Chucky's Back

It’s January 26th 2003. It’s been snowing quite heavily in NYC and Mairin and I are not sure how we are going to get a cab to Dara and Greg’s place. We have been living in New York for a little over a year, having just returned from two years in Mozambique.

During which time I was unaware of the rise of my favorite football team- the Oakland Raiders. I have written about my ups and downs with this storied team many times in the past, but a quick recap might get us all on the same page:

I was a devout fan from 1988-1994. A huge fan of the Art Shell years, a few .500 seasons and a return to Oakland was a nice touch.

Then the nineties took over. I moved to San Diego and then The City and got lost in my youth for a decade and lost touch with the Silver and Black.

1999-2001 I was in Africa and didn’t realise that they made it to the AFC champion game twice and lost the Tuck Rule game.

I vaguely remember Gruden from 1998, but I got caught up in 2002 and realised that he had moved to Tampa Bay and thus was dead to me.

So back to our story on January 26th, 2003. We were headed to Dara and Greg’s for a Superbowl party, with get this- the Raiders playing the Gruden coached Buccaneers. I had already built up an unhealthy hatred for Chucky, before kick off, but this loathing was exasperated by half time, when it was clear that he was dismantling the system he had created.

We didn’t have a chance.

I was already seething at half time with a 20-3 score when Shania Twain, Sting and No Doubt played some hideous medley.

During the third quarter Tampa Bay marched 89 yards on a 14-play drive that took 7:52 off the clock, and ended with Johnson's 8-yard touchdown pass to McCardell to increase their lead to 27–3. Then on the second play of Oakland's ensuing drive, Buccaneers defensive back Dwight Smith intercepted Gannon's pass and returned it 44 yards for a touchdown, making the score 34–3.

I was losing my mind.

Everything I had ever wanted from sports was being pissed on by Gruden and there was nothing I could do about it. The beginning of the fourth quarter looked promising, but I had had enough and with a healthy buzz and more than ample agitation, I must have yelled something along the lines of- “let’s just get the fuck out of here.” To which Mairin, who was not paying the least bit of attention to the game said, “but it’s snowing pretty hard.” “It’s fine. Let’s just walk. It’s not that far.” I felt like I needed the air.

I forced us to bundled ourselves up and we were about to leave when Gannon threw a 48-yard touchdown pass to wide receiver Jerry Rice with 6:06 left in the game, cutting the Raiders deficit to 34–21.

“Well? Let’s go.” Mairin was pissed.

“But we can’t go now. There is still a chance. Rice just caught a touchdown." But she would not be convinced, she was not taking off all her snow stuff and decided to walk home. A better man would have realised that we were doomed and would have jut left and walked his finance home in the cold, dark, winter NYC night, but I am a Raider fan and for some reason I always think that my team will at one point in my life not disappoint me and crush my soul.

I removed my coat and sat back on the couch. Greg, a true sports fan, knew what was happening and gave me another beer. I don’t think the casual viewers were too excited about my choice. But we can ask Risa about the details there. I'm a bit fuzzy. I am pretty sure they would have preferred to turn the game off and finish off the celery and hummus.

In an attempt to prevent a Raiders comeback, the Buccaneers managed to run the clock down to 2:44 on their ensuing drive before being forced to punt. Then on third and 18 from the Oakland 29-yard line, Tampa Bay linebacker Derrick Brooks intercepted a pass from Gannon and returned it 44 yards for a touchdown, giving the Buccaneers a 41–21 lead with only 1:18 left, and leading Buccaneers radio announcer Gene Deckerhoff to make his famous call of "The dagger's in, we're gonna win the Super Bowl!"

There is a strange hatred that grown men have for other men whom they have never met in sports and on that night, this Jon Gruden surpassed my hatred for Joe Montana and John Elway.

Jon Gruden was the dead to me. He had done this. He had taken my team, given them life and then switched teams and taken that life right back. He was the devil and until a few days ago, I could barely look at his face.

What happened a few days ago and was made official today?

John Gruden was named the next Oakland Raider coach. He was given a ten year contract worth 100 millions dollars and I am certain he will be our next savior. I cannot put into words how excited I am about this choice.

I am sure he will find a way to disappoint me again, but after the shit show season we had with low-talker Del Rio, a little Chucky fire is what we need. I wish the playoffs would just end so next season can start. #raidernation is back baby. This is our decade (For once, please let some of that be true.)

 

 

Speaking of playoffs, it’s hard to care about any other teams, but you have to root for some one. So for this year, my AFC team is anyone but the Pats, but I like what the Jags owner just did, making playoff tickets available for refugees and discounting tix for vets. Their defense is fun to watch and I like a rookie running back, so I hope they can represent the AFC. As for the NFC, I gotta go with the Saints. I like the rookie back Kamara and with Ingram they will be fun to watch.