If you can’t beat ’em, Russ, join ’em. Please.
Disclaimer: The usual gang of idiots here at Grading The Week don’t openly root for teams. (Or hate them. That includes you, CU Buffs, fan mail be darned. Honest.) Oh, but they root like heck for stories. Foam fingers waving, baby, full disclosure. Give us juicy. Man, do we root for juicy.
And could there be any juicier subplot in the AFC West this summer than Broncos Country’s fallen angel descending from 5,280 feet and landing where all fallen angels land eventually?
Vegas, baby! VAAAAY-GUSSSSS!
Oh, for Russell Wilson to be a Raider.
The pathos! The catharsis! The spite! The memes!
Yeah, it makes absolutely no sense for the Silver & Black, given how Wilson couldn’t beat Vegas once with the Broncos over two years while the Raiduhs trotted out likes of (checks box scores) Derek Carr and Jimmy Freaking Garoppolo at QB1.
But since when — and we’re talking five or six decades here — has The Autumn Wind Is A Pirate Cult ever subscribed to sense? Or logic? The Raiders’ souls were left shivering in Oakland, where they never should’ve left in the first place. (Chargers, same thing with San Diego. Shame on you.)
Yet its give-no-flips spirit, a history marked by impulsive, rebellious and highly dubious decisions, marries perfectly with Sin City, doesn’t it? The Raiders are the NFL franchise version of a bachelor party that went too far about six Ubers and $7,000 ago.
Russ as a Raider — A
Which only makes the prospect of Wilson, Captain Pious, calling The Strip home even more delicious, at least to our sick minds.
We probably shouldn’t get our hopes up, though. NFL Woj Adam Schefter on Friday only floated the Raiders as a possibility for Big Russ after confirmed meetings with the Steelers (the presumed favorite) and Giants. Smart money still has that No. 3 jersey you need to burn heading out east.
Although, wouldn’t be something if The Team That Can’t Think Straight and the QB Who Can’t See Over His Linemen decided to get quickie-hitched in Nevada?
Broncos-Raiders is already mandatory viewing west of Council Bluffs. But you add “Russ vs. Sean Payton” to spice up the storyline? That’s a national game now, kids. Prime-time from coast to coast.
After the way the last six months played out, it’s hard to imagine which guy would want to beat the other more.
And all sides could get something out of the deal.
The Raiduhs could sign Russ for the league minimum and sit around wallowing in the sadistic joy of watching Greg Penner and Walmart having to pay the freight for their starting QB. (The flip side: having to foot the bill for a signal-caller who could beat you twice a year.)
Broncos Country would get the joy of watching Big Russ get twisted into a pretzel by Baron Browning. And with No. 3 pushing the buttons, fueled by ego and comically pathological self-belief, there might be no better shot for those who bleed orange and blue to watch that ridiculous losing streak to a ridiculous NFL franchise — eight defeats in a row, somebody make it stop — come crashing to a merciful halt.
If you couldn’t beat ’em, Russ, give Denverites the next best thing. Join ’em. Pretty please?