Go Bills! (One Fan's Journey)

This is the story of how I became a Bills fan, having lived no closer than South Bend, Indiana. Most folks would expect that my fandom happened when I met up with & married a Buffalo-area native. But I've been a fan since The Comeback, a game I actually didn't watch at all, about seven years before I met my husband.

I need to set the scene a little bit. The year is 1993. Cell phones aren't really A Thing, and even the internet is a wee baby. Most folks get their news from actual news papers or radio or TV. No algorithm is pinging your immediate environment with live updates on anything. So if you're not watching this game live, it might be a solid minute before you find out what happened.

Adding further context is the fact that I lived in Germany at the time as a dependent of my Air Force father (aka a military brat). So if we are going to watch any sporting event live, we're doing it at an hour that is inadvisable for attending work or school the next day (correction: attending work or school later that same day). All of my English-speaking news arrives in the form of the Armed Forces Network, which is trying to cater to the needs of all Americans serving overseas; there are not necessarily going to be local sports color commentary to catch on your way out the door.

All of that is to say that most of us saw where that game was headed and turned off the TV to get some sleep, seemingly safe in the assumption that Buffalo would lose. And most would not get the news about the actual outcome until a good deal later in the day, or possibly the evening, depending on when they read a paper or watched any news (assuming they did; I was, after all, in ninth grade; most of my peers weren't doing any of that).

My father, however, always enjoys a good game of Sports. He would get up pretty early to start his day, and he happened to get up in time to watch The Comeback unfold in real time. He's interested purely from a "this has literally never happened before" angle. He shares the crazy story with me when I get up to start my day (I would typically be the second one up in the house). I agree that this sounds very neat, and I pay a little more attention than usual, because I have one more piece of context.

In the ninth grade, there was a boy who greatly annoyed me who also happened to wear his prized Oilers Starters jacket all the time, talking shit left and right about whatever. I honestly couldn't tell you exactly why I found this kid so bothersome back then. I think it had something to do with him being an ass to a friend of mine? Anyway, my dad tells me that the Oilers suffered not just a loss but a historic loss?!!? I am ready, eager to talk Sports that day.

The Junior High Gods of Petty smiled with extra glee for me: This boy was not one of the few who had managed to catch the news of The Comeback. He had gone to bed, secure in the knowledge that his team would win. He strutted in to class, wearing his Oilers jacket like he was the proverbial All That. And somehow I was right there to give him the news of the amazing, record-breaking Bills victory...and watch his smug smile vanish.

Reader, I have been a Bills fan ever since. Through two more super b*wl losses and all the "Boy, I Love Losing Super b*wls" jokes. Meeting Mark in 2000 just made it all seem like fate, especially because he was actually at The Comeback, sticking through the whole thing, refusing to leave, getting to be a part of it.

We were able to get to one last game at the OG stadium this year, where I got the above photo on a warm September night to watch the Bills squish the fish. Our seats were situated perfectly to have the new stadium lurk over us the whole time. We'll get to a game in the new place at some point, but we've also got seats and bits of turf coming our way so we can hold on to the classic.