Post by TheShadow on Nov 29, 2003 19:59:09 GMT -5
www.oaklandtribune.com
For Darth Raider and his Black Hole friends, passion for the home team is a
rite of passage
By Mike Martinez - STAFF WRITER
Members of the Raider Nation are as committed to their team as "Deadheads"
were to the legendary Grateful Dead rock band.
Some follow the team as though it were on tour, lining up at the gates of
the Oakland Coliseum Complex, restocking supplies, hunkered down until the
next kickoff.
They snarl at the opposition and may even injure themselves in the euphoria
of a touchdown celebration.
This passion for the Silver and Black is passed down through the ages like a
rite of passage. Whether the kids liked it or not -- they watched football.
It's a calling as serious as Sunday school, some say, and it just so happens
to happen on Sundays. "Study, study, study, and learn from me," could well
be the admonishment uttered by a master Raiders fan as he passes spiked
shoulder pads to a young padawan learner.
A good many will be wearing Silver-and-Black paint on their faces, beads
around their necks, and hearts on their spiked shoulder pads.
But a good many more will be simply wearing Raiders jackets, T-shirts and
caps. In other words, they'll look pretty much like, well, regular fans,
just louder.
First, meet some of the extreme fans, the ones whose battle faces always get
captured on television, giving the nation a somewhat skewed image of the
typical Raider disciple.
There's Charles Ybarra of Fremont, proud member of the Visa Hall of Fans.
Actually, that was his alter ego who was inducted, Darth Raider.
Ybarra, the one you've no doubt seen all decked out in a Darth Vader mask,
all-black costume and shiny light saber, will be featured at an exhibit at
the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.
Ybarra said his father, an Oakland native, was the Emperor Palpatine who
turned him and his siblings on to the Raider Nation.
"If we were anything other than Raider fans, he would of kicked us out of
the house," Ybarra said.
About the time Star Wars first came out a long long time ago, Ybarra saw a
man walk around the Oakland Coliseum as Darth Raider. That image stuck in
his head, and when the Raiders returned to Oakland in 1995, Ybarra decided
to revive the Darth Raider persona.
"One day, I was shaking people's hands and this guy pulls me towards him and
we got into a conversation," Ybarra said. "He was the original Darth Raider.
He said he was too old and that I was doing a good job. It was crazy. He
talked about giving me his light saber, but never did. I haven't seen him
there in a long time."
The less extreme
Now meet one of the slightly less extreme -- but just as loyal -- Raider
fans.
Jan Vaccaro, a member of the Original Los Angeles Booster Club, drove up
here Friday in her Silver-and-Black 2000 Honda. It has tire covers with the
Raiders logo, and her license plate reads "RDRJAN."
"When we first started going to games in Oakland, the fans were still
p...... because the Raiders had just come back," Vaccaro said. "If you said
you were from L.A., you were in trouble."
Her booster club swelled to 450 members after the team arrived in Southern
California. When the Raiders returned to Oakland in 1995, Vaccaro said she
was sad but didn't hold a grudge.
"We have booster clubs in Pennsylvania, Florida and all over the world.
They've never had the team," Vaccaro said. "I'll follow the Raiders no
matter where they are. I liked it when they were in LA, it was a lot less
expensive to get to a game. But whatever it takes, I will be there."
The wary
Then there is the wary Raiders fans.
Scott Kemps of San Lorenzo says he's "forced" to be a fan because he lives
in Alameda County and wants the team to do well so he doesn't have to pay
the $30 million in bonds floated to lure the team back to Oakland.
"It's hard to be a good solid fan when you're trying to be socially
responsible," Kemps said. "It seems to be falling into place this season.
The nice part is, the more fans that go to see the game, Alameda County
doesn't have to pay as much."
Kemps said he doesn't have any PSLs and hasn't been to a Raiders game since
the team returned. It's the legend of the Raiders fan that keeps him and his
6-year-old son away.
"I don't feel safe going there, even though I wouldn't be ... for the other
team. The Black Hole looks like a lot of fun, but I don't know. You get down
there and they might see you're not a true Raider fan and you might never
come out."
The Black Hole -- Section 105 of the Network Associates Coliseum -- and
Section D of the parking lot have come to symbolize everything wrong with
Raiders fans, some people like Kemps say. They're rowdy. They're drunk.
They're uncontrollable.
The defense
Mike, who declines to give his last name because his nickname is "Stoner
Dude," co-hosts an Internet Raiders radio show from the second holiest
shrine in the Raider Nation -- Ricky's Bar and Grill in San Leandro.
Dude said Raiders fans get their over-the-edge image from the team's days in
Los Angeles, when it played at a stadium in one of the roughest parts of the
city attended, where many who watched were local gangbangers. He said
reports of beatings, stabbings and violence at the games followed the team
back to Oakland.
"I think the Oakland Raider fans are more dedicated and passionate about how
they express themselves on the field," Dude said. "They're willing to make
their crazy costume, and painting themselves up."
Dude also plays drums for a Raiders cover band, Raiderhed, mostly songs from
Metallica, Jimi Hendrix and Ozzy Osborne, with a Raiders twist.
(Think "Crazy Train") "Crazy, but that's how it goes/millions of people in
Raider clothes/Maybe it's not too late to purchase a ticket/and get in the
gate/Raider fans are screaming/you're in the house of pain/they're going off
therails/at the Raiders game."
Rob Rivera, president of The Black Hole (yes, a group that dispenses chaos
has a hierarchy) said there are a lot of misconceptions about Raiders fans,
and especially about The Black Hole. Many people aren't aware there are 14
chapters of The Black Hole worldwide, with more than 30 expected to pop up
before the next season.
They also don't know about The Black Hole's food drives, clothes drives and
toy drives, which directly benefit Oakland's Mother Wright Foundation. This
year, The Black Hole sucked in enough toys, clothes and food to fill a large
moving van.
"If people want to think we're throwing chicken bones and batteries and
everything else, let them," Rivera said. "Let them think we are vicious,
vile, dirty human beings. As long as we know and fellow Raider fans know
what we're about, that's all we care about."
Rivera said he was born a Raiders fan.
"I didn't have a chance," he said. "My dad was and is a die-hard Raider fan.
With his extremely high blood pressure, extremely dangerous level of
cholesterol, and diabetes, he still lives and bleeds Silver and Black.
"He used to sit me down in front of the television and watch games. I was
seven and I wanted to go outside and play with my Army men, or whatever, but
Pops would make me watch Raider football."
It's something Rivera does with his young son now, a sort of passing of the
shield.
"I would be mad at (my father) as a kid, but I thank him now," Rivera said.
"There is nothing I enjoy more than Raiders football with my family."
Steve Dominguez, who works for Cisco Systems, helped co-found The Black
Hole, which requires wanna-be members to prove their Raiders faithfulness.
Dominguez admits he once hurt his knee after celebrating a touchdown.
"It becomes somewhat of a mosh pit," acknowledged Dominguez, who lives in
Antioch. "I scoot over three or four seats every time they score now."
"To me, its not a bad place to take your kids," Dominguez said. "I see no
reason why not. We razz the visiting fans on occasion and you see a fight
break out, but that happens at any stadium. I've seen New Orleans fans fight
New Orleans fans. It's anywhere you go."
Like Rivera, Dominguez was born into the Raider Nation. His father and
grandfather each had season tickets and would bring the young Rivera along
when someone couldn't make it.
He said there are a lot of great memories, beginning in those days when as a
kid he used to run around the parking lot playing football. He has pictures
of himself going to school wearing his Raiders gear before it became the
fashion. Today, his daughter is the same way.
Joe Audelo of Alameda has 10 PSLs, including six in the Black Hole. Audelo
doesn't sit there on a regular basis, they're mostly for friends and family
who "want to get rowdy."
"I think the crowd has changed, even since the team has been back," Audelo
said. "It's more fun. It's definitely more fun than when it was in LA. Not
quite as rowdy in a negative way, as people would think, but the fans are
definitely into the game.
Audelo said he tailgates with a group who waited in line for last Sunday's
game for three days. When the game was over, they got in line for today's
game.
"Those are Raider fans," he said. "It's almost like a cult. The fans like
that have been there even when the Raiders haven't had their best season."
For Darth Raider and his Black Hole friends, passion for the home team is a
rite of passage
By Mike Martinez - STAFF WRITER
Members of the Raider Nation are as committed to their team as "Deadheads"
were to the legendary Grateful Dead rock band.
Some follow the team as though it were on tour, lining up at the gates of
the Oakland Coliseum Complex, restocking supplies, hunkered down until the
next kickoff.
They snarl at the opposition and may even injure themselves in the euphoria
of a touchdown celebration.
This passion for the Silver and Black is passed down through the ages like a
rite of passage. Whether the kids liked it or not -- they watched football.
It's a calling as serious as Sunday school, some say, and it just so happens
to happen on Sundays. "Study, study, study, and learn from me," could well
be the admonishment uttered by a master Raiders fan as he passes spiked
shoulder pads to a young padawan learner.
A good many will be wearing Silver-and-Black paint on their faces, beads
around their necks, and hearts on their spiked shoulder pads.
But a good many more will be simply wearing Raiders jackets, T-shirts and
caps. In other words, they'll look pretty much like, well, regular fans,
just louder.
First, meet some of the extreme fans, the ones whose battle faces always get
captured on television, giving the nation a somewhat skewed image of the
typical Raider disciple.
There's Charles Ybarra of Fremont, proud member of the Visa Hall of Fans.
Actually, that was his alter ego who was inducted, Darth Raider.
Ybarra, the one you've no doubt seen all decked out in a Darth Vader mask,
all-black costume and shiny light saber, will be featured at an exhibit at
the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.
Ybarra said his father, an Oakland native, was the Emperor Palpatine who
turned him and his siblings on to the Raider Nation.
"If we were anything other than Raider fans, he would of kicked us out of
the house," Ybarra said.
About the time Star Wars first came out a long long time ago, Ybarra saw a
man walk around the Oakland Coliseum as Darth Raider. That image stuck in
his head, and when the Raiders returned to Oakland in 1995, Ybarra decided
to revive the Darth Raider persona.
"One day, I was shaking people's hands and this guy pulls me towards him and
we got into a conversation," Ybarra said. "He was the original Darth Raider.
He said he was too old and that I was doing a good job. It was crazy. He
talked about giving me his light saber, but never did. I haven't seen him
there in a long time."
The less extreme
Now meet one of the slightly less extreme -- but just as loyal -- Raider
fans.
Jan Vaccaro, a member of the Original Los Angeles Booster Club, drove up
here Friday in her Silver-and-Black 2000 Honda. It has tire covers with the
Raiders logo, and her license plate reads "RDRJAN."
"When we first started going to games in Oakland, the fans were still
p...... because the Raiders had just come back," Vaccaro said. "If you said
you were from L.A., you were in trouble."
Her booster club swelled to 450 members after the team arrived in Southern
California. When the Raiders returned to Oakland in 1995, Vaccaro said she
was sad but didn't hold a grudge.
"We have booster clubs in Pennsylvania, Florida and all over the world.
They've never had the team," Vaccaro said. "I'll follow the Raiders no
matter where they are. I liked it when they were in LA, it was a lot less
expensive to get to a game. But whatever it takes, I will be there."
The wary
Then there is the wary Raiders fans.
Scott Kemps of San Lorenzo says he's "forced" to be a fan because he lives
in Alameda County and wants the team to do well so he doesn't have to pay
the $30 million in bonds floated to lure the team back to Oakland.
"It's hard to be a good solid fan when you're trying to be socially
responsible," Kemps said. "It seems to be falling into place this season.
The nice part is, the more fans that go to see the game, Alameda County
doesn't have to pay as much."
Kemps said he doesn't have any PSLs and hasn't been to a Raiders game since
the team returned. It's the legend of the Raiders fan that keeps him and his
6-year-old son away.
"I don't feel safe going there, even though I wouldn't be ... for the other
team. The Black Hole looks like a lot of fun, but I don't know. You get down
there and they might see you're not a true Raider fan and you might never
come out."
The Black Hole -- Section 105 of the Network Associates Coliseum -- and
Section D of the parking lot have come to symbolize everything wrong with
Raiders fans, some people like Kemps say. They're rowdy. They're drunk.
They're uncontrollable.
The defense
Mike, who declines to give his last name because his nickname is "Stoner
Dude," co-hosts an Internet Raiders radio show from the second holiest
shrine in the Raider Nation -- Ricky's Bar and Grill in San Leandro.
Dude said Raiders fans get their over-the-edge image from the team's days in
Los Angeles, when it played at a stadium in one of the roughest parts of the
city attended, where many who watched were local gangbangers. He said
reports of beatings, stabbings and violence at the games followed the team
back to Oakland.
"I think the Oakland Raider fans are more dedicated and passionate about how
they express themselves on the field," Dude said. "They're willing to make
their crazy costume, and painting themselves up."
Dude also plays drums for a Raiders cover band, Raiderhed, mostly songs from
Metallica, Jimi Hendrix and Ozzy Osborne, with a Raiders twist.
(Think "Crazy Train") "Crazy, but that's how it goes/millions of people in
Raider clothes/Maybe it's not too late to purchase a ticket/and get in the
gate/Raider fans are screaming/you're in the house of pain/they're going off
therails/at the Raiders game."
Rob Rivera, president of The Black Hole (yes, a group that dispenses chaos
has a hierarchy) said there are a lot of misconceptions about Raiders fans,
and especially about The Black Hole. Many people aren't aware there are 14
chapters of The Black Hole worldwide, with more than 30 expected to pop up
before the next season.
They also don't know about The Black Hole's food drives, clothes drives and
toy drives, which directly benefit Oakland's Mother Wright Foundation. This
year, The Black Hole sucked in enough toys, clothes and food to fill a large
moving van.
"If people want to think we're throwing chicken bones and batteries and
everything else, let them," Rivera said. "Let them think we are vicious,
vile, dirty human beings. As long as we know and fellow Raider fans know
what we're about, that's all we care about."
Rivera said he was born a Raiders fan.
"I didn't have a chance," he said. "My dad was and is a die-hard Raider fan.
With his extremely high blood pressure, extremely dangerous level of
cholesterol, and diabetes, he still lives and bleeds Silver and Black.
"He used to sit me down in front of the television and watch games. I was
seven and I wanted to go outside and play with my Army men, or whatever, but
Pops would make me watch Raider football."
It's something Rivera does with his young son now, a sort of passing of the
shield.
"I would be mad at (my father) as a kid, but I thank him now," Rivera said.
"There is nothing I enjoy more than Raiders football with my family."
Steve Dominguez, who works for Cisco Systems, helped co-found The Black
Hole, which requires wanna-be members to prove their Raiders faithfulness.
Dominguez admits he once hurt his knee after celebrating a touchdown.
"It becomes somewhat of a mosh pit," acknowledged Dominguez, who lives in
Antioch. "I scoot over three or four seats every time they score now."
"To me, its not a bad place to take your kids," Dominguez said. "I see no
reason why not. We razz the visiting fans on occasion and you see a fight
break out, but that happens at any stadium. I've seen New Orleans fans fight
New Orleans fans. It's anywhere you go."
Like Rivera, Dominguez was born into the Raider Nation. His father and
grandfather each had season tickets and would bring the young Rivera along
when someone couldn't make it.
He said there are a lot of great memories, beginning in those days when as a
kid he used to run around the parking lot playing football. He has pictures
of himself going to school wearing his Raiders gear before it became the
fashion. Today, his daughter is the same way.
Joe Audelo of Alameda has 10 PSLs, including six in the Black Hole. Audelo
doesn't sit there on a regular basis, they're mostly for friends and family
who "want to get rowdy."
"I think the crowd has changed, even since the team has been back," Audelo
said. "It's more fun. It's definitely more fun than when it was in LA. Not
quite as rowdy in a negative way, as people would think, but the fans are
definitely into the game.
Audelo said he tailgates with a group who waited in line for last Sunday's
game for three days. When the game was over, they got in line for today's
game.
"Those are Raider fans," he said. "It's almost like a cult. The fans like
that have been there even when the Raiders haven't had their best season."