My parents are both from Buffalo, NY area, so I inherited being a fan from them in the 90s. Upstate NY people are the best people.
But watched in horror the Bills lose four straight super bowls in a row by the time I was nine.
After surviving that trauma I returned to being a fan in the year 2000 as a teenager, to root for their quarterback Doug Flutie, who to my dismay was benched in a game called the “music city miracle.” I gave up on the them again.
In resent years I’ve struggled with the ability to suspend disbelief in football or really any “game,” and I must say after watching them for 35 years:
To paraphrase Nietzsche, to be a Bills fan is to suffer, to survive being a Bills fan is to find some meaning in the suffering.
We are very good, but never great. Never luckier than good. And always get a dose of pity with the silver medal.
There’s deep meaning in our tears.
There’s always next year….