So long, Raider Nation

super bowl(The following post was written this morning. I was going to post it at work, since my home system wasn’t working, but my computer at work wouldn’t read the disk — work computer doesn’t read Mac disks, which I forgot about, while home system does … so I’ll post this now … why waste a good post?)

Yesterday was a good day.

Not only to the Raiders lose the Super Bowl, they were embarrassed. They horse-whipped, hog tied, and dragged through the mud. The final score was 48-21, but the game wasn’t even that close. Rich Gannon, from early in the fourth quarter, looked like he’d been hit over the head with a tire iron and didn’t know where he was. His mouth hung open in disbelief as gnats hovered over his tongue.

I rarely root for any team in the Super Bowl. This is the first time in 19 years (the last time the Raiders played in the big game) that I actively rooted against a team.

I’m also happy for John Lynch, the linebacker for Tampa Bay and a San Diego kid. I met Lynch when he was in high school. I was assigned by a short-lived magazine called San Diego Choice to profile his father, who was CEO of Nobel Broadcasting, which owned radio stations 91-X and XTRA-690. I interviewed the elder John Lynch at their north county home. Lynch spent a good deal of time talking about his son, who obviously had a bright football career ahead of him and was already planning to attend Stanford. What do I remember about young Lynch? Nothing. Dad introduced reporter to son. “Hi.” “Hi.” Son left house. Still, he seems like a good guy. He’s from San Diego. So I’m happy he’ll get his Super Bowl ring.

For the festivities, my wife and I drove over to Bakersfield and watched the game with my brother. It was a beautiful day in Buck’s town, if you don’t pay attention to the thick layer of smog that hung over the valley. As we pulled over the Tejon Pass, we thought Bakersfield was covered in a lake of purple water. Not a pretty sight.

The picture with this post is of the historic Bakersfield gateway sign, which now hangs outside of the saloon and shrine built by Buck Owens called the Crystal Palace.

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