Instant Classic

[murra]

Tonight, unbeknownst to me until very recently, I rode a roller coaster. I've never been partial to roller coasters, yet it's occurring to me now that I consistently take one each weekend in a row for a few months each year. A Bills game that opened with three interceptions, I said to my roommate, who was shocked at how well I was taking it, "We're only down six, this is a miracle."

 

It looked bad when we took a 13 point deficit early, with no sign of offensive life. Nothing short of a miracle, Marshawn Lynch exploded through multiple missed tackles into the endzone. Suddenly I was back in it. Here I go, the game has begun. The game progressed at its normal pace until late we're driving with a chance to erase our poor performance. Instead of scoring and taking a one-point lead into half, Edwards dodges an interception, misses an open Evans, and settles for the three-pointer.

 

Down by three into half-time, I had already endured several game-changing, "roller coaster" plays. I'm young, my heart can take it. The game continues on, and after we get the ball back, its really starting to look great. Right on cue, however, Jackson fumbles, The Browns take advantage of a poorly thrown flag (not untypical in a Bills game) and run for six.

 

We're down big again. I resort myself back to the nervousness that plagues me late in games. Hidden by my experience as a Bills fan, however, my roommate once again questions my confidence. I tell him we're a big play away. You know the tune, a timely 98-yard kick return (miracle) and my cheers are echoing across my dorm halls. I was as nervous as I had ever previously been.

 

But therein lies the problem, "Ever previously been" was not all that foreign to me. In fact, I had felt that before. Not just in our last three losses, but in nearly every single game of this season. In fact, the season prior to that. And the one before that.

 

I was born in 1989. Ironically, the same year the Bills turned for success, only of course followed by successive failure. Our family has always had season tickets, and unlike most kids my age, I have attended my share. I had averaged only one or two home misses a season since I was 8 years old. Yeah, I know, where is he going with this? The first season I understood the game, happened to be the 1999 season. I became enthralled each Sunday in the ritual my father went through, and the tradition lit up my weekends. As a young kid, who had months before attended his first Stanley Cup Finals game (followed immediately by the haunting memories that would ensue: Brett Hull hoisting the cup), I was ready for my first playoff game as a fan. I remember crying with joy as a ten-year-old as Christie nails his kick, and ends the game. It was seconds later that tears were no longer of joy but shear pain as the "miracle" took place.

 

Nine years later I've still followed this team religiously. I get my hopes up each year. I get excited, attend games and live for this team. Last year was my first away from the Stadium. I got adjusted. This year I find myself shaking my head with disbelief. I have yet to seen my team return to the playoffs, yet I still return to them.

 

That is something special. And in all honesty, as you type away your "fire the coach" threads, and your messages about quitting on the team, I sit in complete astonishment. Surely you've followed the team for these last nine years also? Unlike you, I was not worthy enough to see that success of the 90's, but here I am: my foot planted on the figurative pavement at Two Bills Drive. Yeah it gets annoying. But it doesn't get old. Never will. Being on the opposite side of countless instant classics, remember this: Barring the unfortunate removal of this team from Buffalo, I will stand along with them, and there is no reason you shouldn't.

 

After all, I'm sure your memories of the team do not begin with the Music City Miracle.

[murra]

I've never done one of these, but I want this message to be read by everyone taking the loss close to home since it wasn't when I posted it immediately after the game:

 

BUMP!

[SageAgainstTheMachine]

I've never done one of these, but I want this message to be read by everyone taking the loss close to home since it wasn't when I posted it immediately after the game:

 

BUMP!

 

Good post murra, I was born in 1989 as well, had season tickets, etc...basically the same story you told. I am with this team til death do we part. Today matched last year's MNF in pain for me. I won't get over this one until they win again.

 

Since I have your attention though murra (and i'm aware this is a bad time), you were a big mckelvin detractor, care to take that back?

[Kipers Hair]

Ah the splendor of youth...you'll be tainted and soured in a couple more years. I feel bad for you actually - never having known what it is like to support a true winner, a respected franchise...it is a good feeling - one I fear you will not come to enjoy until well after RW expires for the great game in the sky...

[murra]

Good post murra, I was born in 1989 as well, had season tickets, etc...basically the same story you told. I am with this team til death do we part. Today matched last year's MNF in pain for me. I won't get over this one until they win again.

 

Since I have your attention though murra (and i'm aware this is a bad time), you were a big mckelvin detractor, care to take that back?

 

I wont take that back. He sucks. I want McGee returning.

[BB2004]

Tonight, unbeknownst to me until very recently, I rode a roller coaster. I've never been partial to roller coasters, yet it's occurring to me now that I consistently take one each weekend in a row for a few months each year. A Bills game that opened with three interceptions, I said to my roommate, who was shocked at how well I was taking it, "We're only down six, this is a miracle."

 

It looked bad when we took a 13 point deficit early, with no sign of offensive life. Nothing short of a miracle, Marshawn Lynch exploded through multiple missed tackles into the endzone. Suddenly I was back in it. Here I go, the game has begun. The game progressed at its normal pace until late we're driving with a chance to erase our poor performance. Instead of scoring and taking a one-point lead into half, Edwards dodges an interception, misses an open Evans, and settles for the three-pointer.

 

Down by three into half-time, I had already endured several game-changing, "roller coaster" plays. I'm young, my heart can take it. The game continues on, and after we get the ball back, its really starting to look great. Right on cue, however, Jackson fumbles, The Browns take advantage of a poorly thrown flag (not untypical in a Bills game) and run for six.

 

We're down big again. I resort myself back to the nervousness that plagues me late in games. Hidden by my experience as a Bills fan, however, my roommate once again questions my confidence. I tell him we're a big play away. You know the tune, a timely 98-yard kick return (miracle) and my cheers are echoing across my dorm halls. I was as nervous as I had ever previously been.

 

But therein lies the problem, "Ever previously been" was not all that foreign to me. In fact, I had felt that before. Not just in our last three losses, but in nearly every single game of this season. In fact, the season prior to that. And the one before that.

 

I was born in 1989. Ironically, the same year the Bills turned for success, only of course followed by successive failure. Our family has always had season tickets, and unlike most kids my age, I have attended my share. I had averaged only one or two home misses a season since I was 8 years old. Yeah, I know, where is he going with this? The first season I understood the game, happened to be the 1999 season. I became enthralled each Sunday in the ritual my father went through, and the tradition lit up my weekends. As a young kid, who had months before attended his first Stanley Cup Finals game (followed immediately by the haunting memories that would ensue: Brett Hull hoisting the cup), I was ready for my first playoff game as a fan. I remember crying with joy as a ten-year-old as Christie nails his kick, and ends the game. It was seconds later that tears were no longer of joy but shear pain as the "miracle" took place.

 

Nine years later I've still followed this team religiously. I get my hopes up each year. I get excited, attend games and live for this team. Last year was my first away from the Stadium. I got adjusted. This year I find myself shaking my head with disbelief. I have yet to seen my team return to the playoffs, yet I still return to them.

 

That is something special. And in all honesty, as you type away your "fire the coach" threads, and your messages about quitting on the team, I sit in complete astonishment. Surely you've followed the team for these last nine years also? Unlike you, I was not worthy enough to see that success of the 90's, but here I am: my foot planted on the figurative pavement at Two Bills Drive. Yeah it gets annoying. But it doesn't get old. Never will. Being on the opposite side of countless instant classics, remember this: Barring the unfortunate removal of this team from Buffalo, I will stand along with them, and there is no reason you shouldn't.

 

After all, I'm sure your memories of the team do not begin with the Music City Miracle.

 

Excellent post. I would save that one for you own save keeping.

[murra]

Excellent post. I would save that one for you own save keeping.

 

Thank you, I probably should, since I'll need to be repeating this message often in the foreseeable future.

[KnightRider]

Nice post. I always thought growing up through the 80s really defined a true fan. Sadly, growing up through the aughts, it is probably even tougher to be a Bills fan.