The Las Vegas Raiders dropped a bombshell on the NFL late Sunday night, and the shockwaves hit both sides of the Bay. Raiders owner Mark Davis officially fired offensive coordinator Chip Kelly after yet another disastrous showing—this time a 24–10 meltdown against the Cleveland Browns that plunged the franchise to a miserable 2–9. The numbers were ugly, but the timing and the symbolism were even harsher. For many 49ers fans, the news felt like déjà vu mixed with a twisted sense of poetic justice.

Kelly’s tenure in Las Vegas was supposed to be a bold swing, a high-octane experiment designed to drag the Raiders’ offense into a modern era. Instead, it crumbled into something uncomfortably familiar. Vegas ranks dead last in points per game, dead last in rushing, and has been outscored by double digits for six straight weeks. Those statistics were the final straw for Davis, who reportedly made the decision before he even stepped out of his suite at Allegiant Stadium.
Inside the organization, frustration had been boiling for weeks. Sources said Davis felt the offense never developed an identity, and worse, defenses had figured out Kelly’s scheme faster than the Raiders staff could adjust. The same criticism followed Kelly out of San Francisco in 2016—an infamous year where the once-proud Niners spiraled to a 2–14 disaster, the second-worst season in franchise history. That nightmare still lingers like smoke over Levi’s Stadium, which is why Sunday’s firing triggered an avalanche of reaction.
Across the Bay Area, 49ers Faithful didn’t just react—they erupted. Fans treated the announcement like a long-running joke finally landing its punchline. Social media burst into digital confetti. Memes resurfaced of Kelly’s doomed sideline stare from 2016. Some called it karma, others called it justice. A few joked that the Raiders had “paid premium money to relive the worst year of our lives.” For a fan base still emotionally scarred by that season, Kelly’s downfall with a hated regional rival carried a special sting of satisfaction.
But the irony doesn’t stop there. Kelly’s 2025 coaching odyssey is one of the wildest in modern football. He voluntarily left UCLA for a coordinator role at Ohio State early in the year, won a national championship with the Buckeyes in January, parlayed that into a lucrative NFL opportunity in March, and now closes the year unemployed yet again. Eleven months. A full rise-and-fall story arc usually reserved for fiction.
Sources: Chip Kelly is out as the Raiders offensive coordinator. pic.twitter.com/n8XcqIPOl4
— Adam Schefter (@AdamSchefter) November 24, 2025
The Raiders now move forward under interim offensive coordinator Rich Scangarello, though “forward” may be too generous a term for a team limping toward what looks like a lost season. Their playoff hopes are ashes, their offense is broken, and their fan base is demanding answers. Davis, for his part, made it clear he won’t hesitate to keep making changes if necessary.
Meanwhile, the 49ers—now surging under Kyle Shanahan with an 8–3 record—watched the news unfold from a position of rare stability. The contrast between where the franchise stands today and where Kelly once dragged it is striking. And that contrast only amplified the reaction when the Raiders became the latest team to discover, painfully, that Kelly’s once-revolutionary system no longer holds the magic it had at Oregon.
As the league digests this latest twist, one thing is certain: the Chip Kelly experiment, once sold with fireworks and futuristic playbooks, now feels like a cautionary tale. A reminder that innovation without adaptability is just a short road to the exit. For Raiders fans, it’s a bitter ending. For 49ers fans, it’s closure. And for the NFL, it’s another chapter in a saga that refuses to fade quietly.
The Raiders will now try to stop the bleeding. The 49ers will keep marching toward the postseason. And Chip Kelly—once again—will be left searching for what comes next in a career that has never lacked headlines, only staying power.
