Chance at Taking a Chance Taken from Buffalo Bills
The Buffalo Bills exceeded expectations, which is one way of trying to come to terms with falling short of them. Feelings can swing in a moment, which is how believing two things makes sort-of sense. Following sports teaches ambivalence to the point of confusion. Use any positive phrasing you’d like before reality elbows back in to remind fans just how bleak things really are. Perhaps the contrast will encourage tempered fantasies.
Things turned out great compared to how much they sucked earlier. But comparison doesn’t provide as much comfort as hoped. This team underachieved significantly during the fall, which feels like another geological era. The ultimate result didn’t go as terribly as once expected. Getting disappointed in a slightly different way should totally fix your mood.
An offseason spent wondering if the window would close before the team attempted to jump through it didn’t feature high hopes. But every single season should feature reasonable expectations while remembering no games have been played yet. That includes Carolina. On a relative scale, results are simply about feeling less disappointed. More losses aren’t so bad if you’re aiming for a lower assessment.
The Bills possessed an uncommon chance both during the year and in what turned out to be their last game to alter destiny. They cashed in on the former only to fritter the latter. We’re in the midst of plenty of time to think about whether it’s better to never get up hopes. Use the sentence wisely. A long offseason in the hole will be spent thinking about what crimes those you can’t control committed to get you banished there.
Fans would’ve been thrilled in early November if you informed them this club would win a playoff game. That presumes they wouldn’t have confused about not only how time travel works but how saying what’s going to happen fails to affect it.
Affecting the continuum reached peak urgency after losing to Denver, which as a reminder really happened. We can giggle now at the sort of crushingly comical mess that usually defines a season, especially in these parts. Buffalo wasn’t doomed by the results. That didn’t happen until months later.
A rather remote chance of making the playoffs disappeared. If it were a pie chart, the slice after the aforementioned brutal loss to the Broncos would have been the percentage of people who dislike pie. Defying improbable odds just took winning incessantly. The conclusion of creating their own good fortune was much more abrupt.
The route doesn’t matter once they’ve arrived. The ticket’s been scanned even if it feels like they snuck in. Winning that many consecutive games that late in the year assuages concerns about overall performance. Cool professors always note accelerated progress in learning from the midterm to the final with a grade that satisfies your parents.
Circumstances that led to arrival are irrelevant. One person can start an app which translates barks so we can know how much doggies adore us while another wins Powerball, and they’re both rich. Whether the modern baron invests in promising companies or puts it all on red at a Seneca Niagara roulette wheel, it’s theirs to blow. The best investment would be buying a Buffalo sports team and then a new coach.
It’s not ingratitude to expect more, especially when we’ve gotten so much less through history. Even winning it all just means hoping for consecutive titles next. Fans of every area franchise feel disappointed the Bandits stand at .500 after the four-loss previous season which resulted in a win in the league’s final postseason game. By contrast, losing so frequently that fans are conditioned to cherish rare wins is called Sabres Disorder.
shouldn’t get to the point where a team places all hope upon a kick. But contending in any game is a feat, particularly an elimination affair against your franchise’s Moriarty. Making opportunities is the simplest and most difficult solution. Despite all the affair’s shortcomings, one dramatic moment proved to be unscripted with a shortcoming. We conducted this same soul-denting debate about who’s at fault 33 years ago. The loser was Buffalo. Deciding how to frame a cinematic defeat doesn’t reshoot the ending.
Determining who’s responsible for a loss is as close to catharsis as is available. Reviewing details feels agonizing. But existing on Earth is crammed with opportunities to analyze why everything fell apart at the moment you needed it to come together.
Life’s victims are left with nothing but deciding whether it was the fault of special teams who weren’t very special or defenders who did little of the sort. You don’t have to feel bad for flubbers even though they’re true representatives of the human condition. Trying to cheer up the employee whose ineptness brought so many down is like hoping your ex-girlfriend is happy with her husband. Nice balances with pathetic.
Lugging around burdens is as human as wondering what’s next to eat. But dealing with the way it’s been rotten previously constitutes much of what life is. Sports are supposed to serve as a distraction from everything else before they turn out to be the primary example of what’s challenging about it. Trying to finally ditch depressing tendencies usually goes like squandering the second seed.
