RAMSEY: Raiders Nation is now the land of the lost

In the good old days, when the Oakland Raiders roamed our nation as a mighty NFL franchise, one of the great pleasures of living in Colorado was hating everything about these mangy marauders.

This cruel, bloodthirsty, repulsive gang once dominated the nightmares of Broncos fans.

Eat your peas, Colorado mothers warned their children, or the Raiders will snatch you.

The Raiders now reside in the NFL's gutter, winners only 21 times in their past 90 games. Pity has replaced hate, and that's the problem.

Pity is no fun.

It's time - it's past time - to offer aid to Raider Nation.

Raider Nation resembles Germany after World War II. It's in ruins with a once-proud people left devastated.

After WWII, Americans helped the Germans with the massive, ambitious Berlin Airlift. We delivered, at great risk, aid to our former enemies by dropping tons of food and clothes.

It's time to try a football version of the airlift. Broncos fans should organize an air drop to Raider Nation. Compassion demands it.
Fans could start by transporting two or three real offensive playbooks to Oakland. It's obvious the Raiders offense, averaging 13 points, improvises on every play, winging it in the tradition of backyard touch football games.

After the playbook drop, a few bright, innovative coaches could parachute into Oakland. I'd start with Joe Collier, the former Broncos defensive coordinator still blessed with square shoulders and a probing mind.

Collier, who lives in suburban Denver, constructed The Orange Crush, the 1977 Broncos defense that ranks among the finest in NFL history. I'm sure he could be persuaded to serve in the name of the greater football good.

Most important, of course, is the forced removal of Raiders dictator Al Davis. This overthrow must be carried out with gentleness. Davis is a frail man, far past his prime.

It's getting hard to remember - and hard to believe - he once strutted the Raiders sideline as the ultimate football rebel.

He was strange, sure, and it's too bad no one told him greasy ducktail hairdos went out of style in 1961, but he was undeniably brilliant. He led the Raiders to five Super Bowls.

It's beyond sad to watch Davis shred his own legacy. He destroys, with every illogical decision, the team he constructed. He signed receiver Javon Walker. He drafted quarterback JaMarcus Russell.

You can't count on much in life. You can count on Davis making the wrong move.

These are weird days in Raider Nation. Before the opener this season, I stayed in a hotel a few blocks from Oakland Coliseum. (It never will be McAfee Coliseum for me.)

Hundreds of Raiders fans resided in nearby hotels. Raider Nation was full of hope, a fresh season beckoning, and true believers partied with impressive gusto.

At 3 a.m. on the day of the Broncos-Raiders game, I was awakened by a dozen or so drunken fans who shouted "Raiders" at the limits of their lungs while celebrating the team's glorious past.

The present soon ended this big party.

That night, the Broncos destroyed the Raiders, and the next morning at the hotel breakfast bar I watched a dozen members of Raider nation gloomily picking at their waffles.

They couldn't believe their Raiders were, once again, weaklings.

Broncos fans need their arch-enemy to revive. It's excruciating to watch the Raiders flopping around like a fish that's about to die.

Imagine if Batman awoke one morning to discover The Joker had retired from crime and found work behind the counter at Burger King.

Batman requires a thriving, thoroughly evil Joker. The Broncos need the Evil Empire of the West to revive.

The Raiders stagger along as the NFL's weakest, goofiest franchise.

And that drains all the fun from hating them.