Well, instead of living with San Francisco’s older brother that got into drugs, dropped out of high school, and went to rehab for a few years (the highlights of his life), the Oakland Raiders will be moving in with Dad’s friend, Vegas (catchphrase: “Yeah, Baby! Hahaa!”), who also went to rehab. But unlike Oakland, Vegas used it as a cover-up for selling kilos of cocaine, buying the jury into letting him off with a couple of months in the can and a rehab stint.
So, with most teams having a fanbase identity, here begs the question: what kind of new fans are going to root for the Raiders now? From Vegas-condo-owning high-rollers to weird junkie locals to tourists who don’t have a team, there should be an unusual mix of people gaining fandom in the team’s new city. Back in Oakland, they seemed to have it all together – the Raiders were the thing everyone bonded over, the team culture that grew them as people, and, for some, it provided apparel they could wear to look dark and scary in (not a racist reference, but now it is).
Now, the team is moving to the place where sports betting was probably literally invented, if not perfected, which some people say “ruined the sport!” (Boston accent). My guess is they’re very confused in Oakland, maybe so confused and betrayed they’ll choose a Canadian football team before siding with the (T)raiders who moved to a city they’ve never visited, Raiders nation majorly consisting of a demographic that probably couldn’t identify the Bellagio from a Knight’s Inn in Atlantic City (see: prostitute hot spots).
I hope the Las Vegas Raiders, which is already weird to say, gather a crowd of the biggest high-stake coke heads in the US that influence their players to create intensely dramatic scandals (after all, lots of players blow all their money… somehow). I hope they hire cheerleaders that wear nothing but bodypaint, build strip-clubs (excuse me, gentlemen’s clubs) in the stadium, put tigers in cages near the fans, shoot fireworks at every third down conversion, and most importantly have bookies at the end of each aisle for impromptu prop bets. They’ll even take credit cards. Money, Sex, Drugs, Murder (hopefully), Mystery… The Vegas Raiders. Done deal, the new team slogan. While team scandals are always a ‘bad’ look for a franchise, they create excitement in the league. With NFL ratings in a steady decline, they need this type of fiasco. At the end of the day, people want ridiculous shit to talk about and Las Vegas provides oh so much of just that.
Potential new Vegas Raiders fans:
Your classic visitors of Vegas – the girls ready to fuck shit up at the club.
The guy playing his guitar too loudly on the overpass who smiles at you while nodding his head, one quarter at a time. “Just sell your guitar”, you say. “No fuckin’ way man. This guitar is my life, my outlet to the world”, he says.
Upset about the loss, or about Johnny dancing with Jenny to your favorite deadmau5 song?
Johnny, Jimmy, and Joey.
You’ve got your Middle-of-the-line scumbag locals.
This guy might watch at a bar, outside, through a window.
Still can’t tell if these chicks are wearing boobie holsters or body paint, but you know they’ll bring flare to the franchise. They might even make the cut for the cheerleader squad. Keep em in mind.
The girl from the club tub. She’ll come through… for sure. Maybe even have her own spot in the stadium next to the caged tigers.
And finally, little Carson. He grew up without a local team in a small rural town. He needed someone to root for, a community to put his heart into. In 2017, he finally had something to call his own, a fresh start, a fresh franchise. His devotion to the town of Las Vegas and its football team led him to Sin City, where he ended up living in a small studio, cracking at the seems… empty beer cans, empty baggies, and empty dreams on the floor. Poor Carson never had a chance.