The rally doubles as an autograph session, from the second that Eric Dickerson strolls onto the field at the Oaks Christian School on Monday evening until he leaves, an hour later, having moved only a little more than the length of a football field. Thousands have gathered, packing into the grandstands and lining the spongy track. They’re clad in Rams jerseys and Rams hoodies and Rams socks, bracelets and wrestling masks. They’re wearing rams horns glued onto hardhats, their arms covered in Rams ink.
Parked cars line nearby streets in every direction. Food trucks peddle tacos and pizza. Lines snake from the merchandise trailer. Security guards stand sentry every few feet. It’s a spectacle befitting a Super Bowl in Los Angeles, the first in a long time and the first-ever featuring a local football team. That’s why they’re here, Dickerson included—because the championship tilt will take place on SoFi Stadium on Sunday, and the Rams will partake as the “away” team in their home stadium. Hence the rally. As smoke billows and lights flash, while the cheerleaders dance and highlight packages from the Rams season unspool on two giant screens atop a stage, Dickerson does one thing and only one thing: he signs everything in sight.
This isn’t necessarily what he would choose for an ideal Monday night. But he also understands the fanbase that rooted for him from 1983–87, before the trade, before the move, before the return and before something like a reconciliation—an ongoing process between all parties. Between the star who demanded out and the team that shipped him to “Siberia.” And between the fans spurned and the franchise that spurned them, as they continue to grapple with its return.
