Two thoughts come to my mind when I watch Buffalo Bills games.
I hear other fans complain about Dick Jauron or Trent Edwards or the defense, and I want to show them a scene from the movie Meatballs. Bill Murray is giving a speech near the end of the movie, and he starts yelling, “It just doesn’t matter” and the rest of the campers and team join in and chant along.
As a lifelong Bills fan, I want every other fan to see Jauron’s awfulness and chant, “It just doesn’t matter.” The Bills' problems are much bigger than any coach or player depth issues.
Yesterday, while watching my hometown team playing like South Beach kicked their tails, I came up with an analogy to describe Buffalo fandom.
Think of the actor or actress that annoys you the most—the one performer that disgusts you while watching almost anything they do. I’ll take Jack Black as an example for this argument.
Now imagine every Sunday you willfully choose to watch Jack Black, over and over. You know how the movies turn out because you have seen them so much, and you hate most of the movies; once in a while you watch something that makes you happy, but mostly watching his work makes you disgusted.
Year after year, not only do you watch, but you invite people over, build your Sundays around watching television that will most likely anger you, and buy Tenacious D merchandise even though the Pick of Destiny is like watching a 38-10 loss.
Being a Bills fan can best be described as insanity. We’re the crazy ones. We unreasonably sit down and believe that this year will be different, even though the Bills haven’t won a playoff game in 15 years. We buy tickets to see a team that appears to have less interest in winning than the fans.
Buffalo fans are dealing with a curse—not a curse in the same vein as the Cubs or even something where an event happened on the field that led to this black cloud. The Scott Norwood field goal and the four straight Super Bowl losses were painful, but at least the Bills were successful. The franchise hasn’t won a playoff game since they knocked Joe Montana out of a game in January 1994.
Maybe wide right or harming a legend qualifies as a karma-changing event, but most franchises have on the field events with some similarities and haven’t suffered the same consequences.
A demon sits about the heads of the Buffalo franchise, and there are only two ways this demon can possibly be exorcised.
One is for the Bills fandom to hire Woody Harrelson and have him shoot down the zombie that is Ralph Wilson. Obviously since Ralph is playing games in Toronto and not hiring general managers that know football and is giving extensions to awful coaches, he definitely qualifies as a demon-type figure deserving of an end.
However, it is very likely going to be difficult in court to prove that Ralph is actually the living dead, and since Harrelson is an actor and not really a zombie killer, he probably will not go along with the plot.
A really good lawyer could make the case that since he has lived through the last few Bills seasons while in his late 80s, then he must be some creature of the night, and he does live in Detroit. Then again, Ralph was around in the 1990s when the Bills did make those Super Bowls, so although he is a big problem, he is not the curse lurking over the Bills.
The curse of the Bills hangs in the Ring of Honor.
Five months after the last playoff victory in Bills history, the O.J. Simpson fiasco began. Although he was found innocent in a court of law, most people feel confident that O.J. is a murderer.
Having a murderer as the greatest player in franchise history is enough of a karma killer. Having his name still hanging in the Ring of Honor is disgusting. It is the black cloud that haunts the Bills every day.
O.J., being the creep that he is, decided to double down on Sept. 13, 2007, as he committed a felony robbery offense. The date is important because it happened exactly one week after the Kevin Everett injury and last second loss to Denver.
Everett’s injury was one of those events that could put football in perspective and unite a community and a franchise, and with Everett’s fantastic recovery could bring a lot of positivity. It was a sense of positive karma to where everything was behind Buffalo positively hoping for Everett to get better.
O.J. had to kill that feeling. Now the greatest player in Buffalo Bills history is in jail, and yet his name still stands above the field.
Frankly, it can’t stay there any longer.
Ever since the O.J. robbery, the pain has been even weirder. Notice how in the last three years the worst moments for the Bills have mostly happened at night. It’s the stronger, more lawless O.J. Demon crushing the Bills.
It’s time to fight back. Take your axes, your torches, whatever tools are necessary, and head to Ralph Wilson stadium and tear down O.J. Simpson’s name from the wall. If you want to leave the No. 32 up there, that’s fine, but the name has to come down, and the sooner the better.
If the zombie Ralph Wilson isn’t willing to remove the name, Bills fans need to; hell, it’s a publicly financed stadium after all.
You may think I’m nuts for advocating an act that is probably a crime. Of course I’m nuts. I root for the Bills every Sunday.
A huge public uproar would take place if Ralph Wilson and the Bills decided to put back up the name, and you could always ship the name you take down to Fred Goldman, and I’m sure he’ll help hire a good lawyer to defend you.
Exorcise the demon and remove the felon and murderer from the wall of fame. Go Bills.
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