My Raiders origin story
Once a week, a reader will ask me how I became a Raiders fan. I’ve never traveled to a home game, and am not a California native. There is a legitimate quizzical nature to the question. People can’t wrap their collective minds around my allegiances. Well, here is a one-time explanation.
Location: I grew up 3,000 miles from Oakland, in scenic Hartford, CT. As a kid, Hartford served as a melting pot of various NFL fans. Anyone who tells you they’ve been a Patriots fan since birth, and are under the age of 35 is lying to your face. No one rooted for them until they reached Super Bowl 20. After the Bears annihilated New England, a decade elapsed before they were relevant.
Family: My family is a bunch of rabid NFL fans. Sadly, they’ve all chose wrong. My late father rooted for the Bears, brothers cheer for the Giants, Washington Racial Slurs, Cowboys and Steelers respectively. The two that influenced me are the Cowboys and Steelers fans. Sharing a room with these clowns ensured that I’d never root for either of those teams. They are ten years older, so babysitting fell into their chores. As a five-year old, they watched me while my parents went to dinner. The local NBC station would broadcast AFC West games at 4pm. They sat me down and told me to shut up, and watch. The game featured the Raiders defeating the Broncos 14-10. The style of play and general disregard for their rival captivated me. November 25, 1979 started my Raider journey.
January 19, 2002: While the date may not ring a bell, two words might catch your attention: Tuck Rule. Yes, I sat through literally mounds of snow, cold, and atrocious food to watch this travesty. Worse yet, the ear-splitting dumpster fire, known as the Boston accent resonating through the stadium. With my last breath, watching it live: Charles Woodson popped Tom Brady, forcing him to fumble. I never believed in the anti-Raider conspiracy theories until that moment. Pictures exist of me, drinking Jameson and Sam Adams, left me with two things; a monstrous hangover and a realization that the referees robbed Oakland. It’s been almost 15 years, and I will never make peace with that. Somewhere, the beer-soaked ticket stub exists as a reminder of being so close to winning. I still playfully troll Mike Pereira.
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All I’ve Ever Known: I am a Raiders fan, and will always be. If you are reading this, you are as well. We’re born into this fan base. We haven’t known a winning team in over a decade. Any bandwagon fans moved on a long time ago. For the last 37 years of my life, I’ve been dedicated to this franchise. It’s not about the cool uniforms or history. To me, it is the feeling of waking up Sunday morning and feeling goose bumps eagerly anticipating the game. Whether on the road or watching in my living room, being a Raider fan is who I am. We’re a different breed of person.
Why I Write: While I have other (non-NFL) writing jobs, none mean this much to me. I am fortunate enough to share my insight/opinion with fellow Raiders fans weekly. Does it get any better than that? Readers don’t have to agree. If I provoke deeper thought, then I’ve done my job. No hot takes, just honesty.
I write analytically, saving most of my passion for watching the games. I believe Raider Nation deserves clear analysis, devoid of homerism or fan boy opinion. Nothing annoys me more than overly passionate writers, misconstruing facts and failing to recognize basic football concepts. The readers of this site deserve the absolute best Raiders-related blog there is. Honestly, no other blog approaches to the quality of cover32. Feel free to look around, and then come back to us.
In roughly eight weeks, my son will enter the world. He will join his two-year old sister as the only Raiders fan siblings in tiny Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Being a Raiders fan is an honor, passing from parent to child. I am ecstatic at the direction of the franchise. Here’s to hoping Little Boy Biggs will enjoy many victorious autumn Sundays.
Over the years, I have shed tears, spilled celebratory beer and thrown a few punches during games, none of which I am exceptionally proud of. What brings me back, even through losing? Love. I love this team, no matter what. Oakland, LA, back to Oakland, maybe Vegas, or wherever they reside, I will always be a die hard fan.
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