"Hello, uh, Knapp is it? OK, Knapp: You're down by 4, fourth-and-goal, 1:35 on the clock, two time-outs left, slight drizzle. Tick-tock, sonny boy, let's see what you've got."
It's not that we didn't see this coming. Kiffin probably saw it coming Monday afternoon, even as he told reporters he would no longer entertain questions regarding his relationship with Davis.
The seeds of discontent between the two were sown in the immediate aftermath of last season. They grew into big beautiful stink weeds over the summer. People with only a rudimentary knowledge of how professional football organizations operate knew something unusual was coming and that it would most likely arrive during Oakland's bye week.
Firing a coach in midseason? That qualifies as unusual in football, where playbooks and systems are absurdly complex and even a bye week leaves scant time for an orderly transfer of power.
But while it's unusual, it's not unheard of. The 0-4 Rams fired coach Scott Linehan on Monday. But at least they made the move quickly, executed it clinically, and fed their new coach, erstwhile defensive coordinator Jim Haslett, to the media hounds
The Raiders? Even when they do something out of the ordinary, they do it in an out-of-the-ordinary manner. For starters, team sources had Davis on the brink of smoking Kiffin three weeks ago. That's a lot of lame duckery for any coach to endure. The Rams apparently kept their disaffection with their coach in-house until Linehan was out the door.
And letting Kiffin hold his weekly press briefing? That's plain wicked. Or maybe it was wickedly clever. Kiffin's catty remarks to reporters had to have rankled Davis. Sure, why not allow him one last meet-and-greet while his name was being sand-blasted off his parking spot?
Whichever scenario you choose to embrace, it still qualifies as an unconventional way of doing business. And here we return to a discussion that's older than most current NFL stadiums.
Davis is reportedly considering six candidates to replace Kiffin - offensive coordinator Greg Knapp, defensive coordinator Rob Ryan, running backs coach Tom Rathman, receivers coach James Lofton, offensive line coach Tom Cable and advance scout Paul Hackett. All the above have been in pro football long enough, and with the Raiders long enough, to know what they'd be getting into by taking the job. This, you would think, would be a powerful incentive to avoid getting into it at all.
After all, the job comes with suffocating oversight. The pay falls short of stupendous. The professional mortality rate is jaw-dropping - since the Raiders returned to Oakland, their seven head coaches have lasted an average of 30 games (winning an average of 12). Six of the seven were fired. The other was traded.
The team employs no general manager. There is no buffer between the owner's office and the head coach's hovel. Discipline and morale among the players is chronically problematic.
The team's most recent Most Valuable Player, former quarterback Rich Gannon, recently gave Yahoo Sports an unvarnished look behind the silver and black curtain:
"When I played in Kansas City," he said. "I didn't have to worry about guys showing up late for practice or meetings, guys being out drinking until 3 a.m. or missing curfew the night before games. In Kansas City, that stuff didn't happen. In Oakland, it was an everyday occurrence."
For all Al Davis' passion and past glory, the current Raiders simply aren't built to just win, baby. Consider: Three weeks after it was first revealed Davis was intent on firing Kiffin, he's only now getting around to interviewing six prospective candidates who have been on his payroll the whole time.
The mind reels. And on we go.
Contact Gary Peterson at gpeterson@bayareanewsgroup.com.





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