October 12, 1980

The Oakland Raiders were one of the signature franchises of the NFL in the 1970s, triumphing not only on the field with one championship and more regular season wins than any other team in the decade, but in the popular imagination as well. Like no other team before or since, the Oakland Raiders embodied an attitude, a worldview, the only thing in sports close to an artistic statement. To be a Raider meant to play with swagger and arrogance, individuality, flair, and a certain amount of contempt for the rules. It was most succinctly put by team owner Al Davis, who started as a coach in the 60s and made it to the owner’s box through scheme and muscle: “The dominant philosophy in the NFL is to take what the defense gives you. The Raider philosophy is to take what we want.”

But as a new decade started, there were creaks in the Raider machine. Coach John Madden took an early retirement after 1978 with a peptic ulcer condition. That same offseason, mercurial quarterback Kenny Stabler took the outlaw thing a little too far, trying to frame a sportswriter he didn’t like for cocaine possession. After missing the playoffs for the second year in a row, a first for the Raiders in the Super Bowl era, Stabler was traded to Houston straight up for Dan Pastorini. And to top off the tribulations, Al Davis announced he was moving the team to Los Angeles and the newly vacated Los Angeles Coliseum. When commissioner Pete Rozelle told Davis that he might not get the vote he wanted from the other owners in the league, Davis said he did not intend to take the matter up with the other voters, he would just leave. After all, the Raider Philosophy is to take what you want.

If Al Davis could have taken anything in the league, it may have been the offensive mind of Don Coryell, coach of the San Diego Chargers. Davis was always a fan of vertical passing and taking shots downfield, and Coryell was revolutionizing the passing attack in ways that are still felt today. In fact, if you gave Coryell a modern playbook he would still recognize most of it, if only because he is the man who came up with the numerical notation for receiver routes. Every route can be expressed as a number between one and nine, with ones being shallow and nines being straight down the field. The order of the three numbers then tells the quarterback his progression: who he should look at first, and then who to check to if the primary route is covered.

But Coryell’s innovations were not strictly taxonomic: they were shockingly effective off the chalkboard and on the field. Coryell used pre-snap motion to create confusion in the defense with an illusory complexity. He demanded running backs like John Cappelletti and Chuck Muncie be equally ready to contribute in the passing game as in the running game, and in his tight end Kellen Winslow, he had his queen on the chessboard. The greatest pass-catching tight end the league had seen up to that point, Winslow could line up anywhere in the formation and demand attention, sometimes flexed away from the line entirely, and pull defenders away from John Jefferson or Charlie Joiner at the wide receiving spots. With this versatility and depth, the Chargers guaranteed there would always be a mismatch, and quarterback Dan Fouts almost always found it. The Chargers led the league in passing yards for six straight years, starting in 1978 when Coryell took the job. Fouts became the first quarterback since Joe Namath to hit the 4,000-yard mark in 1979, and would surpass his own record in 1980. The Chargers made the playoffs for the first time since 1965 in Coryell’s first year, were back the next year, and started the year 4-1 as they faced division rival Oakland, who sat at 2-3.

That 2-3 record loomed large; 1980 was shaping up to be an unprecedented year of struggle for the Raiders. With the move and its attendant lawsuits in the newspapers, ticket sales dropped and the fans that did remain indulged in a kind of freeform hostility. When Dan Pastorini’s leg was broken in a sack against the Kansas City Chiefs, the crowd cheered. His replacement was Jim Plunkett, a former number one pick and 1970 Heisman Trophy winner who, despite that pedigree, had thrown only fifteen passes in the last two years. A washout with the Patriots and with the 49ers, who cut him less than two years after trading three draft picks for him, Plunkett signed with the Raiders in 1978 and focused only on getting his mind right and his mechanics fixed. He knew that if he ever had to be in a game, he wouldn’t be running for his life, like he was in New England and San Francisco.

The Chargers had already seen Plunkett in 1980; in the week two matchup between the two teams, he had come in briefly for a dinged Pastorini and thrown the touchdown that forced overtime. The Chargers had won then, and were feeling confident facing the presumably rusty Plunkett, making his first start in three years. But it was not as simple as that. Plunkett saw in action the blocking that made Oakland an ideal destination when he ran for a key scramble and receiver Cliff Branch cut his man in the open field. On the very next drive, Kenny King took a handoff on a sweep 31 yards untouched to open the scoring on the day. Fouts threw an interception to Montee Jackson on the next drive, but Plunkett, still looking very twitchy in the pocket, scrambled and was sacked on a third and short, unable to take advantage of the turnover. Fouts was able to right the ship on a long drive, hitting two bombs to John Jefferson and setting up a simple run for John Cappelletti to tie the game, but fumbled away the next drive, losing the ball on a hit from Willie Davis.

The second quarter started with an exchange of field goals. Plunkett was still playing conservatively, inching the ball down the field, whereas Fouts was sending it deep whenever possible. But it was increasingly harder, as Fouts was sacked again by Willie Davis to end a drive. Taking over around midfield, Plunkett finally ditched the safe underneath routes and corked one to the quintessential deep threat Cliff Branch for a 43-yard score, letting the Raiders take the lead into the half.

The Chargers would have liked to win this game; the Raiders were desperate to win. That may have been the difference. Plunkett took a forearm shiver to the head on the first drive of the second half that was bad enough to draw a penalty in 1980, but this is long before the modern concussion protocol or the medical tent. The trainer gave him smelling salts and he was back in before the drive was over, surviving pressure again to find Bob Chandler open inside the ten. Being hurt and surviving with only surface damage does wonders for a man’s sense of daring. Mark Van Eeghen soon capped the long drive with a three-yard touchdown to make it 24-10.

The Chargers needed a rally, and the Chargers found it quickly. On the very next drive, Fouts hit John Jefferson down the left sideline, and then found him again in the end zone with a beautiful arcing ball that the NBC cameraman lost in the air. When the Raiders fumbled away the kickoff, giving the Chargers the ball again immediately, it looked as though their two-score lead would disappear like vapor. Linebacker Ted Hendricks plastered John Cappelletti to force a fumble and keep the lead, but this was delaying something that already felt inevitable. Big plays by Winslow and Chuck Muncie and an obligatory face mask penalty on Raider and Goonie John Matuzak made it possible for Fouts to sneak it in from the one. But just as quickly as the Raiders’ fourteen-point advantage disappeared, it reappeared. Kenny King ran for an 89 yard touchdown, the longest running play in the entire 1980 season, and then reserve tight end Todd Christensen recovered a bungled kickoff in the end zone for the first and easiest touchdown of his career. Any hope of a comeback was stopped when Ted Hendricks forced another fumble, yanking Fouts’ arm mid-windup.

Nobody ever stopped Air Coryell, they just survived it. The Raiders survived for a salvatory win despite Dan Fouts throwing for almost three times as many yards as Jim Plunkett did, but Plunkett did what he was asked to, never turning the ball over, whereas Fouts had two fumbles and two picks. The legendary Oakland offensive line did what they promised, keeping Plunkett mostly upright and letting his confidence and rhythm establish itself. After a rocky beginning to the season, the 1980 Raiders would stiffen up and claim the Super Bowl, after surviving the Chargers one more time in the AFC Championship game. Over forty years later, nothing about the Chargers’ unrelenting passing attack is unique, and nobody has ever successfully imitated the spirit of the Raiders. Both these things are a kind of victory.

Header photo courtesy of NFL and YouTube