
| October 05, 2005 | « Previous Story | HOME | Next Story » | Posted at 12:49 AM |
Hi, my name is Kevin Shenoy. Welcome to the Land of Rebuilding. I know you weren’t expected to come on this journey, but alas, here you are. I just wanted to welcome you.
I was unable to watch the game this weekend due to a wedding I was at. While I’ll give you a piece of what I think is happening to this team, I also have a little piece in the DVD Extras that is unrelated to this specific game. It is, however, quite helpful in the world of women and football. For those of you who have either written on the boards, written me, or talked to me about the ladies in your life who cannot understand your passion for the game, perhaps the analogy will allow you to fight a better fight. Perhaps I can get you 20-30 more minutes in front of your television. But before I do, I’ll offer my opinion on the Buffalo Bills:
Like I said, I didn’t watch the game. On the drive from Boston, I turned on the AM radio to see if I could get an update. They said Buffalo started with a 7-0 lead, but it was now 13-7. I turned off the radio immediately. I knew the game was over, and more so, I knew the team is heading towards a full-on collapse.
I hate that this team is Extreme Buffalo. How many times has our city, either in sports or regular life, been messed over? We do things hoping for the best, but the worst things spawn from the things we thought would better ourselves. For those of you who aren’t listing off every injustice that has plagued our city, here are a few to chomp on:
Buffalo just has that knack for not pulling through. You challenge us, we collapse. In fact when I lived in Buffalo going to school, I was mildly retarded. Doing well was an impossibility. I left and now I’m much less Buffalo. Buffalo makes all these changes, we dream all these big dreams, we have seen ourselves put against the worst odds, and we plan for better things. We believe in those plans like a religious text, and then, voila, we crap the bed.
This football team is classic Buffalo. We wanted to count on the one thing we had (a defense), believe in the x factor (our special teams) and make a couple big changes (offense) and see what happens. Let’s take a gamble. And it all goes to hell. It actually goes worse than if we stuck our thumb in our butts and just waited it out. You can look at the examples above and use the formula and it always holds true. Why?
Is there something in the water? My friend, Mark, and I always claim that. We can trade or draft any superstar hockey player. Invariably, they come to the Sabres, have an incredible week gaining the trust of the crowd, and then they fade into nothingness. This always takes about a week for the player to tank. The science behind it is that it takes one week until all the water the player had in his previous city to completely evacuate his body. Then the new Buffalo water reeks damage to their poor innards. They fail to score more than 30 goals a season. Mogilny, Ray Sheppard, etc. Once they are out drinking different water, they are amazing. Even Scotty Bowman, who wins championships everywhere else on every other level did nothing for us. TWICE!
I am not without hope though. (that is also a trademark of being a Buffaloian). We need someone who says, despite all these odds, “I am going to succeed, regardless of the history.” In fact we all need to be that person. We need to drive for unprecedented success in everything we do. We just need a figurehead like J.P. Losman or some other athlete to come here and do it differently than their predecessors. Jimbo was almost that guy. We need someone to come into Buffalo the way it currently is and leave as a huge winner. Maybe it’s not even a sports star. Maybe it’s one of us who can be inspirational and successful on a level not known to most and bring some pride back to our town.
We don’t need more excuses, we need more success. We don’t need to hear why it didn’t work, we need to know and see that it is going to work. And we want to know that it won’t stop working. I wanted JP to show that cockiness and say, “Yeah, I’m the 4th QB from the draft, I was the pick that people were unsure about, I’m the one that people can’t bare to look at right now, and by the way, go F yourself, I plan on being a winner next week and for the remainder of this season.” Show us the cocky Losman that we all secretly want. I trust that at some point soon, this year even, he’s going to back it up. Even in our success we dance around apologetically because we think it’s all on borrowed time. We think it can’t possibly last. How come all these other cities don’t think like that? I want JP to be the public catalyst to all the greater success that is way overdue for each and every one of us. Perhaps this is the time to cheer the loudest. Let’s freak out naysayers by being positive and getting the job done. It’s not too late. Bills Players, I hope you read this. As fans we’ll do our part next Sunday, now you do yours.
God speed ahead, Buffalo fans. Our time is coming.
DVD Extras:
So as promised, I have an analogy that may help you with your significant other who despises your football watching habits. As stated above, I was at one of my closest pal’s weddings. I was actually selected in the later stages of the 4th round in the Groomsmen Draft of 2005. I’m not exactly the 1st round pick (best man), but I liked being given a chance to wear the uni (the tux) and show the coaches what I can do (show the Inlaws that I’m a decent enough of a guy).
Anyway, I realized that weddings are girls’ football games. They get fired up and intense for their event. They have to get to the stadium about 6 hours for pre-game prep from their hair to their shoes. They have the pre-game player announcements with the walk down the isle. The wedding is just like the actual football game to them. While the whole thing is very important to them, most of it comes down to about 3 big plays, (the “I do’s”, the rings, the kiss). That’s when the tears start. They have the post game (the reception). They do the question and answer as they rotate around to different tables. “so how does it feel to be married?” They reply with some generic answer that pleases everyone. You hear the weak reporter chuckles in the background.
I am convinced if there were TV contracts and ESPN for weddings, you’d see your girl on the couch with a thumb in their beltloop watching to it blindly. I’m sure you’d hear things like, “wait one sec I just need to know if Patty’s dress fits right. It could be 3 weeks if it doesn’t fit right. It would be a devastating blow to a girl who thought this was her year.” “I have her on my fantasy team, she went from single to married in like 4 weeks. She’s the best ever. She’s begging to be the next J-lo.” I guess it’d be funny if women went to other women’s weddings with their favorite wedding dress on and cheered during the ceremony.
Do you wonder what would happen if one wedding was set up to be like a football game? At the beginning, there would be a huge paper picture of the bride and groom over the main door. “Are you ready for this” the classic Technotronic song played at every stadium since 1992, blasts out. The Groomsmen and Brides maids come crashing through the picture waving their fingers shouting and doing the Lawyer Milloy arm pump. A mascot with the head of the groom comes out firing up the crowd, shooting out t-shirts into the pews. You see old ladies diving across isles to get a shirt with Tim Horton’s scribbled across the chest. Then the doors close. And the Groom is introduced to the Chicago Bulls/ Van Halen song. “Starting at wide receiver out of Miami University, Jon Doe!!” The door opens and the groom comes sprinting down the aisle high fiving the crowd. The doors close again. The announcer screams out to the same music, “Your starting QB out of Florida State, Jane Doe!!” The lady comes out with a beautiful gown but doing the Ray Lewis Entrance. It would be a beautiful thing, really. When the I Do’s and the kiss are completed the married couple Lambeu Leaps into their respective parents’ sections. The parents and grandparents are pulling on their child into the pews completed with bum slaps. The analogy could go on forever. In fact, if you can add to the chaos that could happen if weddings were more like Football games, please email me at binaural02@hotmail.com. The funnier responses I’ll toss in the next DVD extras. In the meantime, I’ll just wait to be invited to this wedding.
But, back to reality. The most telling thing which should be the ammo you use when defending the gross amount of TV you watch and the travel associated to the games is that the cost that ladies go through for weddings. The hair, the make-up, the pedicure, the dress, the shoes, the hotel, the travel. It all costs a lot more than tickets, the trip to the stadium and a meal at the game. My cousin was at like 10 weddings of which she was in like 7 of them. So it’s not like they can argue, “I only go to one wedding whereas you have 16 games.” Obviously since they know you are a Bills fan they won’t mention the playoffs. At some point girls go to about a football season’s worth of weddings. And the worst part is you are dragged along. We don’t even ask that they watch with us. We just want to lay down with a notebook and the remote to watch the game. Our football craziness keeps us on our couch for 16 weeks where one day in a week is completely lost. Their events are 3 day events during summer when you wanted to take a cool vacation. Can you imagine 3 day football weekends? Mmmmmm, 3 day football weekends.
I hope that helps. If you use it and it works, let me know. If it doesn’t and she literally tries killing you for likening the symbol of love to a football game, then remember, I didn’t say anything to you. At the very best, she will get a better understanding, at the very worst, you go back to sleeping on the couch that you feel asleep on during the Monday night game anyway.
This Week’s song quote:
“Oh My, It's A Mirage
I'm Tellin' Y'all It's a Sabotage”
Those are the lyrics to Sabotage from the Beastie Boys. Classic in itself, even better when you realize that it comes from the album “Ill Communication”