LaMarre Reminisces About Al Davis
- Tom LaMarre has been a sportswriter and editor for almost 56 years, with the Oakland Tribune, the Los Angeles Times, as a free-lance writer with several publications and now with the Sports Illustrated/RaiderMaven website.
By Tom LaMarre
With my wife, Cheryl, and our son, Brian, I stopped by Chapel of the Chimes Columbarium in Oakland the other day to pay our respects to a deceased friend of mine from high school, and we also visited the crypt of Al Davis—the man who made the Oakland Raiders great.
Brian bought white flowers to place on the crypt because Al loved to wear that color. By the way, Al lies at rest next to rock music legend John Lee Hooker.
When I was covering the Raiders for the Oakland Tribune during the 1970s, Brian and my older son, David, would often come with me to training camp at the El Rancho Motel in Santa Rosa, about 60 miles north of Oakland.
They were with me there one day when Al was not too happy with me because he thought I was being a little too thorough in my reporting for the Tribune.
“I’m trying to make deals and you are writing about players who are going to be cut, and listing all the guys who are in the training room with even minor injuries,” Davis said. “That makes it hard for me to make a trade with any of them.”
When we got back to our room, the boys told Cheryl that they were worried we might get kicked out of training camp because Al was mad at me, but like kids, they quickly forgot about it and went outside to play.
A few minutes later, I heard them laughing and chuckling outside, and opened the door to find them horsing around with Al.
“I just love your boys,” Davis said. “I’m glad you bring them up here.”
David, who is almost three years older than Brian, would spend most of camp with me, while Brian would come up on the weekends with Cheryl.
And David had the run of the property. He could even eat meals on the players side of the cafeteria, which I could not, with pals of his such as Phil Villapiano (his all-time favorite Raider) and Otis Sistrunk.
David also was a talented artist and he would draw pictures of Kenny Stabler and write “Beat the Steelers” (or whomever the Raiders were playing that week) at the bottom of the page, and have me give them to Snake when we boarded the plane for road trips.
One day, I was running around after lunch doing player interviews and lost track of David, which was not an unusual occurrence. But when the afternoon practice was starting and everyone was on the field with no sign of him, I began to get a little concerned.
So I made a search of the likely spots on the hotel property and eventually wound up in the restaurant, where Al had his own private booth with a phone so he could do business while he was eating.
Sitting next to him with a big smile on his face was David, with a piece of pie and a milk shake.
“My friend and I are just having a little afternoon snack,” the Raiders owner said.
Obviously, David was paying attention as he spent most of his time on the practice field watching the linemen, as he eventually grew to 6-foot-2 and 260 pounds and played football at Hart High in Valencia, Calif., Fresno State and the University of Redlands.
When he was a senior at Hart, they switched him from center to guard, so I took him down to the Raiders Headquarters in El Segundo to have Art Shell, who was the line coach at the time, work with him.
“You have better technique than some of my guys,” Art told him.
That season, David helped Hart go 13-1 and win a CIF Southern California championship.
These days, David is a high school history teacher and football coach in Florida, and Brian did the same in the Sunshine State after graduating from University of Central Florida, but now he is back in California looking for a teaching job.
In 1979, I took a job with the Los Angeles Times, so I was there three years later when Davis moved the Raiders to L.A.
One day not long after the Raiders followed us down to Southern California, I took David and Brian, plus David’s pal Jim Householter, out to the Raiders’ training camp in Oxnard.
After practice, we stood outside the locker room and said hello to old friends as they came out the door on the way to lunch.
Pretty soon, Al came flying out the door with a distant look on his face and flew right through the middle of us. He went about 25 yards before spinning around, and coming right back to us.
“Tommy, I had something important on my mind and it didn’t dawn on me that it was you until I got over there, and then it registered,” Al said. “It’s great to see you guys. Come on over to my office.”
Jim’s eyes were wide in amazement as he looked at the memorabilia in Al’s office, but David and Brian had seen it all before. Jim sent me a message recently saying that while he has been a lifelong Rams fan, he has always had a special feeling for the Raiders because of that day.
When we got home that day, Brian burst through the door and blurted out: “Mom, Al Davis offered Dad a job.” And David was right behind him saying: “Yeah, and Dad turned him down.”
The Dallas Cowboys had recently come out with a tabloid weekly newspaper that looked a bit like the Sporting News and it was immensely successful, in part because of centerfold featuring the Cowboy Cheerleader of the Week.
Al wanted Frank Cooney of the San Francisco Examiner and me to produce a similar newspaper for the Raiders, and I discussed it with him, but I figured there was more job security, and money, with the Times so I said thanks, but no thanks.
But I felt honored that he made the offer, and while our dealings around the Raiders always were done professionally, I was proud to call Al Davis my friend.
