The Feast of Saint Monica
A brief chronicle of a Buffalo Bills fan
On September 7, 1980, the Buffalo Bills began their 21st professional football season with their home opener against the Miami Dolphins. The Dolphins came into the game with a twenty game winning streak against Buffalo, which encompassed the entire decade of the 1970s. In that time, the Dolphins appeared in three Super Bowls, winning two, including the only perfect season in NFL history. The Bills had appeared in one post-season game in the decade and had lost to the Pittsburgh Steelers. Although the Bills had made some improvements as Chuck Knox began his third season as head coach, there was nothing to suggest the Dolphins would not extend the streak to twenty-one.
But the Bills pulled a surprise. Jeff Nixon intercepted Bob Griese three times, and fourth-quarter touchdowns by Roosevelt Leaks and Joe Cribbs sealed a 17–7 victory. “The steak is over,” Bills announcer Van Miller said. “Long live the streak.” Fans stormed the field, tore the goalpost down, and delivered a large section to the owner of the Bills, Ralph Wilson. A new era of Bills football had seemingly begun, with the type of victory to be remembered for generations to come.
That is the day that the author became a Buffalo Bills fan. I lived in the suburbs of New York City, and I had been searching for a team to root for that was not the New York Jets. Even as a kid the obnoxiousness of Jets fans and the elitism of New York Giants fans rubbed me the wrong way. The Jets had not made the post-season since a loss to Kansas City in the 1969 AFL Playoffs. The Giants were completing their seventeenth consecutive season without a post-season birth. So when I saw these upstart Bills beat a perennial NFL powerhouse, I thought I had found my team. It was a decision that I have both cherished and struggled with, for 37 seasons.
The Bills would make the playoffs that season and the next, both times loosing in the divisional round. Knox would be fired after the 1982 season, and the team would bottom out with consecutive 2–14 seasons. Jim Kelly, first round draft pick in 1983, would forego the Bills for the Houston Gamblers of the USFL. But in the ashes of defeat, General Manager Bill Polian would begin the rebuilding of the team through the draft. Bruce Smith, Andre Reed, Steve Tasker, Frank Reich, Shane Conlan, Howard Ballard, Carlton Bailey, Don Beebe and Thurman Thomas would be invaluable contributors. Marv Levy would be hired as coach. Cornelius Bennett would be acquired in a major three-way deal. Kelly and center Kent Hull would be signed the same day, weeks after the USFL folded. James Lofton would be signed as a free agent. By 1988, they had reached the AFC Championship, losing to the Cincinnati Bengals. Two years later, the goal of making the Super Bowl was reached, with a 51–3 demolishing of the Los Angeles Raiders.
On the day Kelly signed, I told my brother that this would be the start of their return to prominence. My brother cautioned me: yes, Kelly had put up gaudy numbers as a Gambler, only to fizzle in the playoffs. There seemed no reason that it could not happen in the NFL. I thought he was crazy.
Many a Bills player has said that, despite only one week between the championship and Super Bowl XXV, despite their battle-tested opponents, the Giants, appearing in their second Super Bowl in five years, and despite the shadow of the Gulf War hanging over an entire nation, they over-indulged themselves in the nightlife of Tampa. The result was a sluggish performance by the offense, except for Thurman Thomas and his 165 yards gained on the ground. The result would be a defense that had to perform for over 40 minutes of game time.
But that is not what is remembered. Mistakes by the Bills, such as the inability to close the deal when a second quarter safety granted them a 12–3 lead, along with a resilient Giants offense and a masterful defensive strategy, would be reduced to footnotes, along with Thomas’ incredible performance, and a last second drive that set up a 46-yard field goal attempt by Scott Norwood with eight seconds left.
That kick, wide right, a crap-shoot that the Bills should not have allowed themselves to be dependent on, would be the lasting image of a 20–19 defeat. But even in that moment, it was OK. Although this fan was disappointed, and screamed in agony at the moment, it would soon give way to a thought: we’ll win next year. We were still the best team in football, and next year would right the wrongs.
The Bills would go 13–3 in the 1991 season. Thomas would win league MVP. And although they scraped by the Denver Broncos in the AFC Championship that year, and the Washington Redskins favored in Super Bowl XXVI, it seemed ridiculous to think that the Bills would make it back and not win. The Cowboys had followed a Super Bowl loss with a win the following year. So had the Dolphins. That is how football worked.
We know what happened. Thurman Thomas, in the game where he would make up for not winning Super Bowl MVP the previous year, could not find his helmet. The Redskins were on offense first, it should be noted. Thomas missed the Bills’ first series, unable to locate it. They trailed 17–0 at halftime. The Redskins had two touchdowns negated by penalties. It would be 24–0 within two minutes of the third quarter. The final was 37–24. The Bills turned the ball over five times, four on Kelly interceptions. Thomas finished with 13 yards on 10 carries. It was the worst loss in franchise history, and felt a thousand time worse than the previous year. A missed field goal in the closing seconds can be forgivable. For me, it bred optimism for next year. There was nothing to be sown this time. The earth had been scorched.
Time stops for no one. On January 3, 1993, the Buffalo Bills pulled off the greatest comeback, regular or post-season in league history. Down 35–3, they defeated the Houston Oilers 41–38 in overtime. It made absolutely no sense. Frank Reich threw five touchdown passes in that second half. The Oilers seemed to hand the ball back to the Bills each time. It happened so fast, Bob Costas and Boomer Esiason had time to mention that Reich had led the greatest comeback in college history. In the end, it is in the history books with the Hail Mary, the Immaculate Reception, the Catch, and … a game the Bills would play seven years later.
What if the Bills had failed to come back? What would be the legacy of the team? They would merely be a team that had lost back-to-back Super Bowls, that eventually tore itself apart. Marv Levy may have been fired, disgruntled players asking and receiving releases. No documentary films, no “What If” specials, no alternate realities of the Bills becoming the most successful franchise in NFL history. This is the line of demarcation, the moment where the Bills were lifted into the land of bizarre infamy that, even with the franchise’s frustrations since the turn of the century, they have never truly left.
The Comeback led to victories over Pittsburgh and Miami and another trip to the Super Bowl. Another embarrassment. Nine more turnovers. A Super Bowl scoring record by the Dallas Cowboys stopped only by the most memorable play of the game, Don Beebe knocking the ball out of Leon Lett’s hand out as he prepared to score. 52 points surrendered instead of 59. Lett would become an addendum to the story of the Bills, a victim of his own ridicule, to a point. Lett has three Super Bowl rings. Don Beebe has one. He won his with the Green Bay Packers.
One more trip to the Super Bowl the following year. One more back-breaking turnover. One more loss. Then the break-up began. Marv Levy and Jim Kelly retired. Bill Polian had already left for Carolina, then Indianapolis. Bruce Smith, Thurman Thomas, and Andre Reed stayed. They would see a new franchise quarterback brought in, Rob Johnson. He would last three games into the 1998 season before being injured.
And then came Doug Flutie. An underdog QB for an underdog city. Antowain Smith became the future at running back. Eric Moulds became a top receiver almost overnight. Flutie seemed to draw up plays in the dirt, while the defense became unstoppable. Bruce Smith was reborn. The games in the AFC East became wars. The Bills found ways to win. Football was fun again.
The Bills lost in the playoffs that year. Flutie and the Bills would go 10–5 the following year … until Johnson started the last meaningless game against the Colts. The Bills won. Johnson was named the starter for the playoff game against Tennessee.
What happened that day, the first weekend of the new millennium, cannot be blamed on Ron Johnson. He had led the Bills to what was thought to be the game-winning drive, capped off by a Rian Lindell field goal. With 16 seconds in the game, it appeared to be over.
Then came Home Run Throwback, engineered by Tennessee coach Jeff Fisher. A last second score by the Titans. The game developed its own moniker for the ages, the Music City Miracle. Or the Immaculate Deception, if you believe the throw from Frank Wycheck to Kevin Dyson was a forward pass. This is what happens to the Buffalo Bills.
The Music City Miracle remains the last post-season game the Bills have played. On Christmas weekend 2016, barring circumstances that would be truly miraculous, the Bills will be eliminated from playoff contention for the 17th consecutive season. It is the longest current streak in North American sports. Since 2004, the Bills had not been in position to clinch a playoff spot with a victory. They have only finished once above .500 in a season since.
The day after the game, Peyton Manning played in his first post-season contest. His last post season contest was Super Bowl 50. No Buffalo post-season games in that time frame. Or in the entire careers of Tom Brady, Eil Manning, Ben Rothlisberger, Drew Brees, or Aaron Rodgers.
Management ended the quarterback controversy and named Johnson the starter for the 2000 season. The Bills went 8–8. On the final game of the season, Flutie threw for three touchdowns against the Seahawks and scored a perfect quarterback rating. It was his last game as a member of the team.
By 2002, Flutie was in San Diego, Johnson was out of Buffalo after a 3–13 season, and the New England Patriots had won their first Super Bowl with Tom Brady at the helm. Drew Bledsoe, the QB that Brady had replaced, signed with the Bills that off-season. He would go 14–18 his first two years with the team. Brady won his second Super Bowl after book-ending a 31–0 defeat to the Bills on opening day of the 2003 season with a 31–0 victory against the Bills in the season finale.
In 2004, the Bills started 3–6 but rebounded with six straight victories, including a 41–7 victory over the 49ers in week 16 where they looked like the best team in football. A win over the Steelers in the season finale would put the Bills into the playoffs. It would have ended a respectable five-year drought. With their own playoff berth secured, Bill Cowher planned to rest the majority of his starters.
I was driving home from Charlotte, North Carolina that day, desperately moving the dial on my radio trying to pick up a radio broadcast of the game, or any game that would keep me updated on the score. By the time I reached West Virginia, the game had been decided. James Harrison returned a 4th quarter fumble for a touchdown, giving the Steelers a lead they would not relinquish. The Bills lost 29–24. The Patriots, not the Steelers, would win the Super Bowl, their third in four years. The Bills have not been in a situation where they controlled their own playoff destiny so late in the season since.
Then came Dick Jauron. J.P. Losman. Trent Edwards. Tom Donahoe. Chan Gailey and Buddy Nix. Mike Williams. Aaron Maybin. Ryan Fitzpatrick. Nine straight losing seasons. Regular season games in Toronto. One season of Terrell Owens, whose only true highlight, despite being a model citizen, was the invention of Revis Island. A feeling of irrelevance, more than anything else. They were never profoundly awful, just below average and unremarkable. They never had the #1 draft pick any year. Marshawn Lynch was traded away to Seattle, where he won a Super Bowl and almost caused an earthquake against New Orleans. Meanhwile, the Bills just existed, only popping up for the occasional heart-breaking defeat, such as to Dallas on a Monday night in 2007, blowing a 12 point lead in the final two minutes. This is what happens to the Buffalo Bills. They could not even be the worst team in the league. Oakland, Jacksonville and the then St. Louis Rams shared that honor. Nor are they the NFL’s biggest underdog. That honor belongs the Cleveland Browns.
But there were always moments of hope. Fred Jackson became perhaps the most popular Bill of the post-Super Bowl era, through hard work and determination. Kyle Williams became a stalwart on defense. But the years defeat took its toll not only on fans, but players as well. Punter Brian Moorman was also beloved, due to never-ending work for charities throughout Western New York.
Ralph Wilson died on March 25, 2014. His family announced their intentions to sell the team. Among the bidders were Donald Trump and Jon Bon Jovi, who both thought the best move for the team was to relocate to Toronto, where fan response was so tepid that the team dissolved the agreement to play at the Rogers Centre. The Wilson family did not see this as acceptable. The team was sold to Terry and Kim Pegula, owners of the NHL’s Buffalo Sabres, who were committed to keeping the Bills in Buffalo. Donald Trump did not win the bidding. He will be sworn in as the 45th President of the United States next month. This is what happens to the Buffalo Bills.
When the Bills finally made it to 9–7 in 2014, ending a 9 year streak of losing seasons,which was also the longest streak at the time, their coach, Doug Marrone, resigned with a $4 million payoff, written into his contract when he was hired because of the uncertainty of the ownership situation. Had he finished below .500, he would have been fired. Had he made the playoffs, he mostly would not have resigned. The third option happened, where the coach finished with a winning record, so you can’t fire him, but no post-season, which allowed him to pursue his options. He took the money. This is what happens to the Buffalo Bills. He is now coach of the Jacksonville Jaguars.
Kim and Terry Pegula hired Rex Ryan as head coach. GM Doug Whaley and team President Russ Brandon were retained. Ryan has gone 15–15 as coach. He is not expected to be retained after the season. There is no indication as to the fate of Whaley or Brandon. This is what happens to the Buffalo Bills.
The only relevance the Bills currently have is tailgaters occupying themselves with acts of drunkenness to amuse themselves before games. Deadspin has become a regular chronicler of events such as this, this and this.
There is a tradition in English football called St. Totteringham’s Day, where Arsenal clinches a higher spot in the tables than their North London rival, Tottenham Hotspur. The Bills’ yearly elimination from playoff contention has not been given a name, although The Feast of Saint Monica my be appropriate. Saint Monica is the patron saint of drunks.
This is what happens to the Buffalo Bills.
And yet, despite the thought entering my mind more often than ever before, I will never stop being a Bills fan. The only things that could cause that was if the team moved, which presumably is no longer an issue, or a scandal of monstrous proportions enveloping the entire organizations. Then there is the notion that I will have to dispose of every piece of paraphernalia I have on the team. Then there is the notion that the minute I walk away, the Bills will transform into a juggernaut, and I will not be able to get back on the bandwagon. Then there is the notion that I am just too old to switch now.
The Bills of the 90s have an odd reverence, even with all the losing. Wide Right is looked at with nobility now, as if when a great army suffers a noble defeat. Marv Levy, with his love of history and Winston Churchill, would appreciate that more than most. Thurman Thomas’ lost helmet is now a comic moment rather than tragic. The Comeback, of course, is now an NFL milestone. The Leon Lett play is now known more for Don Beebe’s belief in never giving up. This is what happened to the Buffalo Bills.
New York Giants fans sat through 17 seasons without the playoffs, but every game was filled to capacity with fans. They followed them across the Hudson River to the Meadowlands. One of my first football memories was hearing about the 20-year waiting list for season tickets. Sure, they flew banners over the stadium decrying lousy football, but they never gave up. They have been rewarded with four Super Bowl victories.
There has to be light at the end of the tunnel. I have thought that way since the goalposts were torn down, since Norwood missed the kick, since Home Run Throwback. That is the way the world works, and perhaps that will happen to the Buffalo Bills. Let there be light.
