That’s Cowboys beat writer Clarence Hill tweeting about how the Double J is ready to throw his support behind the Vegas Raiders. And while Jerry Jones is old and out of his fucking mind, he was essentially the kingmaker behind the Rams’ move. A nutcase who owns the most valuable franchise in pro football is a powerful nutcase indeed. For all of Roger Goodell’s endless chest-puffing, his strings are always readily available for Jones to pull.

Thanks to Jones, the chances of the Raiders actually moving to Nevada just went from zero to .000001%. The city has a legitimate shot now. And while this site has long been dedicated to shitting on owners and pooh-poohing stadium boondoggles, let me state here that I unequivocally support the idea of the Las Vegas Raiders. People, I want this to happen so badly I can taste it. Tastes like a $5 ribeye. Here are some obvious reasons why this should happen:

  1. It’s the perfect alliance of depressing team and depressing city.
  2. Raiders fans are the kind of people who are likely to spend every weekend in Las Vegas anyway. They’re not abandoning the franchise over this. Darth Raider yearns for the chance to wake up hung over in a dumpster outside Cheetahs.
  3. Someone is bound to get fucked over in this process, and if that’s the case, well, the best people to fuck over are Vegas tourists forced to pay a 3% hotel room tax. I’ve been to Vegas. I’ve been a tourist there. No group of people is more deserving of the loss.
  4. The Raiders have always been the NFL’s poseur outlaw franchise. Moving to a town founded by mobsters would only strengthen the delusion.

But above all else, Las Vegas has earned the right to have a pro sports team. Baseball has flirted with Vegas. Hockey has flirted with Vegas. For all that Vegas has given to the sporting world—all the seediness, and parlays, and bros in visors, and Mandalay Bay sports books—it’s time for payback. I’m sick of leagues benefitting from Vegas’ licentiousness while treating it with sniffing disdain. Put the Raiders in Vegas, rip that city off, and watch as they mirror the rest of the town: glamorous from afar … desperate up close. Packed with ugly rich people. They’ll be snorting rails by a crumbling motel pool within a week. The Raiders have always been a piss-poor collection of vagabonds. Mercenaries. They are Nevada in miniature. Las Vegas has waited its whole life for this team. And the Raiders have always belonged here; they just never realized it. It’s time, NFL. It’s time to let them go home. Make the Vegas Raiders happen.