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Some people believe in God. They believe He exists, without ever seeing or hearing him. Without ever experiencing a perceived “act of God.” They worship and respect Him without ever really knowing if He’s real. Full disclosure: I’m one of these people, but I have several questions for God that He has yet to answer (Namely, who killed JFK? And, is Khloe Kardashian OJ’s daughter?)
Similarly, some people are Buffalo Bills fans. They believe their team will win, even though the Bills have never won a Super Bowl (and lost four straight). They watch every Sunday, even though the team hasn’t made a playoff appearance in the new millennium. During every new offseason, they think this is finally the year, despite devastating injuries, the lack of valuable additions at key positions, and laughable coaching comments.
I am also one of these people. And the one thing I wish for deep in my heart and soul, the desire that keeps me alive, the aching in my bones at night, is that I will live to see the Buffalo Bills win a Super Bowl.
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There are days when I sincerely doubt I’ll ever see a Bills championship. And things get desperate. Like Thursday, September 15th in Orchard Park, when the Bills lost to Ryan Fitzpatrick’s New York Jets, and I listened to my dad (who will be 49 in November) rant about how the Bills will “never, ever, EVER be good.” I feel similarly every time the Bills play the Patriots, making me question why I put myself through year after year of ceaseless misery, as the Bills continue to be the joke of the NFL.
Note: I wrote this before the Bills shut out the Patriots in New England on October 2nd; the last time the Patriots were shut out at home was the year I arrived on this earth (1993).
The Bills hurt me* emotionally, constantly, and unabashedly, with such nightmares as:
I’m sorry. That Sabres pain got in there too, but that’s a whole separate diatribe.
There’s been a lot of darkness as a Bills fan, but through all of the pain, suffering, and lying face down on my bed in the dark while “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M. plays, I try to imagine what it would be like if the Bills won the Super Bowl.
Trying to contain my nerves for a playoff game, considering how I handle every regular season game. Having fans of other teams rooting for us, with their teams are out of contention while mine is in.
Having ESPN, Fox Sports One, and other national media talk about the Bills’ playoff game plan, their strategy leading up to the big game, or even the personal interest stories about the Western New York community that would surely make me weep. (For example: the “Better Days” video produced by the Sabres for the 2006-2007 playoffs still makes me sob. I’m crying now, linking the video here.
Goddamn you, Danny Briere.
I’m tearing up imagining it. On my list of selfish, immediate wants, sure, a boyfriend would be nice. I am super single. I’d love to kill two birds with one stone and be able to take a guy to the Bills bar in LA. But the thing I want more than true love’s kiss is the bath of Bills-colored confetti on the field after they win the Super Bowl.
I want the Super Bowl, more than anything in the world.
Can you even imagine?
I’m sure I would lose my voice from screaming at the TV. My nails would be bloody stubs, bitten to the edge of my skin. I would probably need to be medicated in some way. But it would be worth it.
The devastation that has bonded my family for so long would be gone, and we’d finally be united in joy, happiness, and euphoria. I’m not sure I’d ever stop smiling.
What would I do after the win? Who would I talk to? How would I just continue to be a sports fan? What else is there, after you’ve won a championship? What is true sports fulfillment like? I’m not sure I’ll ever know.
I’ve talked to friends about this: about the serenity that follows a championship. About how you cling to that victory years after, cherishing the memories and the warm embrace of being the best in the world. It’s very difficult for me to relate to feeling that type of sports joy, as the best moments of my sports life have been a Week 3 Bills win over the Patriots and a smattering of Sabres playoff wins (Chris Drury’s goal with 7 seconds left in the third period… I watched the end of this game alone upstairs at my friend Alyssa’s house, with my four other friends downstairs having a sleepover.).
I can’t think of anything better than how loud it gets at Ralph Wilson StadiumNew Era Field right before the Bills make a huge play. I love nothing more than the hours I spend with my family in an Orchard Park parking lot, making outlandish predictions, playing catch, eating homemade Chex party mix, and drinking Irish breakfast shots** before taking the most beautiful walk in the world into the stadium.
Most of the Bills’ beauty comes in the possibility of the victory. Because in most cases, that’s all we as fans ever have. In my lifetime, the reality has been that the Bills don’t win. They won’t win. They can’t win. But the moments just before, where anything is possible, and the plays that make you believe more is possible, are what make the wait worth it. The hour long phone calls about key defensive plays, the tailgating at away games in the middle of winter, and the fact that four of my family members are flying to LA for the Bills-Rams game make it worth it.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get married. I don’t know if God exists. I don’t know why Bills fans like to flip onto tables that are on fire. And I don’t know if the Bills will win the Super Bowl, ever. But I do know, that every year, every Sunday of football season, I’ll be there in blood red and bright blue, waiting to hear the “Shout” song, and probably getting my heart broken instead.
*The Bills have also hurt me, physically. I broke my foot cheering for a sack at a preseason Bills game in 2013. I contemplated suing.
** Stay with me: it’s half a shot of Jameson mixed with half a shot of butterscotch Schnapps. Then you chase with a big gulp of orange juice. Swear to God, it tastes like a waffle. You’re welcome.