Although a Chargers-Raiders marriage has yet to be consummated, or sanctioned by the Supreme Court – or an even higher authority, the NFL owners – what could have been their last tryst in San Diego may have been a predictor of who will wear the pants in the family.

Because if Sunday’s pathetic Chargers effort in a stadium they’re trying to get out of was an indication of what’s to come – be it here or in Carson – we have seen the future, and it is the Raiders.

If Churchill had been here a Chargers fan, he would have repeated his immortal words following Munich: “We have suffered a total and unmitigated defeat.” They caved. They were bullied and took it like wimps.

After Sunday’s collapse, it’s hard to say why Oakland would want to get between the sheets – fiscally or otherwise – with San Diego smelling the way it did. The Chargers, putting together one of the most putrid performances since they first came here from L.A. in 1961, reeked. To the point of getting boat-raced 37-29 by a team that arrived with few credentials and living off an ancient pedigree.


Why would L.A. want these amateurs? Why would Buttonwillow?

Raiders 37, Chargers 29

With quarterback Philip Rivers laboring through his worst game as a professional, the Chargers all but rolled over – or maybe they did. They couldn’t pass. They couldn’t run. They couldn’t do anything when it mattered, which got them down a staggering 37-6, 30-6 at halftime. They couldn’t block. They couldn’t tackle. They couldn’t cover. They didn’t score a touchdown until 12:58 remained in the game.

The final score is a ruse. The Chargers outgaining their rivals 417-412 and out-first-downing them 28-19 is a sham. Rivers throwing for 336 yards is meaningless. It was over early. The Raiders, about as used to big leads as they are public relations, relaxed. Coasted.

“Nothing good happened from the first play on,” Chargers head coach Mike McCoy accurately surmised.


Playing before thousands of their black-shirted (L.A.) fans, the Raiders didn’t punt once through the first 2½ quarters. The Raiders. The Silver and Black are better, but not nearly this good.

It was so bad, outraged angry villagers even blamed team counsel Mark Fabiani for the humiliation, claiming his declaration this week that the team would be filing for relocation to L.A./Carson/Inglewood/La Brea Tar Pits/wherever got into the players’ and coaches’ heads.

Fabiani’s statement was not a revelation. Professionals care about playing and paychecks. Coaches coach. The rare thing here was that Rivers was impossibly bad, inaccurate and not football intelligent after last week’s brilliant effort in Green Bay – and just about every one of his teammates joined him in the terrible room.

The Chargers have trouble winning when Rivers is exceptional, but when he’s this poor, coupled with most everyone else around him stinking it out, you get what we got Sunday. A total blowout, an embarrassment. The Raiders were a juggernaut. The Chargers were naught.


San Diego, again, was not in good health, with tight end Antonio Gates and their two leading tacklers – safety Eric Weddle and linebacker Manti Te’o – out. Starting tailback Melvin Gordon mysteriously sat on the bench until it was 37-6. His battered offensive line was intact. If he was in McCoy’s doghouse, he should have remained there.

But it’s doubtful if their bill of health were clean it would have mattered much. McCoy either didn’t have his kids ready to go outside and play, or they refused to. We will know real soon if he still has control of the locker room, because, at 2-5, their season is over – unless a higher authority who has more important things to do fires down some mighty pity.

“It sucks, to be honest with you,” McCoy said honestly. “That first half is not us – in all three phases … penalties, turnovers, missed opportunities. It’s pathetic. The first half is pathetic.

“I’m the head football coach here. No excuses. It’s on me.”


He’s right. It’s on him. He got his butt handed to him. And you could see it coming early, when Rivers’ second pass was ill-conceived and intercepted.

“The ball’s not round; it doesn’t always bounce where you want it to,” Rivers said after turning in hiss dismal work. “There’s nothing that makes this any better.”

Not even a HAZMAT crew.

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