There’s No Place Like Home

New England.

New York.

New York again.

Something new is going on inside Anaheim Stadium this football season, all right. Something as new as a shutout at home (against the Patriots), a come-from-behind victory at home (against the Jets) and an old-fashioned blowout at home (against the Giants Sunday afternoon, 38-17 and out).

The Rams are undefeated at home.

Repeat: Undefeated . . . at . . . home . Sure, the combined records of the visiting vanquished may be 3-15, and New England’s new nickname may be The Human Bye, and the Giants may be coached by a man who is losing his hair, his mind, his control of his players or his job, take your pick.

The fact of the matter is that the Rams are 3-0 in Anaheim, where they were 2-6 last year, and 3-5 the year before that, and less than invincible the years before that, when the Rams were jousting the San Francisco 49ers for supremacy of the NFC West.

Even in the good days, home tended to be more sour than sweet for the Rams. In their last 33 home games leading up to 1992, the Rams were a meager 15-18--and that includes a second-place finish in 1988 and a conference championship game appearance in 1989.

Is it any wonder the Rams used to complain about the sterile confines and the Brie-on-Wonder Bread atmosphere and the beach ball wars during the two-minute drill? Why they pined for road games at Candlestick Park and Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia, where the working conditions were raw and raucous, so much more conducive to the serious business of playing serious football?

Now, the Rams are saying things like, “We can’t be beat in our own back yard,” which were the actual words of free safety Anthony Newman after the low-bridging of the Giants.

Or issuing warnings such as this from cornerback Sammy Lilly: “OK. You’re coming into our home now. We’re undefeated here. You better be ready for a tough, tough ballgame.”

Lilly wants the fans to know this as well. Crowds are still down at the Big-A, residue from the team’s 8-24 start to the decade. Barely 40,000 attended the home opener against New England and only 53,541 turned up for Sunday’s game, meaning more than 15,000 seats were left unattended.

“How many did we have today?” Newman asked. “Fifty-five (thousand)? Fifty-six?”

He shook his head.

“We should be selling more tickets than that. . . . You know, it’s always been a little quiet here. I think that’s because we haven’t brought the Super Bowl back to Orange County. Once we do that, everybody’s going to be jumping on the bandwagon.”

Every home field advantage is built from the ground up. It does not happen in the stands until it happens on the field.

So while the construction is underway, Lilly finds himself compelled to run onto the field after Ram touchdowns and wave his arms like a water-logged pelican, exhorting the fans into some kind of action, any kind of action, preferably audible.

“We’ve got to have the fans’ support,” Lilly said. “You know, you play for your family and you play for your teammates, but you also kind of play for the fans. They pay for the tickets.

“We go into other stadiums and there are 75,000, 80,000 screaming fans, going crazy. Other teams coming here say, ‘There’s no crowd noise. It’s not a factor.’

“But we need it. I want to tell the people: Y’all come out and support us. They should show us they care for us. They should be excited about this team.”

Sunday’s Rams seemed to have been exhumed from a time capsule planted some time in late January, 1990.

Jim Everett, standing tall in the pocket and taller on the stat sheet, completing 18 of 21 passes for two touchdowns and 242 yards.

Cleveland Gary, fumbling once but not getting down about it, picking himself up and rushing for two more touchdowns and 126 more yards.

The Ram defense, stifling a Super Bowl quarterback, sacking him twice and then falling back into a prevent zone to protect that huge fourth-quarter lead.

Wasn’t this the team we left in San Francisco 33 months ago, one step short of Super Bowl XXIV?

More than a few steps in reverse have been taken since, but Chuck Knox appears to have located the gear shift. His words, according to Newman, were the ones that inspired this three-game home stand.

Newman: “He told us, ‘Opponents are coming into our place, our house, and you’d better kick ‘em out. They’ve got their hand in your back pocket and they’re looking for your wallet. What are you going to do about it?’ ”

Knox knew his audience.

Mention real estate and cash money to an Orange Countian, you’re probably going to get his attention.

“This is not the same team as last year’s,” Lilly said. “They’re playing their butts off on defense, they’re playing their butts off on offense. We put a whipping on a good team today. Shut them down.

“The fans should come out and check us out.”

Check out the place as well. Maybe come up with a nickname for it.

The House of Somewhat Minor Discomfort?