back to reality, what choice did we really have? No one with functioning neural pathways wanted the job. We'd been turned down by college coaches - one without any head coaching experience, no less - two years in a row. And with a desperate Jerry Jones on the loose, anyone that could be swayed would head to Dallas long before signing up to be the new Manchurian Candidate in the Bay. It's like we're Jim from American Pie and we've been so widely mocked and despised for so long that our only choice was to settle with the band chick from USC...

But hey, maybe it's really not so bad. I mean, Jim did lose his virginity on the night of prom, which was the goal all along! So maybe Kiffin will pop our figurative cherry and lead us to heights unimagined -- crazy stuff like NOT leading the NFL in sacks allowed, NOT finishing with the fewest points (168) in franchise history, and NOT being held without an offensive touchdown for eight straight games. Who knows, with a little luck and a lot of smooth talking, we could get Lane Kiffin to coach us to three wins next year!

Go Raiders!

Raiders DE Tyler Brayton Is Not a Man

On most Monday nights, one can find an interesting matchup or, at the very least, a good team whose performance will hold your attention for a few hours. This is usually helpful in cancelling out the mind-numbing commentary of Theismann, Kornheiser, and, when he's not sleeping, Mike Tirico. But tonight's game between the Raiders and a Seneca Wallace-led Seattle had so few redeeming qualities that I can't imagine many of you tuned in.

And even if you did, you had to hang in until the waning moments to catch the first action of the evening. 

With 1:54 left to play, Mack Strong made a solid 4-yard run to keep the clock moving. But long after the play had ended, Raiders DE Tyler Brayton and Seahawks' TE Jerramy Stevens were still going at it. There was a lot of pushing and grabbing before the volatile Stevens made what appeared to be a half-hearted attempt at kicking Brayton in the knee.

Brayton responded by kneeing Stevens in the jimmy.

I couldn't find a picture of Brayton's cowardly act, so here's one of Cristina Ronaldo of ManUre.

Cristina is pictured in Lisbon carrying his man purse while sporting "see my bulge" jeans and carefully bleached ends.

He is an abomination. He is not a man.

And what Tyler Brayton did tonight is the type of shite Cristina would pull.

I have no truck with kicking a man in the groin but as a woman, I'm protected by a double-standard. If I need to neutralize a hazardous situation, a swift kick to the goolies will aid my cause. But this is not acceptable behavior for man-on-man aggression.

Jerramy Stevens has proven himself to be a wanking git, time and time again, and tonight was no exception. But at no point during the game did his behavior warrant such a weak dick move.

If a man has the stones to go after another, be it on the football field or otherwise, I expect him to fight like a man, not like me.

Had Brayton ripped off Stevens' helmet and beat him in the face, fine. If he had wrestled him to the ground and got a few licks in, okay. But when his first course of action was to kick Stevens in the sack, he should have left the field, showered, and hopped a red eye to meet Cristina Ronaldo at Louis Vuitton. He has more business getting a Mystic and a manicure in a London salon than playing football with the Oakland Raiders.

Growing up a fan of this team has numbed me to random acts of thuggery and craziness but it did not prepare me for players kicking others in the knackers and then justifying said actions by blaming "emotions."

That excuse is pure bollocks and wholly unacceptable. 

Art Shell was clearly lying when saying he planned "to show them the way, the 'Raider Way.'" Apparently, it's not enough that we continue to play like pussies; now, we have to fight like them too!

Two Games in a Row Makes a Streak!

Don't look now but my Oakland Raiders are officially riding a winning streak!

When we stopped the Steelers with about 2 minutes left to play, I tempered my enthusiasm. If I know anything it's that the Raiders will find a way to crap on my heart but luckily, Najeh Davenport's ineptitude got in the way.

I never would have thought a team could amass 51 passing yards, 83 rushing yards, and one interception and still come away with a 7 point win but thanks to Ben Roethlisberger's ever-deteriorating brain function and Bill Cowher's complete refusal to insert Charlie Batch, this impossibility came to fruition.

We Did It!

The Autumn Wind is a Raider,
Pillaging just for fun,
he'll knock you around,
and upside down,
and laugh when he's conquered and won (a game!)

I Finally Realized the Painfully Obvious

I grew up unintentionally rooting for nearly every team the masses love to hate courtesy of my father's brainwashing. Though a Chiricahua Apache, he was raised an orphan on the Mescalero Reservation and since there was no television, his sports knowledge revolved solely around a couple books an elder let him read about Mickey Mantle, Alabama football, and Jim Thorpe.

So when my grandparents adopted him, my Zayde's passions - namely, the Oakland Raiders - became his own. And in the time between his adoption and my birth, my father saw the Silver & Black go to the playoffs ten times, play the chump to the Pittsburgh Steelers three times, and win the Super Bowl twice.

Soon after I came along, it was Super Bowl time yet again. Clad in a Jack Tatum onesie, I attended Tampa Stadium with my family and slept soundly while the Raiders completely annihilated the Washington Redskins to win Super Bowl XVIII 38-9.

This marks the last time the Oakland Raiders won the Super Bowl. I only wish I'd been old enough to recognize and remember it, as I might live another 150 years and not see us win another.

Look, I know - I'm being melodramatic. I've never felt true pain like fans of the Bills, Browns, and other agony-inducing losers. I don't know suffering where the NFL is concerned (you all know about my misery as a tortured England fan). And while these losing years have been irritating, three seasons ago I was skipping practice to attend Super Bowl XXXVII. I have no right to complain.

But I'm allowed to make an observation, right? ... and maybe whine a little?  

Thanks! 

As most of you know, I've been openly wishing for Al Davis to die for nearly two years but I now realize that this won't solve the Raiders' woes. Even if he kicks off tomorrow afternoon, the Raiders will be in the abyss for years to come because the way the team is run won't change after he's gone. How can it?

The Raiders organization and fanbase have long been under the delusion that this team doesn't rebuild, it reloads. When my dad was first becoming a fan, that was certainly true, but nowadays, that belief is folly.

I used to think that Al Davis' decisions were based on misprioritizing wants over needs and that he was only interested in the big splash. But I now see that it's really a case of overconfidence. If you ask him, the Raiders are only a couple players away, and if we can just add those missing cogs to the gear, domination won't be far behind.

When you think you're in that situation, there's no reason to consider a rebuilding effort. And I'll give credit where it's due - that formula worked for twenty years, but nowadays, the cost of picking up guys like Warren Sapp and Randy Moss have only served in making things go from bad to worse to impossibly frightful.

The Moss signing epitomizes this doomed approach.

In early 2005, Oakland was (and still remains) in dire need of linebackers, safeties, and offensive linemen. I was looking forward to those holes being filled through free agency and the draft but then ESPN had breaking news - Randy Moss had joined the fold! Hello, Playoffs! But looking back, I can't understand how the organization was so short-sighted.

We had recently re-signed Jerry Porter to a ridiculous contract and he, along with Doug Gabriel, Ronald Curry, and Johnnie Morant, made up a competent receiving corps. Why pile on with Moss? I'm the first to admit that I saw 40-point games and an 11-5 record in the stars but having the best receiver in the league is pretty useless when our incompetent quarterback can't stay on his feet long enough to throw the ball.

Hindsight is always 20/20 but we lost far more than we gained, as a former and future first rounder went to the Vikings. It wasn't enough that we shipped off linebacker Napoleon Harris, that #7 pick could have been Shawne Merriman or Demarcus Ware or David Pollack - all of whom would have filled a dire need. Instead we have the still interception-less Fabian Washington and a future Hall of Famer that wastes his Sundays running routes with no destination.

Signing players like Moss under the delusion that it's the key to the Promised Land creates unrealistic expectations, both for the organization and the fans. This, in turn, heaps an incredible amount of pressure on the head coach. And when you're dealing with mediocre coaching talents like Norv Turner, Bill Callahan, Joe Bugel, and Mike White, this is a recipe for disaster, as they fail to meet expectations in short order. Soon enough they get the boot, making the new coach a lame duck before he's through the turnstyle.

If you're a player in this chaotic, unstable situation, how can you respect the coach or the organization? How can you buy into the system of a man who may be gone in a season's time? How can you make yourself care in an environment that breeds such a losing mentality? I know, as professionals, they're supposed live and die for their team no matter the situation in which they find themselves but that's not reality anymore. It's not 1972.

The Raiders spent 40 years mortgaging the future to create a winning franchise but sticking to that method for so long lead us to this sad state of affairs. It will take a serious change in policy in Oakland after Al's gone for things to improve.

Good thing I'm young. This could be quite a wait. 

+ By the way, Ahmad "Highway 28" Carroll was released today. I've got $500 says that we sign him tomorrow. Who's game?

Oakland Raiders Sign Jeff George

Ya know... there's only so much I can handle and signing Jeff George is really pushing me to the edge.

I know George wasn't picked up to be the starter; he's an insurance guy. After all, we are oh so blessed to have Aaron Brooks, a quarterback who may peak before the pre-season is over, and Andrew Walter, who will wait in the wings until he's unceremoniously cut the way Marques Tuiasosopo is about to be.

But with this signing, the state of the Raiders went from depressing to completely surreal. 

Interested in keeping his own job, Art Shell backed the move, stating "I've always been intrigued by the guy... "He still has that zip, he still has that quick release and was very impressive."

"I've always been able to throw the ball, I've been blessed to throw the ball. And I think I'll be able to do that till I'm 60," George said. "Football's football, plays are the same, terminology's a little bit different..."

Yeah, Jeff. And you're still the same collossal dick. 

I cannot understand how Al Davis expects us to believe that this is the best insurance policy in the whole of the quarterbacking world. There isn't someone in the whole quarterbacking world whose most recent achievement is better than coaching the run-and-shoot offense of his fourth grade son's team? Or, at the very least, a guy not championed by Jason Whitlock?

I know Al is all about giving Raiders another chance but goddamn. If we're going to sign some old balls quarterback, put a neck brace on Rich Gannon and see what he can do. Or better yet, drop a couple million to bring Flutie Magic to the Bay. You know that'd raise our potential for wins from 2 to 4.

What's that you say? Even a guy from Backup College has his standards? Yeah... maybe you're right.

Aston Villa Finds Its Fairy Godfather in Lerner

Sometimes I wonder what will happen when I die. Will a guardian angel with wings and a harp scoop me up and take me to the light? Will I reincarnate as a tapeworm or something else befitting all the shitty karma I've created? Will Death show up a la Family Guy to escort me straight to hell? I'm putting my money on the hell scenario and as such, I try to imagine what Death will look like.

All my questions were answered last night when prior to kickoff of Monday Night Football, the camera got up close and personal with Raiders owner Al Davis. I know I've said that he's the undead on previous occasions but he really took things to a new level last night. To make matters worse, it looked like someone carved his teeth out of a bucket of Parkay. Gross.

On the plus side, the Raiders managed another victory thanks to decent defense and Seabass' suddenly accurate leg. As usual, however, we were peppered with 4,000 penalties on both sides of the ball and the offense only had one moment of brilliance courtesy of Andrew Walter. Walter, who may be "waiting in the wings" until the End of Days, threw as beautiful a rainbow as you'll ever see in an indoor stadium.

Raise the total of bright spots in the Raiders offense thus far to one.

+

In other news, Aston Villa has found its fairy godfather. Cleveland Browns owner, Randy Lerner, is following Malcolm Glazer to the English Premier League, but unlike Glazer, he won't be met with harsh opposition. Long-suffering Villa fans exasperated by the miserly reign of "Deadly" Doug Ellis will welcome Lerner to Villa Park with open arms, as the promise of a major new transfer kitty will boost their hopes for the season ahead.

"It is my belief and the basis for my bid to acquire Aston Villa Football Club that it can compete at the highest level within the Premiership and in Europe... "The club has a rich history and a long tradition of passionate fan support." - Randy Lerner

Lerner is buying Villa for £62.6m and with the way he has turned around the Browns in such short order, it begs the question... could the Villans be on their way back to the middle of the table and a record hovering around .500 as well? It's anybody's guess!

I kid, I kid. Aston Villa were founding members of not only the Football League in 1888 but also the Premier League in 1992, and are one of the oldest and most successful football clubs in England. The Villans are also one of an elite group of 7 clubs (Arsenal, Aston Villa, Chelsea, Everton, Liverpool, Manchester United and Cuntenham Hotspur) that has played in every Premiership season....

As a Gooner, I couldn't care less about any of that nonsense. I hope they all choke and die. But from the perspective of an English football fan, the success and strength of the Villans is good for the game; the same can be said for Chelski, Liverpool, Manure, Cuntenham, and Everton. When these clubs are down, the EPL landscape just isn't the same and it sure isn't as much fun, unless, of course, you're a senseless tosser. [Yes, I know I just ripped myself off]

So good luck to Lerner and congratulations to Villans around the world. I can't wait until you self-loathing fucks are good again. It'll make the taste of victory that much sweeter when the Mighty Arsenal beats the hell out of you!!!

The Hall of Fame Game (Tame Version)

Life became a little more hectic as of 0430 yesterday morning, so I was unable to bitch and moan about the Raiders play in the Hall of Fame Game as planned.

As such, I only have this to say: Not. Good. Enough. ... I just realized that "I only have this to say" basically strikes 3 paragraphs of things I had to say. Pretend you didn't read that. Instead, here are a few toned down thoughts on the game and my current opinion on my favorite football team. If you want to know what the original was like, drop 15 or 20 f-bombs and spend the next 15 minutes pouting and screaming about something you can't fix. At least three times, you must look to the heavens, shake your fist at the Almighty, and ask him why it's so much to ask for Al Davis to die. Once you're through with that, you'll have an idea of what I was getting at.

Five minutes before kickoff Sunday night, I was reacquainted with an old friend -- Dread. With the exception of bye weekends, Dread visits me five minutes prior to kickoff on every Sunday between September and January.. we tend to have a pretty nice time. I eat wings and down pints while Dread mocks me and my fanship. It's an odd relationship but it works well for us. Seeming as Sunday was a meaningless pre-season game, and the first one at that, I hoped I wouldn't get beaten down by apprehension, fear, and anger but alas. It was not to be.

In the time that it took the kick returner to catch the ball and get mauled to the ground 7 yards later, I'd gone from zero to pissed. I was enraged over our ineptitude even though nothing had actually occured and only 8 seconds had ticked off the clock. I was hanging out with Matt at the time and he told me that it's okay to be annoyed but if I'm going to act like a lunatic for the next three hours, I could catch up with him when the game was over. Matt's a long-suffering Bills fan and when one of those cursed souls tells you to pipe down, you know you have a problem. So I got the message and stewed quietly for the next 3 hours. To avoid stroke, I squeezed a soccer ball between my legs.. by games' end, I'd thigh-mastered myself a new muscle group.

Throughout the game, I kept looking for glimmers of hope. A tackle here, a catch there, some type of positive sign.. something on which I could pin my hopes. I saw absolutely nothing. The game started with Brian Westbrook annihilating our first string defense all by himself. Westbrook is a good player, don't get me wrong, but yet again, the Radiers failed at one thing they could control -- tackling. The one-armed, half-assed tackle was back and in full-force Sunday night. On the Art Shell ship, the craptastic tackle was supposed to be a thing of the past but it appears our defense is still in remedial training on that one.

Our offensive drive began with a sack and a false start. It was like Groundhog Day out there. Eventually, however, we settled down enough for Aaron Brooks to toss a wounded duck to Courtney Anderson in the end zone. I should have been elated but all I could see was the will-be interception returned for a touchwhen when Brooks tries to weasel the ball into double coverage during the regular season.

After the touchdown, we relied on the leg of Sebastian Rape-ikowski to see us through, eventually showing the world that our guys who won't make the team were better than the Eagles' guys who won't make the team. We won 16-10. It wasn't pretty and it didn't inspire hope for the future but Oakland hasn't tasted victory in any form for nine months... I guess the Art Shell Era has to (re)start somewhere.

Now Is the Time on Sprockets When We Dance

I've somehow developed an obsession with Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man." The good thing is that the majority of you are men and have no idea what I'm talking about. The bad thing is that you know who Christina Aguilera is and have lost complete respect for me (if you hadn't already). The worse thing is this song results in involuntary butt shaking. [It's a horrible, ridiculous song but it's so goddamn catchy! My ass can't help it] ...

So it goes that when the hip-shaking beats of 'Ain't No Other Man" started up on the radio this morning, I sprung out of my chair and rocked out. Hard. My office door was shut, so I thought I was safe but then Boss walked in and watched silently with a couple others until the song's completion.

"Well goddamn Little Warner, you move your ass as fast as you run! I felt a breeze! I'll call in some more of the staff and you can put on a show for the whole group!"

I spun around to see a trio of 50-somethings in hysterics...

I am shamed.

One of our idiot grad assistants immediately found the song on the internet and now tries to play it whenever he spots me out of my office. It's usually not difficult operating in this testosterone-laden work environment but when I get caught shaking my ass while on top of a chair and desk and then around the room, it makes things awfully hard. I should live this down, oh, around January.

+

In other news, the Raiders are presently headed to Ohio for the Hall of Fame Game on Sunday, which reminds me of something... Jerry Porter can eat a dick!!

I've refrained from commenting on the Porter problem because I was far too angry to comment rationally. Though you'd argue that I'm always too angry to comment rationally, my feelings on this matter were far more extreme than what I have about anything else... save, of course, the existence of Tottenham Hotspur.

Some of you will remember that I chose a new target of Raiders devotion and jerseyship around this time last year. Having worn various Tim Brown jerseys since the age of 5, I was forced to move on to another player once he retired. Randy Moss and Warren Sapp weren't possibilities because I didn't want to nauseate myself when looking in the mirror. Charles Woodson was also out, as I still wanted to strangle him for lulling us into a false sense of security with a great rookie season and subsequent diva brand of suck. So I went with Porter. Sure, he's an annoying git with some serious personality problems, but I was willing to overlook these negatives because I mistakenly believed he'd make up one half of the most fearsome duo in the NFL.

I should have known better.

Porter sleepwalked through 2005 courtesy of more than $10M in guaranteed money from a pre-season signing bonus. He posted just two 100-yard games, a seven-reception game high, and a 12.4 yards-per-catch average. In six NFL seasons, he's caught 239 passes for 24 touchdowns and 3,215 yards. He has led the Raiders in receiving yards only once, in 2004, with 998 yards, and has never been to the Pro Bowl. So it makes perfect sense that he believes he has the right to be disgruntled with the way Art Shell is running the Raider Ship.

Art Shell has demanded effort, commitment, and discipline, particularly from stars like Moss and Porter. He wants them to work out at the Raiders facility and set a positive tone for the rest of the team. He wants them to be examples. But that's far too much for Porter to handle. When WR Coach Fred Biletnikoff asked Porter if he was staying around for the off-season program, Porter said he'd prefer to practice in Florida. I don't know if Porter is aware of it but he went to West Virginia, not The U. He's not Edgerrin James or Clinton Portis. Try that bullshit excuse once you've been to a Pro Bowl or two.

In response to this news, Biletnikoff said, "What's the matter, stud, you're not gonna stay here for the program?"

And that's when the madness started. It didn't end until Art Shell entered the room and asked, "Who the f--- do you think you are? Who do you think you're talking to?"

I know the answer to that, Art! Jerry thinks he's TO in an argument with Andy Reid. But what he doesn't understand is that one can't act like TO and then produce like Jerry Porter. Being a diva is not permitted when you're the #2 receiver for a franchise that death-spiraled to 13-35 while you were on the roster.

As a result of this incident, Porter wants out of Oakland and on to a team that either has Mike Martz or an offense that isn't "dusted off from a bed and breakfast in God knows where." Hopefully, he won't be given the pleasure. This horse's arse needs a swift kick to the chin and a warm place on the bench where he can reflect until he learns how to behave. I'm not sure what the actual penalty will be but I know Art Shell will be all over it. I was incredibly annoyed at the Shell hiring and openly hoped for Al Davis to die... multiple times... [That had more to do with the state of the Raiders as a whole than just the head coach situation] but I hope to be proven wrong. Hardass or not, Shell was a mediocre coach the first time around; I'm not confident in his ability to lead us to the promised land in his second attempt. But I am overjoyed at the way he handles this organization. The inmates run the asylum no longer and that's a great start. If it costs us a receiver like Jerry Porter, so be it.

In any case, it's time I start looking at new jerseys. I can't support an obnoxious cockbag like this. Any suggestions? Given that it's the Raiders, I suppose there are none. Maybe I'll put the Tim Brown back on and take on the role of the chick that just can't let go.

NFL Draft 2006 - 8 Random Day 1 Thoughts

• After they discover fire and the wheel, which (former) Ohio State linebacker will celebrate by ordering the roast duck with mango salsa at dinner - AJ Hawk or Bobby Carpenter?
• By drafting safety Michael Huff with the 7th pick of the draft, the Raiders have now taken 10 DBs since 2001. Here's hoping Huff becomes the first one to not be a bust and/or a total waste of time and money the way Fabian Washinton, Stanford Routt, Stuart Schweigert, Nnamdi Asomugha, Sideeq Shabazz, Philip Buchanan, Keyon Nash, and Derrick Gibson have been. Also, here's also hoping he's not Charles Woodson - the douchepump that didn't blow up until after lulling us into a false sense of security during his rookie year.
• Remember how the Scarecrow put all of that fear powder in the Gotham City water supply during Batman Begins? Maybe the same type of thing is going on in Buffalo, only with something called "Jump the gun 2 rounds premature" powder.
• What fuckup came up with this "Click Clack" Under Armour campaign? This is the worst commercial ever.. no really, EVER.. and it ran on nearly every commercial break. Don't get me wrong -- I don't think the other Under Armour commercials were worth a damn either but at least I got to rip my shirt off, look to the sky, and scream "WE MUST PROTECT THIS HOUSE!" at the end. That never failed to be an exciting time.
• ... I really miss Terry Tate, Office Linebacker.
• No Michigan player taken on the first day... it warms my heart 
• I really wanted Ringo Starr Brodie Croyle in the 3rd round. Dammit.
• Since the Titans took Vince Young (thus preventing Al Davis from doing so) I didn't drink myself into a stupor before the end of the first round. But then Paul McQuistan happened. Who knew Weber State had a football team? Al Davis sure does. The king of the undead wasted our third round pick on some random unproven that struggles dominating the DI-AA non-athletes in Big Sky country.
• Houston Texans fans seem to be the only people happy about passing on Reggie Bush. Someone may want to share this fact with Michael Irvin, who seems to be ready to grab a pitchfork and lead a mob down to the Texans facility for a riot.

Raiders Draft 2006: Further Down the Spiral

When talking to friends about the draft, they inevitably ask who I'd like to see the Raiders take in the first round. My initial thought tends to be, "The opposite of what Al Davis likes." Then I remember Fabian Washington and think, "Someone who actually deserves to be in the first round." After that, I spend another minute or so being depressed before shaping up and sharing my wish list.

As one can expect, I'm more worried about this draft than those of previous years. My Raiders are in a precarious position and it's a surreal feeling being consciously aware of the fact that we've reached the proverbial fork in the road. Sometimes teams fall apart and you don't realize it while it's happening. But 10 years down the line, you look back and can easily pinpoint the beginning of the end. Losing Jon Gruden was our beginning of the end but the damage can be reversed - at least somewhat - if things go right this year. It's true that we're lead by a senile pimp and Captain Mediocrity but with a great draft, maybe there's hope for the future... maybe we can reverse our free fall into the NFL abyss. With our track record, however, I don't think it's gonna happen. The last draft that would qualify as solid was 2000. I was still in high school and the only people I had to get excited about were: Sebastian Rape-ikowski, who could be great but can no longer see his penis because his stomach is in the way; Jerry Porter, who I love but really let me down last year; and Shane Lechler, the lights out punter. Two kickers in six picks... maybe THAT was the beginning of the end.

But back to the point at hand -- I'm terribly frightened of what Al Davis will be on about tomorrow. I keep reading reports that he's fallen in love with Vince Young.. that he'll do anything to have him.. that our draft hopes rest on being able to land Texas Rico. We desperately need a quarterback but in the short term, the only good thing I can see about drafting Vince Young is that the cameras for his BET reality show might catch Al Davis emerging from his coffin in the bowels of the Coliseum, thus proving that he is, in fact, the undead. And while Young might be great in the long run, the Raiders are on the brink and don't have time for a project. We can't wait for this kid to learn the game and get his mechanics together and even if we could, we don't have anyone to teach him! Resident mobile QBs - Aaron Brooks and Marques Tuiasosopo - shouldn't help elementary kids play neighborhood football after school, let alone act as guiding forces for a multi-million dollar investment! But I don't know why I'm complaining... we're going to draft Vince Young and I'm going to spend hour three of the draft tomorrow in tears, knowing that by midnight Sunday evening, Al Davis will have sealed our fate as the Arizona Cardinals of the 21st century.

I wish I could drop a bomb on the Raiders' war room. I'd replace the decision makers with trained seals and put together the best draft since the Kicker Special of 2000. We'd start by taking the 6'4, 305 pound DT from Oregon - Haloti Ngata - to fill the gaping hole left by the monstrous Ted Washington. If he's gone, we'd go with Texas DB Michael Huff, mostly because our secondary is decimated and the Bay Area needs a good IHOP..

In any case, I plan to be thoroughly liquored up this weekend in order to numb myself from the inevitable pain. So cheers to all. I hope your draft day treats you better than mine will.

Aaron Brooks Is a Raider... :-(

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Scary, er, Kerry Collins - Cut Yourself!

Dear Kerry Collins:

Your arrival in Oakland in May 2004 depressed me so much my sex drive slowed to an idle and I stopped eating. Soccer aside, food and sex are the only things that matter to me, so it's more than fair to say that you temporarily ruined my life. Things shaped up for me over the summer and I allowed myself to feel joy once again but then, in game 3, Rich Gannon pulled a Crash Test Dummy move near the goalline and you officially entered our lives like a stake through the heart. I cried that night and many nights since... 28 to be exact. With you under center, the Raiders were 7-21 and during that time, you threw 31 interceptions, got sacked 63 times, and either threw the ball away or dumped it off to someone like Tyrone Wheatley or Lamont Jordan for a 3 yard gain because you panicked before seeing Jerry Porter and Randy Moss breaking away from the secondary far too many times to count. Now, I know I've said this before but it bears repeating -- You are an underachieving trainwreck that handles pressure about as well as Barney Fife. Outside of fantasy football (where you're the equivalent of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man), your existence only offers value to the opposing team's defense. You'd think that if Randy Moss could get Chad Pennington into the NFL, he'd be able to turn you into a demigod but oh no, not you. Your inability to turn big stats and huge plays into wins made me wonder if we should be checking your bank account... who can lose that badly without putting for an effort to do so? In all this time, I've learned that you are only capable of three things: prancing to the sideline after pussing out in the pocket, tossing interceptions, and overthrowing everyone on the field by 15 yards. You always talked a better game than you played and had more courage when facing media and critics than when you were facing a blitz. And now that you're supposed to be gone, my fuckwit compatriots in Raider Nation are calling for the now-second string, Andrew Walter, to be the player that takes us back to the Super Bowl. I suppose Walter, who couldn't even manage to take the second string job from the horribly ineffective Marques Tuiasosopo, can't be any worse than an inept pod who looks like he seeks out glory hole action in the restrooms of parks and truck stops. Hell, Walter could be the savior! As one delusional poster of Raiderfans.net notes in a Vince Young vs. Andrew Walter thread:

"We should try Walter first and address the other pressing needs of the team. Young is not a once in a lifetime QB. Walter sheds men off him like Brady/Elway, so I wouldn't worry too much about that mobility issue."

Sheds men off like Brady/Elway... well case closed then! We're on our way back! See what you've done to these people, Kerry? Raiders fans have enough problems... and delusions of grandeur was already one of them. Why'd you have to pile on? Looking at your sad, pointy face through your little helmet after you overthrew the open man by 15 yards (again) made me ill. Seeing your confusion, as you failed to sell the play action for the 18th time only to be sacked made me want to get violent. Watching you drop back 28 fucking yards after every snap drove me to absolute distraction but you know what? That's just fine! That's okay because we can make it all better if you just cut yourself. Waive yourself. Walk away. Last night, I went to bed so full of happiness because I finally found out that we'd tossed you aside but then today - you've been UNcut! Over the last 3 years, I've said a lot of prayers about this and even though you didn't die like I wanted you to, it really seemed that the NFL's salary cap issues would do the job instead but alas, you're STILL HERE. I'm supposed to be patient. I'm supposed to accept that things happen in "God's time" and He works in mysterious ways but I'm sick of waiting on God! God is slow! God is chillin out! God doesn't care!!! Kill yourself, Waive yourself, Cut yourself, JUST LEAVE THE BAY! Please!

Cheers & good luck ruining the lives of other fans,
Flash Warner

Art Shell Ends the Raiders Coaching Search

The Original Comments

Is It Really So Much To Ask for Al Davis to Die?

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The Original Comments

Warren Sapp Sends Kris Jenkins To Abyss

The low point came after the Panthers’ Nov. 7 loss to the Oakland Raiders, when Jenkins was forced to watch Warren Sapp, a player he dislikes intensely, celebrate on Carolina’s field. “When we played Oakland and we lost to Sapp, I stopped going to the games then,” Jenkins said Thursday. “I was going to the games up to that point. I couldn’t go to the games anymore. After that, that’s when … I’ve never been an alcoholic, but I upped my consistency of it.

“He talks too much, he doesn’t make sense, he’s fat, he’s sloppy, he acts like he’s the best thing since sliced bread. He’s ugly, he stinks, his mouth stinks, his breath stinks, and basically his soul stinks, too."

Minor Complaints of Sport. Argh!