I began this day thinking of Dennis Allen. Drifting off to sleep last night in a pill and marijuana laced stupor, I heard the siren call of my text messages, friends letting me know that the coaching carousel had begun, still in September.
Somehow all these thoughts of coaching and firings and carousels and Raiders history bled together and led to terrifying visions of losing and hopelessness. And then I dozed off. HEYO!
I’ll let Robert Plant take over, because the lyrics of “Carouselambra” practically foretell the tale of the Oakland Raiders. The following lyrics tell the story, Led Zeppelin in bold. Next time some jackass Raider fan drunkenly recites Steve Sabol’s The Autumn Wind to you, let him know there’s a song closer to the truth…
Sisters of the way-side bide their time in quiet peace, Await their place within the ring of calm; Still stand to turn in seconds of release, Await the call they know may never come.
That’s probably Los Angeles, the City of Angels, waiting for the Raiders to return.
In times of lightness, no intruder dared upon To jeopardize the course, upset the run; And all was joy and hands were raised toward the sun, As love in the halls of plenty overrun.
No one dared challenge Al Davis.
Still in their bliss unchallenged mighty feast, Unending dances shadowed on the day.
Within their walls, their daunting formless keep, Preserved their joy and kept their doubts at bay.
Ah, Raider Nation. How they preserve that joy, I don’t think I wanna know. But they certainly have a daunting formless keep and keep their doubts at bay. But!
Faceless legions stood in readiness to weep, Just turn a coin, bring order to the fray;
Faceless legions?! Turn a coin?!
And everything is soon no sooner thought than deed, But no one seemed to question in anyway.
Too true. Even when they drafted Jamarcus Russell, and rehired and refired Art Shell.
How keen the storied hunter’s eye prevails upon the land, To seek the unsuspecting and the weak;
This was Al Davis from the 60s to the early 80s. But then:
And powerless the fabled sat, too smug to lift a hand Toward the foe that threatened from the deep.
That foe would be Father Time, aka The Undefeated One.
Who cares to dry the cheeks of those, who saddened, stand adrift upon a sea of futile speech? And to fall to fate and make the ‘status plan’? Where was your word?
Where was his word? How did Plant see the “professional liar” press conference 30 years out?!
Where did you go?
Hell, probably. I kid, I kid! Al Davis went where all souls go. Eternal oblivion. That deep dreamless sleep, the privation of all sentience, the uber BLACK HOLE.
Where was your helping, where was your bow?
Dull is the armour, cold is the day.
Hard was the journey, dark was the way.
I heard the word; I couldn’t stay.
But how did McKenzie feel about the Allen regime?
I couldn’t stand it another day, another day,
Another day, another day.
I get the point.
Touched by the timely coming, Roused from the keeper’s sleep,
Release the grip, throw down the key.
Could it be? Signs of hope for the 12 game Sparano test run?
Held now within the knowing, Rest now within the peace.
Take of the fruit, but guard the seed.
Maybe “take of the fruit” bodes well for the turnover ratio? Currently they’ve only got 5 takeaways with 9 turnovers. More prescience from R. Plant.
But what of Reggie McKenzie and others in charge?
They had to stay!
If you say so. Good luck with THAT, Raider Nation.