By Kyle Jorrey
Sports Editor
Somebody might want to pinch the city of San Diego – and wake them up from this horrible nightmare.
Word from the press wire is that residents started seeing visions sometime late Sunday night — frightening visions. Visions of a black and silver cloud, gliding ever so ominously down the 5 Freeway on a direct course for Mission Valley.
No, it’s not the atmosphere of San Bernardino County, it’s Raider Nation – and it’s headed your way.
I’m sure when city officials received the news that they would be the host of the country’s biggest sporting event they were overcome with joy. Heck, a Super Bowl can bring a city millions of dollars in revenue and big publicity. But this Superbowl, in addition to these things, has brought fear.
Few would disagree that this weekend’s quickly approaching game represents, before the fact, one of the best Superbowl matchups ever.
The NFL’s No. 1 defense, Tampa Bay, versus its No. 1 offense, Oakland, which just so happens to be facing its former coach, Jon “Chuckie” Gruden, only one year after he jumped ship. And to say that these teams are full of characters, good and evil, is an understatement.
Nevertheless, this does not change the one undeniable and unavoidable fact that has brought the city of San Diego to its knees. When the Raiders show up in town for the game, so do their fans, black doo-rags and silver brass knuckles included.
Now I don’t want to perpetuate an unfair stereotype of Raiders fans — one that describes them as thugs or violent criminals, or anymore fanatical as other fans in the league. Maybe the team was cursed from the start, when it chose those colors and that logo — a pirate holding a knife. Maybe if they picked colors like purple or sky blue then every tough guy from Pomona to Palo Alto with a bandana and leather jacket wouldn’t have chosen to support the silver and black. Really, doesn’t a black Raider beanie go just a little too well with a dark sweater, dark jeans and nylon stocking mask? Maybe that’s just me.
Either way, the fact remains that when 30,000 Raiders fans (possibly more) trickle down to their home away from home, many of them with no way of affording the $3,000 cost of a ticket, heads are going to roll and fists are going to fly. And, if they win … well let’s just say Raider fans aren’t going to be satisfied with a toast and a handshake. My hope is that the San Diego Zoo keeps its carnivorous animals ready in their cages, and the Navy makes sure to park those nuclear submarines outside of the harbor.
All joking aside, this weekend’s Super Bowl should be one of the best ever, as it honestly represents the league’s two most talented ball clubs. I’m sure the city of San Diego will survive, be it with its jail cells a little more cramped, and Raider fans will return home to cheer another day.
Drunken upper-deck fights. Personal fouls. Al Davis. Low-rider car clubs. They are part of the Raider mystique. They are a part of football. And that’s OK with me.
January 23, 2003