Detroit Lions-Philadelphia Eagles: When a Loss Hurts More Than It Should

When it looked like the Detroit Lions were going to lose to the Philadelphia Eagles by 18 points, I was deflated, but okay.

When I thought they were going to lose by 11, I was okay, and I had some positives to take from the game.

When the Lions scored again and pulled to within three points, I was actually a little bit excited. Oh, don't get me wrong, I still knew they were going to lose, but I was thrilled with the effort they put up out there.

Then they recovered an onside kick, and the wheels started spinning. My breath hitched in my throat. I stood up off the couch and started straightening out my 81 jersey.

"They just might pull out an 18-point comeback," I started thinking.

They had a minute and 50 seconds, and possession of the football. A virtual eternity, considering they only needed about 25 yards to move into Jason Hanson's vast field goal range, and they were sitting on a timeout.

They did just enough.  As I spent most of the fourth quarter attempting to disengage from the game (in an attempt to mitigate the pain of another loss), they did just enough to pull me back in.

It's always like this. The Lions can't just lose a game and be done with it. There has to be some astonishing circumstance surrounding it, to make sure there's as much let-down as possible.

If I were at Ford Field this week, I would have stayed after the Eagles went up by 18 in an apparent kill shot. I would have stayed until the final tick ran off the clock, just as I did watching the game on TV. I think that makes me a good, loyal, devoted fan.

Which is not supposed to be something your home team punishes you for. Those fans that left the game early got the better end of the deal. They would have gotten home, seen the box score, and said, "Wow, we scored two more times? Can't believe we almost pulled it out."

It would have surprised them, but they wouldn't have felt it. They didn't feel it like I did, watching my beloved Lions do everything right for just long enough to be disappointing. They didn't pound the floor of their living rooms as they watched a fourth-and-10 pass fall harmlessly incomplete.

They got rewarded for bailing out on their team, because what they witnessed was a loss. What I witnessed, and what many of you witnessed, was a win getting snatched away.

Much the same thing happened last week. After the Bears pulled ahead with less than two minutes left in the fourth quarter, I'm sure lots of people gave up on the Lions, after they had failed to put together a first down for most of the game.

If you flipped the game off then, you would never have witnessed a brilliant two-minute drill, and a game-winning touchdown catch snatched away by a technicality. You wouldn't have screamed euphorically as the first official signaled touchdown, then looked on, confused, as Mike Pereira explained why a touchdown catch wasn't a touchdown catch.

It would have been a downer. But it wouldn't have hurt you.

This game, today? It hurt. It put a brick where my stomach should be, and I know lots of you are feeling it as strongly as I am.

This is where I'm supposed to bring you analysis, and tell you who stepped up, and where the mistakes were, and what really stands out in the game.

This is where I'm supposed to praise the Lions' effort at making a game out of it when all seemed lost. But I can't right now. Maybe later.

Because today, all the Lions did was take a game that seemed lost, fight hard to turn it into a winnable game, then lose it anyway. And that's a story that's getting very, very old in Detroit. It's starting to feel like I'm being fooled. Duped into believing them.

It's like every game is a conversation where I play the role of Charlie Brown and the Detroit Lions play Lucy.

They've pulled that football away every single time. I know, at my very core, I know they're going to do it again. But for one reason or another, they do whatever they need to do to convince me to believe them, and I get on board.

Next thing I know, my head's on the ground, I've lost another football game, it feels like 10 people have just stomped on my chest, and the Little Red-Haired Girl won't talk to me.

Now, as an organization, competitive near-misses like this are a lot better than, say, 18-point losses. I know that.

I also know that these growing pains are a little more painful in the first two games than in years past.

The only thing that keeps me going is the belief that it means the Lions are actually growing in the right direction this time.

And after the wounds heal this time, I'll be back next Sunday to find out. Maybe, much to the chagrin of the Who, I will get fooled again.

But for better or worse, I'll never give up on this team, no matter how many times they pull the football away.

Though I don't know if I can say the same about my poor heart.