Observing wackiness at Raiderland takes the prize

<p>ALAMEDA</p><p>Let’s say tomorrow morning the Nobel Prize committee calls and says I won the Nobel for Literature. But there’s one condition.</p><p>“What’s the condition?” I ask.</p><p>“You must stop covering the Raiders.”</p><p>“No, way,” I tell them.</p><p>I mean, I’d like a Nobel like the next guy, but not at the cost of losing the Raiders, of missing the time of my life day after day, win or lose.</p><p>I thought, coming from New York, I had been exposed to every form of human behavior, bizarre and otherwise, but nothing compares with Raider behavior for outright knee-slapping enjoyment. Like what happened Monday at Lane Kiffin’s weekly press conference, like a Raiders official and a sportswriter almost got into a fight, as in mano a mano, as in, Whoopee!</p><p>But I’m getting way ahead of myself, going too fast. (Deep breath here.) I went to Raiders headquarters Monday because I thought I’d be reporting an ordinary garden-variety coach firing.</p><p>I’ve reported so many through the years. All over the Web, writers in the know (I guess) were reporting Kiffin got the ax, said people in the Raiders organization told him he was history. Just one thing. Two hours before Kiffin’s press confab, I happened to walk by the entrance to the building and heard voices and looked up and saw guys on a balcony sitting at a wrought-iron picnic table eating lunch. Kiffin’s mouth was full and he was holding a linen napkin and waving it around like a duke or an earl at the Court of Louis XIV.</p><p>“This doesn’t look like a coach about to face the guillotine,” I thought.</p><p>Sure enough, he showed up for the news conference and for a while he talked football until we started asking about his job security, such as it is. He said Al Davis has not told him he’s fired. I said I read “team officials” told him he’s fired.</p><p>Here’s what Kiffin said: “I’m not going to get into what’s been said around here by other people, or what I’ve been told by other people, because that really doesn’t mean anything until the owner makes a decision and tells me himself. That’s where it’s at. I have not had a conversation with him about it, nor has he gotten in touch with me. So I can’t worry about what other people say. If we believed everything people said around here, we would be in a lot of trouble.”</p><p>I think I love Lane Kiffin. Who else says stuff like that? He was implying Raiders officials — whoever they are — are telling him he’s fired, but he doesn’t listen to them, brushes them off. He’s waiting for word from the big boss, but the boss hasn’t said jack.</p><p>Hey, you think your place of business is crazy? Consider yourself blessed you don’t work for the Raiders.</p><p>Anyway, that bit of dialogue was a mere warm-up, call it an appetizer for the main course, which was about to be served.</p><p>Tim Kawakami from the San Jose Merc said, “Lane, there was a report of team officials telling you you were fired and one of those guys passed out a negative story about you to writers.”</p><p>Suddenly, we heard shouting. Someone toward the back of the room was shouting, “That’s not true. That’s not true, Kawakami.”</p><p>I’ve never in my life heard anyone interrupt a news conference to tell a reporter he’s a liar. But I’ve been doing this for a mere 30 years so maybe I’m inexperienced.</p><p>The shouting interrupter was Raiders senior executive John Herrera, who last week made Raiders beat writers aware of an article critical of Kiffin. Herrera is involved in Raiders public relations, and the fact that he instigated a scene like this tells you about the Raiders’ attitude toward public relations.</p><p>My sources tell me Herrera personally handed the article to one beat writer and told others of its existence and encouraged them to read it. I interpret this as sabotaging Kiffin — probably on orders from Al Davis. I certainly wrote a column based on that information a few days ago.</p><p>So, Herrera was yelling right there at the news conference like a protester at a political rally, and Kawakami ignored him and Kiffin, who seemed amused, ignored him, and the news conference continued with Kiffin saying he didn’t worry about being isolated in the Raider loony bin. Loony bin is my phrase, not Kiffin’s. The news conference continued but the mood turned dark. </p><p>When it was over and after Kiffin left the room, Herrera shouted at Kawakami, “You’re a liar. You built a whole column on a lie. So did Lowell Cohn.” (Hey, John, I thought we were pals.)</p><p>Kawakami put his hand on Herrera’s arm in a peacekeeping gesture and said, “Calm down.”</p><p>Herrera violently threw off the hand. He was breathing hard, seething.</p><p>“Get your hand off me,” he shouted. “Get your (bleeping) hand off me.”</p><p>“Do you want to take a punch at me?” Kawakami asked in a calm voice. </p><p>“Yeah, I’d love to,” Herrera shouted.</p><p>“I’d love to own part of this franchise,” Kawakami said.</p><p>He meant that if a Raider official slugged him, especially with the cameras running and the tape recorders recording and about 30 sportswriters in the room, Kawakami probably could own the Raiders’ headquarters and Davis’ house and Herrera’s car and his money market accounts.</p><p>I’m not making any of this up. It really happened. This is comedy at its best, folks.</p><p>Herrera, who hadn’t yet calmed down, shouted, “Nothing was distributed in this room. Nothing. Nothing.”</p><p>Kawakami said, “You’re welcome to sue me.”</p><p>He meant the truth is his defense — and it is.</p><p>It’s always interesting to observe how much the Raiders hate the media, and blame the media for their own ongoing screw-ups.</p><p>And, no, I don’t want the Nobel Prize if it means missing out on fabulous days like this. </p><p>For more on the world of sports in general and the Bay Area in particular go to the Cohn Zohn at cohn.pressdemocrat.com. You can reach Staff Columnist Lowell Cohn at 521-5486 or lowell.cohn@pressdemocrat.com.</p>