I don’t even pretend to pretend to have any respect for the Tennessee Titans or their fans (aside from Dynamic Dreadlocks). Let’s not bury the lede and get down to business.
Bud Adams was a small man with a huge ego, and anything that threatened his perceived great greatness was to be severely punished. In essence, that was his relationship with my beloved O.A. “Bum” Phillips. For years, Houston Oilers fans booed lustily at the sight of Beelzebud, but Bum was beloved by the fan base in all corners. That was the beginning of the end for the Houston Oilers in Houston. The fan base and city would never forgive Beelzebud for his handling of Bum, and his blackmail threats over moving the team were either calculated trolling or outright hatred.
Why, bfd, do you so arrogantly skip the first 20 years of what Bud Adams did for Houston? Because I can, that’s why. But, honestly, for as long as I can remember, the fan base despised Bud. My dad would always say that Bud would sell his mother if the price was right. When Bud made appearances, fans would yell “***k you” at him incessantly.
I won’t even get into the family stories about Bud and his business dealings. Hearsay is a kind of evidence, but family members hated Beelzebud on a personal and visceral level.
When the Oilers were stolen from Houston in a way that best resembles kidnapping, it was almost a relief. Houston no longer had to deal with a man who treated his own fan base like a diaper. We hated to lose the team, of course, but this was a chance to rid ourselves of a giant douchebag of an owner.
The ultimate insult, of course, was when the NFL allowed the Flaming Thumbtacks to take the history of the Houston Oilers with them. No. Eff that. The Oilers are still ours. Earl Campbell and Elvin Bethea and George Blanda and Curley Culp and Robert Brazile never played a single NFL game in that awful state. They played at Jeppesen Stadium and the Astrodome, not in front of a bunch of sister banging, baby eating meth addicts.
Bud Adams was a small, selfish, greedy, megalomaniacal man who could never, ever earn the one thing he yearned for above all: respect.
And that, dear readers, is why I hate Bud Adams, the BE-SFs of Methoptamia, and their entire fan base of “life long” fans with a heat and intensity that would make the sun jealous.