As an acknowledged authority on just about every aspect of life upon which the sun shines and the moon beams, Observer will now explain to you the Chargers, which is a team of footballers that plays from scrum on a level pitch of green.

About real estate, Observer really knows. He can tell a Mello-Roos from a reverse mortgage at a single glance. So much for bona fides.

The Chargers footballers, who are splendid this year, are looking for new digs. That's what success will do for you: You trade up. The stadium of Qualcomm was fine for a time, and is still pretty nice, but the neighborhood … you know.

So the Chargers are looking for land. On it will be built a new stadium. They want something more in keeping with the day and age, or so it seems. (They need only have come to the Observer, and all problems would be solved, as you will presently see.)

Because the Chargers are nothing if not a transparent organization, except when the information sought surpasses the trivial, they are not site-shopping in secret. Their reps are on television when the time is right, waxing enthusiastic about a town here and a city there.

Money keeps coming up. Who is going to pay for this? It is never clear, beyond frequent assurances that the public will not have to spend a dollar, just where the money will come from. Perhaps it will all be from "private" sources. "Private" usually means corporations that want, first, tax write-offs, and, second, their names up in lights.

Observer, need one be reminded, is an authority non pareil on finances, and what is more, he is a keen intuitive analyst of just what's what. Observer is willing to bet the Chargers rep, one Mr. Fabiani, 10 bucks that the public will end up paying the tab. But hey, he's still site-shopping; we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Chula Vista has been a city de jour for months, with National City a close jour. Chula Vista is swell, one supposes, and National City a perfect doll. But they're very close to the border with Mexico. As sites go, they have downsides, although you'd never know it from the grins and the enthusiasm on television.

Here's one problem: Mexico is not in the United States. It's on the Mexican side. On the U.S. side there is a determination among many people to keep it that way, perhaps by building a high wall two or three thousand miles long.

The idea of a bunch of urchins sitting on said wall peering into a new stadium, and paying nothing for the privilege of watching a scrum game, filled with collisions and gringos running for their lives, has very little visual appeal, frankly speaking.

Another downside is that the border borders on land filled with undocumented persons. Sure, sure, build it in Chula Vista or National City, and before you know it half the Chargers footballers will be undocumented aliens, or illegals, as the legals like to say.

If you ask Observer (who writes this column so that you won't ask), Chula Vista is just so-so as a site, and he says no. National City is National City. They're still on the short list, but such lists haven't much meaning except to list-makers.

Enter Oceanside. Oceanside has in the past been spoken favorably of. Way last February it popped up as a candidate. Esther Sanchez was interested.

Aside from its present-day politics, a mix of Franz Kafka and Stephen Colbert, Oceanside has it all. It's got the beach, it's got a pier, it's got hotels in the works, it's got vibrant dreams, it's got a well-placed golf course.

Tuesday, it had an audience. Fabiani and Dean Spanos, of the family that owns the club, listened to a sort of pitch, apparently, from Mayor Jim Wood. They talked about a sightly site, the 75 acres called Center City Golf Course but known as Goat Hill.

At the February alarm, town mothers and fathers, the chamber (have you ever seen an actual "chamber" in use by the Chamber of Commerce? Observer hasn't), the barbers, the historians, Junior Seau -- everyone sang hosannas. That was then.

After Tuesday's meeting, there was again something to cheer about, maybe. You could feel it in the air: Enthusiasm. Everybody waxed it.

What a great boost for Oceanside and North County it would be if the Chargers bolted (play on words) up there.

As their transparent policy instructs, the Chargers weren't talking after the Tuesday sitdown.The mayor said: "The Chargers kept everything very close to the vest."

Observer is sure that parking came up, which is abundant in Oceanside, or as abundant as your average gridlocked city. He knows that the people of Oceanside are generous and often make eye contact. There isn't a large wall to be seen, and there would be very little trouble with urchins.

What will happen, Observer does not know. After that early interest, poof. Well, Oceanside is a place where a lot of good ideas have gone to die.

If not Oceanside, where?

People, people, people. The solution is right in your midst. It is so obvious, so painfully evident. Observer has known for months where the new stadium should be.

Here it is: Rancho Santa Fe.

What could be more perfect? There is land galore, broken up into lots ranging from 5 to 500 acres. It has fantastic access to I-5 and the Pacific Ocean.

Its denizens are rich. Not merely first-million rich. We're talking bagsful rich, yacht-rich, Maserati-on-Mondays rich. We're talking 96.3 bathrooms per dwelling. We are talking all-the-ice-cream-they-can-eat rich.

With such wealth, these denizens, 27 of whom have owned teams and six of whom once attended a game, pay for a new stadium for the Chargers but can also provide the land to put the stadium on … and…

Observer has just read what he has written. It's nonsense. Rancho Santa Fe is not the place. Those who live behind their golden gates, hidden by design from the view of the scruffy hordes, would never stand for it.

Observer does not know what he was thinking. He apologizes and will check his meds.

No, Observer believes that Oceanside is the best spot, and that's the truth. He'd prefer low-income housing to a colosseum -- don't forget what happened in Rome -- but the team's great glory has turned his head.

He is, after all, a nationally acclaimed expert on the game, which involves kickballs, faux tigers in black and white stripes, wieners and three players named Tomson, La and Damon. Go scrummers, down the pitch.

Contact staff writer John Van Doorn at (760) 739-6647 or jvandoorn@nctimes.com.