“LOCALS ONLY”
 
Our bright orange sun goes down in the middle of the world’s biggest ocean around this time of year. In summer our sun goes down behind the Santa Monica Mountains, depending on where you are of course. There are so many beaches. From San Pedro through Portuguese Bend past Crystal and Malaga Cove to Ratt Beach through Avenue C, on down to Redondo past Manhattan, Hermosa and Imperial Beach. If you’re a local, you know your beaches and have partaken in events at each one throughout your lifetime growing up in Los Angeles. It is a rite of passage. Imperial Beach is where this story is born many sunsets ago but lets keep going up the coast. Next to Imperial Beach past the Marina sets Venice Beach, the inspiration of this article based on a conversation with some Texans. Venice, the constant boiling pot of Los Angeles energy, people from all over the world congregate to witness the lunacy. Next to Disneyland, Venice Beach is the second most popular tourist destination in California. It is a Venice bar, locals sipping on cold beers while watching that bright orange sunset.  A gorgeous sight bright orange mixed with red over the light blue Pacific Ocean. Some Texans, male and female are rambling about their football teams. The woman is just as loud as the man as they all gaze at the climax going down. Others are all getting more involved because Packers fans and Jets fans are speaking up now, from all corners of the bar at this point. They are talking and some are yelling about which pro football team is better. The sun goes down and the sky illuminates between them ranting about which city has the best pro football team. Football season is ending and they still talk football, women and men as they order shots of whiskey to chase with beer. It’s a joy that Americans just feel, a constant love of football. The girl from Texas and her red curly hair look at me and ask, “so, who is your team?” That’s a trick question to an L.A. native. I’m thinking, it’s actually a long story. Who is my team I thought, there is only one answer the L.A. native can give. I had to tell her. “I don’t have a team, I’m from Los Angeles, The Rams left me and the Raiders were never ours, they belong to Oakland,” I said. Ha! She laughed at me, not with me, because I wasn’t laughing. I looked back at the Pacific and it was black, dark now.  It is the most shameful admittance of humanity that I bare in my life. The nerve to ask me, “so, who is your team?” No pro football team in my city. I remember when the Rams had blue and white helmets, the lack of identity complex, slapped me in the face right there. It gave me a feeling. Think about it, Steelers fans couldn’t fathom not having the Steelers, Broncos fans love their Broncos it’s part of the makeup of their identity as a city. It was the high school bonfires at Imperial Beach coming back to me as the Texan ladies’ southern accent voice faded out. It was back then as we gazed at the sunset behind all the miles of flatland while airplanes fly over our head. It was then, when I first had the thought, it was so obvious. “We should build a football stadium right here, Imperial Beach.” It made sense then and it makes sense now, it’s by the airport, by the beach, plenty of space. Fans could come in from the 405, 105, 91 and 10 freeways and celebrate on the beach before and after the game. A beach that already has four massive parking lots. Sometimes I dream optimistically. Just so I don’t have to answer that question and get that weird stare. “So, who is your team?”  Every time I answer the question, I get the same weird stare, like my answer didn’t register or like they don’t get it, like I said something they could never imagine. I pause and answer the same way all the time. “I’m from Los Angeles, I don’t have a team, no one to root for.” They always laugh, in an effort to make me feel better some say, “well, hey at least you have USC.” USC does 90,000 easy on Saturdays because people just want to see a football game. The NFL has a wrong impression of what the people of Los Angeles really want. We want a football team. In reality, a NFL football team in Los Angeles is paramount, it’s the future and we can’t stop the future. Yet we, the locals wait. The wrong impression comes from the top. Mayor Villaragosa. Did you all know we have a mayoral election coming up next month? The NFL, doesn’t take us serious thanks to our mayor and the schmooze-fest that takes place every time the NFL comes to town. The schmooze-fest along with the popping up, of billionaires. Thrashing any hope for serious negotiations by the Coliseum Commission. There is no reason other than poor leadership as to why we have no professional football team in Los Angeles.  Every time talk comes up about a professional football team in Los Angeles all the billionaires pop-up usurping and entertaining our city leaders and NFL execs. The people who are supposed to be negotiating a deal with the NFL are being pushed to the side. It becomes a fiasco and nothing gets done, no serious negotiations no agreements nothing, just a big schmooze-fest. The NFL comes to town and gets spun around. The people just talk about it. Curly redhead from Texas asked me what I would call them, and where would they play. Smiling now because the conversation was titillating. Having already dreamed about it, thought about it, even named them. I could see it now, the L.A. Marines. They would rock an ugly drab green and black, or not. The stadium would sit on that massive empty plot of land on Imperial Beach. The location is perfect and the parking is already there with those massive beach parking lots. Build a stadium right there by the Airport, you could walk up from the beach into the stadium and there is tons of open land there at Imperial Beach. All that empty land over there, you could light a fire pit before or after the game on the beach. Manhattan Beach to the north and Venice Beach to the south, take your pick after the game. Either way it would be good for the locals.  It must be a brand new franchise and we don’t need a gigantic complex. The stadium only needs to seat eighty thousand no more. The average size of an NFL football stadium is roughly 72 thousand seats per stadium. There is no need for a massive stadium. The Broncos Investco Field seats 76,125, Bears Soldier Field seats 61,500, Patriots only 68,436 and the Colts RCA Dome can handle a mighty 56,127. USC is doing 90,000 on any given Saturday. My thought is interrupted by that Texas drawl again. “Well, you can come on over if you want and be a Texans fan,” she said. Such a nice gesture to invite me to be a fan with her team. “You don’t want to be a Texans fans, come on over and be a Cowboys fan,” said the guy from Texas. I smiled at this point and realized how unbearable this is, that two people from Texas are sitting at bar in California asking me to be on their team. To root for anything from Texas. Then again, it is a new era. Glancing back out at the pacific, hoping that we shall liberate our city, someday. That we too will have a gridiron identity Americana. So, while our city leaders cram us in traffic and overdevelop our great city of Los Angeles leaving us in the end with nothing to root for. We, the locals wait. Looking back out at the pacific there was still light, even though the sun went down.  “LOCALS ONLY” By Leopold Geans