Not crying any tears for Raiders fans.
The Raiders’ pending move out of Oakland reminds me of my dad’s story from his ill-advised visit to the Coliseum for a Seahawks-Raiders game back in the early 2000s:
As he and my mom walked through the parking lot to the stadium, the air was filled with the stench of marijuana and other gag-inducing odors. Tailgating for Raiders games is apparently one big bong fest.
As my dad watched the game in the first half, the thug behind him kept spitting his chaw onto the back of Dad’s Seahawks shirt. What kind of a lowlife does that to a 60-year-old man?
I asked him why he didn’t get security to toss the miscreant out or have him arrested for assault. He said “security” had no interest in wading into the stands, where they would have been pummeled by drug-addled roughneck Raider fans.
At halftime, Dad took off the shirt and threw it away (fortunately, it was a sunny day) — then went and found seats where he wouldn’t be assaulted. I suspect that was a pretty tough task.
Enjoy the Raiders, Vegas!