A New Test For an Old Raider
Monte Burke 09.18.06
Al Davis created the most successful brand in football by plying maverick methods and embracing an outlaw credo. Today he is better known for suing his fellow NFL owners.
Al Davis, owner of the Oakland Raiders, approached the lectern at the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio last month in his trademark black suit and silver tie, his slicked-back black hair fully silver at the temples. He was there to induct John Madden, the former head coach and famed NFL analyst as the seventeenth "Raidah," as Davis put it in his Brooklyn accent, to grab football's highest honor, including the owner himself.
In his speech, Davis proudly recalled his club's storied history, like an aged and frail general basking in battles won long ago and unaware of the sad state of his army. For the NFL the moment was both fitting and awkward. Davis is 77 years old now, and he has spent more than half his life--43 years--running the Raiders, building the team into one of the richest franchises in football and creating one of the first antihero, unabashedly outlaw brands. He outfitted his team in black and silver. He signed players with renegade attitudes and nicknames straight out of pro wrestling: Ken (the Snake) Stabler, Jack (the Assassin) Tatum, Ted (the Mad Stork) Hendricks. Raider Nation, a motley band of fans, attended games in black face paint, black cloaks and shoulder spikes. The Raiders consistently led the league in merchandise sales. Oakland street gangs wore Raider jerseys.
And Davis personified his kick-ass team, sporting black sunglasses and the slick black hair and coining phrases like "Commitment to Excellence" and "Just win, baby." From 1963 to 1992 the Raiders posted a 285--146--11 record, the best in all major professional sports. Along the way his teams won three Super Bowls, the last one a generation ago, in 1986. "Davis was the first to realize the importance of branding, that the players are what drove fan attachment," says Marc Ganis, president of Sportscorp, which tracks team valuations.
But in recent years the traits--his maverick style and combative fearlessness--that made Davis one of the great visionaries in the National Football League have withered into a crotchety contrariness, hurting the value and profits of his beloved team and giving fits to his fellow owners in the NFL. Like an entrepreneur who refuses to hand over his creation to professional managers, Davis has clung to total control and failed to groom a true successor; instead he spends much of his time in litigation with the league
"Darth Vader is a punk compared to Al Davis," the late writer Hunter S. Thompson once said. Sportscorp's Ganis adds: "His off-the-field disputes have required so much of his attention that the Raiders have missed out on the recent great rise in NFL franchise value." FORBES pegs the Raiders' worth at $736 million this year, 22% below the league average of almost $900 million. In the nine years that FORBES has calculated team valuations, the Raiders' cumulative operating income ($116 million) is 42% below the NFL average of $200 million.
One of Davis' bitterest fights, now under way before the highest court in California, may also be one of his last. He rankled the NFL years ago by arbitrarily moving the Raiders from Oakland to Los Angeles in 1982, winning court rulings that said the NFL couldn't stop him--then abandoning Los Angeles and moving back to Oakland in 1995. Thus Los Angeles, the second-largest market in the U.S., has been without an NFL team for a decade. If the new commissioner of the NFL, Roger Goodell, can create a team in Tinseltown, his bosses--the owners--could share in a windfall of $800 million or more.
Yet Al Davis insists that he, not the NFL, holds the rights to the city he abandoned so long ago. He has filed suit asserting so, losing at trial. His first appeal was thrown out, and now Davis is pressing his case before the California Supreme Court. "Al is one of the most important people in terms of growth and building the league," says Lamar Hunt, owner of the Kansas City Chiefs. "But no one likes to be sued all the time by their partners. You like to think we're working together to make the league better. What he does is counterproductive. But that just seems to be his personality." Davis declined to be interviewed for this story.
The Brooklyn-bred Davis was an English major at Syracuse University. He had never played a down of pro football, yet he was enthralled by the game. In 1960 he got his first job in the pros as the offensive coach for the Chargers of the old American Football League (then in Los Angeles and since 1961 in San Diego). Three years later Oakland Raiders co-owners Edward McGah and Wayne Valley hired Davis as head coach; he was only 33 years old. The moribund franchise had a record of 9 wins and 33 losses in three years of existence in the AFL. The owners handed full control to Davis, who repaid them with a 10--4 season in his first year.
In 1966 he left the Raiders to run the AFL, then deep in its antitrust battle against the older, more established NFL. Davis aggressively raided the NFL talent pool, signing top players to exorbitant contracts. His gambit helped force an agreement that year to merge the two leagues, creating the modern NFL. Davis returned to the Raiders, intent on becoming an owner. He signed on as general manager and received a 10% stake for the bargain price of $18,000. Then, in 1972, he made his big move. While Valley, the more powerful of the two owners, was away at the Munich Olympics, Davis persuaded McGah to sign a contract that gave Davis complete control, though not ownership, of the team, according to Michael Valley, the late Wayne's son. Enraged, Valley sued Davis and lost. In 1976 Valley sold his 15% chunk to Davis, who later upped his share to a current 54%.
cont'd..