Late in regulation of Monday night’s Game 7, I texted another damaged Buffalo sports watcher the following: “I absolutely cannot wait to see what form of torture lay ahead.”
His response: “That’s all I can think about. OT loss?”
At the very least, I thought. And he was right: OT loss.
Another OT, loss, I should say, just like the time Patrick Mahomes got the ball with 13 seconds left in regulation and forced overtime against the Bills, then beat them.
Just like Brett Hull’s bogus Cup winner in triple-overtime against the Sabres in 1999.
Just like the refs robbing the Bills of an obvious and likely game-winning catch in Denver this past January.
Just like the Music City Miracle when the Tennessee Titans returned a trick kickoff for a touchdown to eliminate the Bills.
Wait, that was late in regulation. Just like Scott Norwood’s missed field goal. Just like the refs robbing Josh Allen of a first down in Kansas City in the AFC title game two years ago.
Just like … oh, never mind.
Wait, just like the Buffalo Braves losing in soul-vaporizing fashion to the Boston Celtics and Washington Bullets in 1970s NBA series, one time walking off the court after a ridiculous foul call sent the Celtics to the line to win a game with no time left.
As a sports town, my childhood city is cursed. It’s the most cursed sports city in America, actually. That is not opinion. It is fact.
Even Cleveland has won a championship lately. The last major Buffalo team to win a title was the Bills capturing the AFL Championship in 1965. It feels relevant to mention that Marty Schottenheimer was on that team (which of course lost to Kansas City the next year with a trip to the first Super Bowl on the line).
My personal fandom has softly faded into a semi-bitter but bemused detachment, spiced with fits of destructive rage. I root more for my friends and family back home now. But I always know what’s going to happen.
We all do.
The Sabres are now 1-8 in Game 7s. The Bills are 0-4 in Super Bowls and 0-4 in playoff games against Patrick Mahomes in the Josh Allen era.
Just like Charlie Brown trying to kick a football — although he probably would have beaten the Giants — Buffalo always misses. It’s best to accept as much and even expect it.
We will never win. That is our plight. As my dying father whispered to my sister Sheila back in September, when she mentioned that this could be the Bills’ year, “I’ve heard that one before.”
So we are left with surreal but touching moments like Bills fans packing City Hall to cheer Norwood after his legendary miss and Sabres fans chanting, “Let’s Go Buff-a-lo!” after the boulder-to-the-groin ending Monday.
There is a cartoon that depicted all of this years ago, after the Bills lost their fourth straight Super Bowl. It showed a man in a torture chamber yelling, “I love this! Give me more! More! More!”
The guard turns to a coworker, points back at the chamber and says, “Buffalo sports fan.”