My first ever Dolphins experience in Dolphin Stadium (then referred to as Joe Robbie, or The Joe, or The House of Pain) was against the Oakland Raiders. I had caught the Fins in action as a child in the Orange Bowl (referred to as The Place Where You're Standing Way The Hell Too Close To The Other Dude In The Urinals) but this was the first time I'd stepped into the new place. It was going to be a magical time. This was going to be a real NFL experience with a big ass stadium filled with thousands of fans. It was going to be like the Orange Bowl but bigger and without the $5 parking in some old Cuban lady's house and the constant fly overs of commercial (as well as gun-runners and drug dealer) airplanes coming to and from MIA.
But the experienced was ruined. Or, as my buddy Crabtree from the Midwest likes to say, "runed."
The Raiders had Jeff Hostelter at quarterback back then. Remember that guy? How is it that we live in a world where that guy gets to retire with a Super Bowl ring and the Great One gets stuck playing with Aubrey Beavers and Sammy Smith? Fuck and fuck.
Anyway, the experience was almost ruined by this one Raider fan broad who would constantly shout in a drunken stupor, "Come on Hoss!!! Come on Hoss!!!" All. God-damned. Motherloving. Day. "Was she hot?" you may be asking yourself as you read this and sip your mid-morning coffee. And I'd say to you, dear reader: Shit and No. She was as white-trash as they come, complete with pot belly, two chins, unwashed hair -- with highlights -- and jean shorts! I'm not sure if she was actually from Oakland but, if you've ever been to Oakland you'd know, the odds are very well stacked in the favor of a "why yes she was."
The Dolphins were down most of the game and our defense was once again bending over and taking it like a dude at a prostrate exam. So we had to hear more of, "Come on Hoss!!! Come on Hoss!!!"
Of course, in the end, our hero came through. Dan Marino had one of his patented 4th quarter comebacks -- you know, the kind that Brett Favre apparently does every week and even in the off-season, which you obviously know since you have a TV and Internet and therefore have seen ESPN, FOX Sports, Peter King and John Madden. Number 13 led the Fins to sweet victory, silencing the dragon lady and her beer stained Bo Jackson jersey in the process. To cap it off, Hostetler and his 70's porn star mustache threw a pick to seal the game, which of course prompted our whole entire section to shout ... well, you know.
So here we are, many a year later. Raiders at Dolphins. No Marino and no Hoss. Both the Fins and the Raiders suck, Marino's TD record is about to fall, and Zach Thomas may or may not play because his brain is bruised. Meanwhile, Daunte Culpepper returns to Miami to show us just how shitty we'd really be had he stayed (shittier than 0-3? Why yes!) and the Joey Porter Korean Android has shown to have a glitch in its hard drive because now it's going around guaranteeing wins.
It's a strange world, indeed. A world gone mad. A world where Jeff Hostetler wins Super Bowls, Dan Marino gets hosed again, two once proud NFL franchises suck ass and good folks like you and I have to suffer the indignity of it all.
My advice, go watch a movie this Sunday. 3:10 To Yuma was exceptionally awesome.
And ... go fins....
