just cuz its called life dont mean we got all day

in quebec city

the hardest part about working at the xbi aint the bullets

or the poison

or the debilitating damage it does to yr knees

it’s that you cant ever answer honestly when someone cute asks how was your day

secrets, for some, are easy to keep

except when it dawns on you every now and then

this may be the last story you will ever tell.

so why not whisper it in the ear of a pretty girl?

fine, she said, but give me a codename

just in case.

ok then:


al davis, rest in peace

raider nation

when i moved from illinios the day after high school graduation to california i adopted one team

not the dodgers, who i always rooted for in october, usually against the yankees

not the lakers, who had kareem and magic at the time, who i rooted for as they battled boston

not the kings, who had just scored gretzky, and his lovely wife.

and certainly not the angels, the rams, ucla or usc

i only adopted the raiders

the outcasts

the rebels

the dirty men with dirty faces and dirty hands

who worked hard and played hard

and lived with a spirit that mirrored their owner

a man who chose the colors silver and black because he was colorblind

and wanted the world to see his team the way he did.

“and stop giving juice to the Raiders / cuz Al Davis / never paid us” whined N.W.A in Straight Outta Compton

and i love N.W.A but who was the pimp in that scenario, Ice Cube?

the godfather, the legend, the man who even Darth Vader and Hells Angels bow to.

the man who today was ejected from the game of life,

but will remain the spirit of the scariest football franchise ever.

real Raiders never die, they kick down the door from this realm to the next

in a blizzard of yellow flags.