Can getting robbed motivate the victim? Buffalo Bills fans are tired of looking for reasons that the universe catapulting flaming garbage at us could turn into a positive. Let contempt for the absurd capriciousness of it all simmer through the bye. If the NFL wants fans to focus on what losing teams could do better, they can start by ensuring the experiment isn’t contaminated. Roger Goodell puts on a lab coat only to sneeze in the specimens.
Coming up short is bad enough. Letdowns are exacerbated by curious play calls, tough injuries, coverage lapses, cheap shots by loudmouths, and letting Dangerous Danny Davis officiate the game. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTwTXU6A_vw&feature=youtu.be This was supposed to be a distraction: those feeling burnt out by the election tried to avoid coverage for one game and found themselves frustrated by conduct too egregious for pro wrestling.
At least the WWE is scripted: the NFL has no excuse for letting a fading villain like Richard Sherman get away with it. At least the mouthy poltroon knows deep down he was out of position on the interception Larry Brown-style. The good news is everyone saw what kind of person he is.
Part-time refs fully ruining it leads to cranky sighs for those of us living in blended households. There’s proof couples can get along despite cheering for different football teams. Half the apartment wanted the Seahawks to win, and it feels good admitting it. Credit goes to the lovely, talented, and brainy Dahlhalla, https://twitter.com/dahlhalla/with_replieswho’s also the couple’s eye candy. What’s my relationship role? I guess I’m good at making that chili recipe I found online.
The better half is a Seattle native who still insists on cheering for that franchise out of hometown loyalty and a title or something. And I won’t let her forget it. The merciless trash-talking may subside now that another rare meeting between our beloved teams is done, although I cannot promise it will cease. If I had a shot every time I asked if a Seahawk is some sort of bird, I would’ve still sworn at each half’s end, only while slurring. I’ve offered her Mafia membership in case she ever tires of supporting such a disagreeable roster.
Despite the league’s best effort to wreck joy and fairness, we turn every primetime matchup featuring one or both of our teams into an apartment-wide event. A Buffalo/Seattle contest party features two major steps, namely watching the game and getting a pizza. We order from a parlor that doesn’t make wings, which is one of the downsides of watching the Bills in a neutral city. I am far from home.
The game distracted from the event. I blame the NFL’s disregard for karma’s consequences. Our evening football soirees are more more likely to involve the Seahawks, what with having won the final playoff game and coming close a few other times. Getting every stupid call may not be that rewarding.
Pondering the set of circumstances that led to our respective affiliations offered a distraction from another crummy NFL primetime affair. Most of us are fated to our sides. We don’t possess much foresight in picking the city where we’re born.
Sure, some may have chosen a new city, been fond of a particular player, or just been a shameless frontrunner, which in its own way is a blessing that hasn’t happened with the Bills. But most of us play the cards we’re dealt. What we don’t control is actually liberating, as all we can do is watch. Yes, it may still feel aggravating.
Monday’s foe offers hope in the form of a team changing its own perception. The Seahawks haven’t always been in the conversation as a formidable schedule line. Buffalo fans looking for commiseration should note Seattle had their NBA team taken as well.
Additionally, the Mariners resemble the Sabres as a club that couldn’t break through and presently strives to reverse the ensuing decline. I don’t feel bad for them at this particular moment. Their backers’ strange interpretation of the rules https://twitter.com/buffalobills/status/796073381888192512 and blusterous unawareness of restrictions on contact are reminiscent of Boston fans defending gallant former Bruin Milan Lucic for bravely hitting an unsuspecting goalie.
Growing up in a city with pro franchises is one way to remember how much of life is based on pleading with forces outside of control. Now we’re invested. By the time we realize how much faith it takes to stick with a club that statistically will likely fall short of a championship every time, it’s too late to stop. We cheer for a team because of its connection to a city most of us didn’t choose. That means sharing fury when the judges star in the trial.
Nobody’s giving up now. Bills fans will never ditch cheering even though this burden was handed to us. I’m sticking with a wronged club even with extra time to contemplate frustrations from a team assigned to me based on where my great-grandparents moved looking for work. That bequest includes nothing easy: spend the off Sunday trying to remember a blown call that went in Buffalo’s favor. We could always exercise the option to not follow the game or back a different team. We may as well dip wings in ranch.
Missed tragedies aren’t as rewarding as Super Bowl wins, but they do remind is that opportunity is itself joy. Thanks to the heavenly Pegulas, I never have to worry about whether I’d adopt the Seahawks if the Bills moved to Los Angeles. I never have to cheer for, say, Doug Baldwin, which is relief through avoidance. It’s more likely I would’ve told the NFL to cram it and focused on college football, where my alma mater isn’t relocating and officials seems to know what constitutes dirty play. https://twitter.com/EverythingBuf/status/795850876724322304 I still don’t feel charitable toward the pro game’s nasty violations permitted by clownish officials.
Sports are how we appreciate blessings that we don’t control, especially when putzing leagues keep us from having them. Realizing we contribute no effect on the outcome other than discussion and cheering is a recognition of limitations. Those acting on our behalf know why we fume. Most people connected to Buffalo can rattle off a list of wonderful things about a city picked for us by ancestors. The Mafia is united by gratefulness for what we share, even if it’s anguish again.
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