History

Sunday's game was so brutal, it's taken me this long to write about it. My daughter was born just before the season started in 2005. Since she's been alive, the Raiders haven't won a game in their division.

So Sunday afternoon, I went and got her. She's two now, and every time she sees football on TV she says "Yay, RAIDERS!" She has a little Warren Sapp jersey and a smart-looking Raiders sweat suit. So I grab and I tell her, "The Raiders have a chance to beat Denver, something they haven't done since you been alive."

She said "Yaay, RAIDERS!" and Seabass nailed the 52-yarder.

And then came the time-out Shanahanigans, and the subsequent miss, and all of a sudden I felt like one of the douche bag Red Sox fans in the Ken Burns Baseball documentary who woke their kids up in the middle of a school night to witness history, only to see Buckner let the ball dribble between his legs.

Obviously, this loss wasn't that much of a stomach-punch. And I knew, like probably every Raiders fan knew, that the 2nd kick was going to bounce off that upright. There's no way that kick was going in.

But c'mon, Kiff. Please get McCown outta there. He's killing us. It's not like 1998 when Gruden had no choice but to leave Donald Hollas out there to get murdered. You've got a choice. Could Daunte really be that bad?

You've given us some hope. Don't kill it.