Throne Logic
10-09-2007, 02:14 AM
I am a stronger human being that I was two decades ago when I pledged my football allegiance to The Buffalo Bills. I no longer get too high or too low for any of the variety of events life throws at me. I have become numb to the pain that life deals out to all of us. Indifferent to the joys that are bestowed upon us. I am a Bills fan. I am an emotional shell.
For decades, two in my experience, this team has functioned as an emotional drill sergeant. They build you up then tear you down, only to build you up higher and tear you down further. Each time my heart is ripped violently from my chest, I swear it couldn’t ever possibly get worse. Each time I am horribly wrong.
For a number of years, starting the season after the Music City Debacle, I have entered games in an emotionally guarded state. I quietly sit and watch, hoping for the best, but expecting what has become the inevitable; that huge “other shoe” of Fate that always seems to land in the middle of the Bills’ huddle. However, somehow, in some insidious way, this team slowly sucks you in. They are like sirens (if you look beyond the big, hairy, sweaty, male part) in that they quietly lure you into lowering your defenses. At some point in the third quarter I am alarmed to find that hope has begun to show its ugly head. By the fourth quarter, I can no longer resist its temptations. I find that, despite my carefully laid defenses, I have embraced hope and have begun to touch upon real excitement. “Maybe this once”, I think to myself. “We have to turn the corner at some point, don’t we?” Every Bills fan knows how this ends.
Each Sunday my defenses are stronger than the previous week; built up with the experience of yet another heart-wrenching blow. Yet, this team – this evil force of emotional turmoil – finds new and ingenious ways to compromise my defense mechanisms, build me up, and yank the life out of me, time and time again. Talk about your case of bad karma.
Somebody once compared being a Bills fan to being in an emotionally abusive relationship with someone you love. I have been fortunate to never experience a relationship of this sort. But I imagine that this analogy is, on a somewhat lesser degree, on the right track. I’m learning to distrust “hope” and that is not good.
It’s far too late to “cut my losses” and find another team to root for. I currently live in New England, so it would be an easy choice and no one would likely challenge me. But I’ve committed far too much so far. I’ve invested so much emotionally that I have to see it through. I have to make it through to the other side. There will come a day when victory will be that much sweeter for the heartache we have endured. Or is that the sweet song of distrustful hope calling to me once again?
For decades, two in my experience, this team has functioned as an emotional drill sergeant. They build you up then tear you down, only to build you up higher and tear you down further. Each time my heart is ripped violently from my chest, I swear it couldn’t ever possibly get worse. Each time I am horribly wrong.
For a number of years, starting the season after the Music City Debacle, I have entered games in an emotionally guarded state. I quietly sit and watch, hoping for the best, but expecting what has become the inevitable; that huge “other shoe” of Fate that always seems to land in the middle of the Bills’ huddle. However, somehow, in some insidious way, this team slowly sucks you in. They are like sirens (if you look beyond the big, hairy, sweaty, male part) in that they quietly lure you into lowering your defenses. At some point in the third quarter I am alarmed to find that hope has begun to show its ugly head. By the fourth quarter, I can no longer resist its temptations. I find that, despite my carefully laid defenses, I have embraced hope and have begun to touch upon real excitement. “Maybe this once”, I think to myself. “We have to turn the corner at some point, don’t we?” Every Bills fan knows how this ends.
Each Sunday my defenses are stronger than the previous week; built up with the experience of yet another heart-wrenching blow. Yet, this team – this evil force of emotional turmoil – finds new and ingenious ways to compromise my defense mechanisms, build me up, and yank the life out of me, time and time again. Talk about your case of bad karma.
Somebody once compared being a Bills fan to being in an emotionally abusive relationship with someone you love. I have been fortunate to never experience a relationship of this sort. But I imagine that this analogy is, on a somewhat lesser degree, on the right track. I’m learning to distrust “hope” and that is not good.
It’s far too late to “cut my losses” and find another team to root for. I currently live in New England, so it would be an easy choice and no one would likely challenge me. But I’ve committed far too much so far. I’ve invested so much emotionally that I have to see it through. I have to make it through to the other side. There will come a day when victory will be that much sweeter for the heartache we have endured. Or is that the sweet song of distrustful hope calling to me once again?