Oakland, Calif. ? Randy Moss was initiated Sunday night. Sure, he’d already played one game as a Raider. But you’re not really a Raider until you put on the home black jersey. Until you step into the Black Hole. Until you become baptized into the Great Silver and Black Conspiracy.

All that happened for Moss against the Kansas City Chiefs. He was welcomed with the deafening roar of the Black Hole, slapped hands with its crazed, cosmetically enhanced denizens. When his name was announced, Moss turned around and pointed his finger at his new best friends before running onto the field.

And he gave them everything their little silver-and-black hearts could hope for. The vertical game they so desire. The conspiracy that fuels their madness. It was all there in one neat package labeled No. 18.

Moss gave them everything. Except, of course, a victory.

Moss was spectacular, doing what he does best. In the third quarter, building off the momentum from a blocked Kansas City field goal, Kerry Collins dropped back to pass on first down. Moss, drawing double coverage as usual, stuck up his right hand. Collins saw it and sent him the ball, and Moss leaped up to catch it between the two defenders and then danced backward into the end zone for a 64-yard touchdown.

“He’s an unbelievable football player,” Collins said. “He’s a game-changer.”

Moss changed the game dramatically at that point. The score was tied 17-17, and the joint was rocking. It was vertical. It was a quick strike. It was Raiders football, baby.

And so was what had happened earlier in the game to Moss. In the second quarter, Moss had an apparent touchdown. Right there in front of the Black Hole. But it was nullified on an offensive-pass-interference call.

Robbed! Jobbed! The officials are out to get the Raiders!

Unlike the pass-interference call on Moss in the season opener against New England, Sunday’s call was debatable – though not apparently to Chiefs cornerback Dexter McCleon, who immediately signaled to the officials that he’d been pushed.

A quick check of the actual facts reveals that Moss actually has a bit of an offensive-pass-interference issue. There was a crucial call against him last season in a Monday night game in Philadelphia. That one killed a Vikings drive in the fourth quarter of a game they lost. And a story in the St. Paul Pioneer Press from last season noted that Moss had been called for offensive pass interference seven times from the start of the 2002 season through mid-2003. Even on his touchdown Sunday, he appeared to initiate contact with safety Sammy Knight.

Of course, that doesn’t fit in as well with the Conspiracy Theory as the new perception that Moss was treated like gold by the officials while wearing Vikings purple.

“Is there a vendetta against the Raiders?” Collins asked. “You hear that. But I think a lot of the penalties we have are legitimate. We have to take care of the things we can control.”

Moss and the Raiders are a perfect fit. He’s a rebel. He’s lightning fast. And he draws the yellow flag. It’s a marriage made in heaven.

Except, of course, for that 0-2 part.