Raider Heartbeat Is Fading Fast

  A seven year-old boy sits in front of a television screen, taking in the bone-crunching blows and streaking silver helmets. The setting is perfect. It's his seventh birthday, his uncles are watching the screen, letting out whooping cheers, and he's never seen or heard anything like it before. The kid was in love.

 Fast forward 25 years. The same boy, now a 32 year-old man, sits in a green seat with his wife in section 309 at the Oakland Coliseum. He's still in love, but he feels that it's one of those loves that just wears you down and beats you up until the love turns to hurt then turns to anger. He feels let down, betrayed, and helpless. He continually looks at the luxury suites directly across from his section, looking for the decrepit, old crypt keeper who like an old, worn-down boxer, has no idea it's time to throw in the towel.

 The boy-turned-man wishes he could tell the old man everything that everyone in the stadium and the country know is wrong with this organization. He wishes the old man would loosen his dictatorial grip on what was once a proud, feared, and even admired organization.

  Bringing in someone to run the team, and letting his coaches coach, may be what is needed to correct the wrongs of the franchise. The reluctance to yank JaMarcus Russell after another horrible game, the insistence on making Darren McFadden the premier running back, and sticking with the latest in what's been a run of horrible decisions on draft day, Darrius Hayward-Bey, have the old man written all over them.

  As the team descends into what is the seventh straight year of futility (a once unthought of occurence in the East Bay), the man who once sat in front of a television when he was seven years old and fell in love with the team of the decades, echoes the sentiment of the thin crowd at the Coliseum.

  The heartbeat of what was a promising new season begins to fade straight to flatline status. While the team with the NFL's most notorious fans overdosed on big arms, flying 40 times, and a non-blitzing defense (more evidence of the old man's meddling), there was no ambulance rushing to get it to the hospital. While they barely avoided being declared DOA by an inspired defensive stand, the team from the Mile High City pulled the life support on Sunday.