So I was at the Colliseum Sunday, trying to enjoy the early workings of what was to become a great game, when my Sunday ended. I didn't see any points scored, let alone anything exciting before the moment stood before me. It made me miss a game I had been waiting on, to which I brought 12 people along with me to witness a change in the Raiders' ways.

It was during my hike down to the concession stand for the third time, to grab another Bud Light. At this point in time there was still 12:37 seconds in the first quarter, a moment I wish I could take back.

A Chiefs fan seemed to be a little out of control, as was I, and he shoved me as I was trying to make my way down the stairs. Instantly I flipped my switch and began rushing towards the maniac that tried to kill me, but then stopped, knowing that I would be kicked out of the stadium, and forced to miss this pivotal game.

No more than five minutes later, the E.M.T's that work at the stadium, were asking me questions about whether or not I was Diabetic. I was dumfounded as to what had just happened. The Medics were taking me into a room with no televisions, by wheelchair.

"Have you been drinking?" asked the young female who was part of the response team.

"Yeah a little bit," I responded briskly.

"Can you tell us what you were drinking," She asked in a collected calmness.

"Um.. I started the tailgate with about a half a bottle of hennessey, followed by a Coor's Light, then I had half a 32 oz Corona, and finished all of that with two tall Bud Lights," Immediately after I mentioned this she handed me a cold cup of water.

"I don't need anymore water, I need to see the game," I slurred, as I tossed the cup aside.

Within twenty minutes they had called security and asked them to take care of me, eventhough my brother and two friends were trying to assist me in getting back to my seats.

I was then Harrassed by an Officer, who told me to calm down and explain to him what was going on.

"I threw up on the ground, because I couldn't quite make it to the restroom," I explained as a dignified drunk.

"Well my understanding is that you are creating a scene everywhere you go," the Officer replied as if he had been told that by someone who is trustworthy.

"That sounds like hearsay to me sir," I stated, "I am trying to tell you I am fine, I just needed to get that gross taste out of my mouth, and everyone is treating me like I am dying."

"Well why don't you come with me," the Young Authority asked.

"The hell I will, I need to get back to the game, I am sorry for any misunderstanding but I am okay to go back to my seat."

That is when I was grabbed, and asked to leave. The game was still scoreless, and now I am furiated because, I was in a decent enough shape to watch the rest of the game.

"Do you want me to place you under arrest," Asked Officer Tippwell.

"No I would like to watch the game, just let me be," I snapped back, then I quickly turned to walk back to my seat.

Just then the Officer grabbed me by both arms and basically carried me out of the stadium, and forced me into the public atmosphere.

They told my Brother that they would let me go as long as he got me away from the stadium. So we were walking back to bart, but I had a few words for the cops that stripped me of my passion, and threw me out to make a point.

"F--- the Oakland P.D."
"You oinks are all the same"

I guess in public you don't really have freedom of speech. Because the Bart police arrested me for using obscene Language in Public, due to complaints. Since when has it been illegal to say F--- the Police?

I was thrown into the drunk tank at the BART station to sober up. They told my brother that they would let me out in about four hours. Keep in mind this is at two o'clock in the afternoon. They for some reason transferred me to the Downtown Station at about three. At this point I was starting to get furious. The Alameda County Sheriff's had my hands chained to my Stomach, as well as my feet cuffed together. This scenario makes it impossible to use the phone in the cell because it was out of reach.

They brought me to the padded cell, because I was a "danger to myself," supposedly. Sometime around four-thirty, the Alcohol began to wear off, to my displeasure this is about the time I noticed both my hand-cuffs, and the cuffs around my ankles were way too tight. I tried to ask one of the Deputies if they could loosen the cuffs, after five walked by, and refused to even acknowledge that I was pleading for some courtesy, I began screaming, "Will someone please fuckin help me out here."

My feet started turning cold, so I kept screaming for some help. I then realized that my hand was swollen, and it felt like I had a fractured bone somewhere in this hand. So I began aking if the Nurse on staff could come see my hand. But still, the "Authority" just walked by smiling.

"Please, I am in an extreme amount of pain, will somebody please loosen these cuffs," I yelled, which definately echoed through the whole floor.

Finally a Deputy approached and asked why I was screaming, and I told him my hand seems to be broken, and I need these cuffs to be loosened.

"Quit crying about your hand, I am not calling the Nurse," exclaimed the guard.

This is where It all came to me, the only reason I was being treated this way was for what I said, probably the only reason I got arrested. Around five-thirty, they came and uncuffed me. My ankles hat cuts, and both wrists were quite significantly swollen. After I was finger printed and booked, they tossed me into a cell with people in it. They all looked at me like I was a Murderer.

"Don't come over here lil' Russell, we know your type," cried a man, who would later be identified as Jeffery, "We saw you walkin the mile lookin like Hannibal Lectre."

"Hey dawg, whats wrong with yo fo' head?" asked a youngster.

I reached up to touch my head, and there was a knot in my forehead about the size of a golfball. I remembered when I got to the drunk cell at BART, while I was hogtied I was tossed to the cement, and with nothing to catch my fall... SLAP!

Once the clock hit Midnight, Jeffery and I were starting to get upset, "When are we going to be released?" We would ask. They kept telling us the same bullshit, "I don't know!" with a smirk on their face. He was in serious pain because he had just got done with a spinal surgery, and for me, I was battered and bruised. So we both kept asking for the Nurse.
"Man these faggots just walk by as you are talkin to them, they be actin like we retarded an shit," raved Jeffery from the doorway.
"I know," I said, "and it is really starting to piss me off."
Around four-thirty in the morning, the Deputy that fingerprinted me came by to bring us our balogne sandwhich for breakfast.
"By any chance can you let us know how much longer we are going to be in here," begged Jeff.

"Well have you been fingerprinted and booked yet?" asked the officer.

"Yeah hella hours ago man."

"Well than you two should be in the release tank, why are you still in here."
At this point I was about to start a Riot, but the fact was I was almost out. The Deputy brought us both to the release tank, where we would await our dismissal. When my name was finally called, I was filled with joy, but was unable to smile. I walked out of the station at 6:30 A.M. after being detained for fifteen hours, for a drunk in Public Citation.

All I know is either the laws have changed, or there are to many God Damn Raider Haters who happen to wear a uniform.

One last time, "Fu-k the Oakland P.D.!"