Nevius: Sadly, real Raiders left Oakland a long time ago

OAKLAND - Derek Carr is right. Last week in Raider-ville was weird.

The team spent the week preparing for a fond, emotional farewell to the city of Oakland.

Or maybe not.

No one can say what's going to happen after Monday night's game. It's a black hole. If they never play again in the Coliseum, the team will be accused of “ghosting” its loyal fans. That's when you vanish without telling anyone goodbye.

But if a deal is worked out and the Raiders play one more year here, what was all the fuss about?

“It's just weird to me,” Carr said. “This is home. I left my blood, sweat and tears on that field. I broke bones out there.”

For what it is worth, the betting here is that they play another year in Oakland. First, it isn't that easy to find an empty 63,000-seat stadium. And the city of Oakland would surely rather get one more year of rent than none more year of rent.

But that doesn't change the essentials. This year or next, the Raiders are off to Las Vegas.

Already we are hearing heartfelt testimonials.

Which is fine. But it ignores a simple truth - the Raiders have been gone for years. Sure, they put uniforms on players and ran them out the field, but they were just shuffling through the motions. They were zombie Raiders.

The real Raiders franchise, the powerhouse that made Oakland proud and the rest of the NFL nervous, hasn't been the same since the 1990s.

The original Raiders were a genius concept, a perfect symbiotic fit for Oakland. They were gritty, disruptive and flamboyant. Later, when their fans began to dress like drag queen biker gangs from Mars, you could see how flamboyance was a plus.

Today we treat Al Davis like a cartoon. And granted, he didn't help himself when he was the only owner in professional sports to wear his own costume.

But Al Davis made the Raiders.

And then he wrecked them.

To be clear, no one is saying Davis is in the Hall of Fame because of his quirky wardrobe. Go ahead, snicker at his Elvis jumpsuit and duckback haircut, but he changed the professional game.

In 1966, when the upstart AFL wanted to work out a deal with the established NFL, the owners named Davis commissioner. He was 36.

(Al always wanted it pointed out how young he was when he accomplished things. He once told the guy writing his bio that he could write anything as long as it included the words “young” and “genius.”)

With customary ruthlessness, once he had the job Davis had AFL teams signing and stealing established NFL quarterbacks. The NFL owners folded like soggy saltines. A merger was arranged.

Then he came back to the Raiders, and with customary ruthlessness, he elbowed out other owners and took over as face of the franchise and general manager.

The team then went on a remarkable run - 13 division championships and three Super Bowls between 1967 and 1985 - which would be more fondly remembered if it wasn't a time of turmoil, lawsuits and a change of cities.

Granted, Al made a lot of smart calls. And he had very specific ideas about what he wanted.

You notice the Raiders don't retire numbers. They repurpose them. When Al was in charge, a player was given a number formerly worn by someone with the same characteristics.

So when he picked up an aging, “washed-up” quarterback like Jim Plunkett, he gave him 16, because 40-something George Blanda had worn it. Plunkett then won two Super Bowls.

But Al made some terrible mistakes. JaMarcus Russell, the LSU QB who was the first pick of the 2007 draft, was classic Al. He couldn't resist a big guy with a huge arm. Today Russell is in the running for Worst Draft Flop Ever.

People say by the time Davis was making looney draft choices, he was showing his age. And yes, Al refused to hire a general manager and held the job until he died in 2011 at 82. But he made some real bonehead calls when he was in his 50s, too.

The worst was moving the team to L.A. The franchise never recovered.

Al was all about TV rights then, convinced that the rights for the biggest markets, like L.A., would be huge. The Raiders had to move to stay competitive.

“You just don't understand,” he told me once.

The Raiders kicked around in L.A. - and yes, won a Super Bowl - but that glittering new stadium never materialized. Like a cheating husband, the Raiders begged to come back. And Oakland, who was there for the birth, said yes. Yes!

It has never been the same. Since returning in 1995, they've had four winning seasons.

The other 20 (including this year) have been .500 or worse. This isn't a few bad years; this is a dysfunctional team.

Can they turn it around?

Well, we know two things about Al's son, Mark, now in charge. He goes all the way to Palm Springs to get his hair cut. And that is the result. I don't have much faith in his judgment.

As for Gruden, I still believe in him. And kudos for remaining positive. If anyone can turn this, he can.

The thing is, if it happens in Las Vegas, it will be amazing how little we will care.

Contact C.W. Nevius at cw.nevius@pressdemocrat.com. Twitter: @cwnevius