The Barrister

Back when we wrote a bunch, we had a habit of doing weekly Bills previews and recaps using bits of pop culture as thematic fulcrums. Mostly out of laziness. Also because it allowed us to crib Drew Magary without directly cribbing Drew Magary. 

With six weeks of football left (barring COVID-related season-stoppage, which is not outside the realm of likely outcomes) and the Bills sitting pretty atop the AFC East at 8-3, it seemed time to slip back into old routines in the hopes of sharing a laugh or two. And with American culture awash in very real and very absurd outgrowths of ignorant bigotry and violence, with a side of pathetic, zealous buffoonery, there's no better piece of pop culture to use as my fulcrum than HBO's Watchmen. HOLY SHIT what incredible television. Bonus points for teaching a generation of Americans about the Black Wall Street Massacre because I know for fucking SURE that they aren't teaching that shit in most high schools. If you haven't watched it yet, let me know and I'll slip you my buddy's HBO Max login just kidding Joseph I would never. 

As for the football, well, the Bills are a good football team! A friend of mine who also writes for this site and has a worse habit of pissing people off than I do insists that this is a mediocre football team but I disagree. I am happily eating crow this year as Joshua Withrop Allen and Sean Reginald McDermott remind us that nobody is perfect, especially not football fans. 

More on that below, as well as Power Ranking Trump's election lawyers, cannabis reviews from the Bay State, and some other stuff, too, probably!

THREE REASONS THE BILLS WILL SMASH TONIGHT:

1. The aforementioned Joshua. 

I don't know that I've truly expressed the mea culpa that I feel is due from my corner of the internet, what with me being so very wrong about Josh Allen. The Bills are 8-3, Allen is playing not-quite-mistake-free-ball-but-honestly-pretty-close, and more than anything - a point that can't be overstated, truly - the Bills are uproariously fun under the leadership of this big goofy kid with a rocket arm. When the Allen stans started demanding apologies from those who dared question Josh's greatness in years past, it was obviously ripe for me to start shitposting because that kind of discourse is juvenile nonsense, but honestly that kind of black-and-white approach to what we're seeing from Allen sells him short. When I watched #17 play over the course of his first two seasons, it was impossible to see a reliably likely path from his abilities under center to anything approaching success.  

Seeing Allen find that path despite how improbable it seemed in those first 20 or so starts of his career, and seeing now not just a winning football team but one that pulls hilarious, creative and - crucially - productive offensive production out of his reckless cannon of an arm is art. 

The job that Allen and the coaching staff have done to refine his accuracy is nothing short of unbelievable, and I could not be happier to have been wrong about this one. Does he have super annoying tendencies that may be his undoing in the playoffs like some sort of hubris-ridden Greek drama? Maybe! And that's the fun of it because we get to find out while he's running an amazing version of the option and lateraling to receivers who are dropping dimes for six. 

2. The coaching?

Another mea culpa coming, though it's slightly more muted. 

I like Sean McDermott as a football coach. I also think football coaches are patently ridiculous people. 

It's a profession steeped in cliché and that makes it an easy mark for criticism on the internet, and as this season plays out with Allen's numbers and the defense re-finding itself just in time for a playoff push, and the club playing truly enjoyable football under truly shit circumstances, the strength of McDermott's leadership is self-evident. He's a walking cliché and thus the easiest mark of them all, but he's also a master of those stereotypical coach tendencies. The end result is a group of football players who, by all accounts and the evidence on the field, are thriving during this pandemic season. 

The thing about clichés is that they exist for a reason and sometimes - not all the time, dear god no - but sometimes they're spot on, and in a season with few or no butts in seats, all things being equal, a team that is having a fun ass time playing together has a competitive advantage. 

Clap it up. 

3. The early-season chumps figuring it out. 

Two chumps in particular - AJ Klein and Tyler Bass - have been on my mind a lot in recent games as a couple key guys whose play has improved pretty dramatically and have produced some big moments in those wins. I won't get too deep in the weeds on either of these guys, but their play in recent weeks has been a boon to their respective units on the field. I don't read enough Bills news to really have a sense of what was wrong with Klein in his first 8 games of the season, but his numbers the last two games have been ridiculous. That kind of productivity down the stretch will be massive - especially the tackle numbers - as teams try to run on us in December weather. 

As for Bass, he's a rookie so calling him a chump is unkind but the dude was trash on the only metric that matters for a PK in the NFL: getting it through those big yellow things. That he has settled into a solidly reliable option for McDermott is a relief, if an expected one. He was never going to remain as bad as he was the first few weeks of his rookie season; whether he's good remains to be seen. But holy shit does he have a vicious right foot. 


THREE REASONS THE BILLS WILL LOSE:

1. I'm having a few friends over to watch on a projector around a firepit and it'll require no small amount of effort that is only really justified by a Bills win and the last time I did it was for the Chiefs loss and also the universe hates me. 

After that heading, well, this is pretty self-explanatory, I should think.

2. Bad Josh Allen

For a third year starter of any pedigree, while the dumb mistakes of your early career may rear their ugly head more infrequently, they haven't been put to bed altogether. One of the things I love about Allen is how his mistakes are simply something to overcome, and a challenge he's seemed to accept as part of the job description. His bounce back is very real after mistakes, but all the same some of the bizarre decisions he makes have the very real opportunity to cost us games.

3. San Francisco's Defense

I watch very little football that isn't the Bills, but the internet tells me that the 49ers are recently healthy at important spots on the defensive side of the ball - Richard Sherman, primarily - and that they're a solid unit against both the run and pass. SF is very much in the hunt in the NFC West, and they have the experience of having to relocate home games to Arizona to either bond the squad together or split it at the seams. If they can consistently jam up the Bills' plans on offense, it could be a tough and ugly game. 


Shifting gears....

This next feature has been ruminating for a couple weeks now, both in my brain and in reality. The kind of truly hilarious set of American circumstances that insists on one-upping itself on a near-daily basis. 

I write, of course, of the slow burn coup d'état that the Trump White House/Campaign/Organization is attempting, and I use each of those terms generously. To suggest that they're going through the motions of their various legal challenges would, again, credit the Trump team with knowing what motions are appropriate for this chosen strategy. They do not. For over a month, it's been clear that our Big Boy President got beat by Joe Biden and the only reason anyone pretends otherwise is because there's a sociopathic narcissist who still has the nuclear codes and he never learned how to admit failure despite a career absolutely steeped in it. Last I checked, and I stopped checking a while ago, Biden beat that ass to the tune of 6 million votes and something like 6000 electoral votes (don't look it up), and the death rattle of this administration has long-since transitioned to pathetic, frivolous litigant mode.

​Reverting to the mean, in other words. 

One of the themes that I have taken to heart the most over the tenure of Trump's Presidency is how unremarkable it is to see a deeply stupid fascist at work. The most prevalent lie we're told about successful fash dictators is that they're all geniuses. It's the kind of lie that excuses the rest of us for our inaction, since the destructive force of an evil genius madman requires equally genius, strong forces to stop it. So instead of asking questions about the passive ambivalence of well-intentioned Europeans - and Americans - in responding to Hitler's actions despite the fact that he was clearly a vicious idiot, we unconditionally praise the forces that eventually brought the great and powerful Hitler to heel.

The Trump Operation, from top to bottom, both the private and public sectors of the enterprise, is one most-prevalently marked by operational failures. It's only gotten worse as the administration's lifecycle has marched towards its inevitable conclusion, with any and all staffers holding a modicum of competence have been pushed out by a President who not only demands fealty to himself, but also to his various flawed beliefs about the world. Stating aloud plain-as-day facts about the world is the type of thing that can bring you in the crosshairs of this baby-brained fucking loser, which is why White House staffers who are looking for work are being fired for daring to suggest that Trump won't be sworn in as President in January, why Chris Krebs was surreptitiously fired for not publicly denouncing voting security lapses that didn't​ occur, and why John Bolton is suddenly the stupidest person Trump has ever worked with as soon as he suggests Trump lost an election in which he was dragged and whipped in a burlap sack by a guy who just six months ago was barely able to form complete sentences in public. 

Surprised, I am not, therefore, that the parting legacy of the Trump administration is this post-election loss insistence on digging deeper into a field of Ls and ensuring that our lasting memory of this humongous shithead is going to be how funny it was to watch him and his ragtag legal team go into court after court and get absolutely worked. And because I've had the idea to apply some longstanding Fire Joe Morgan principles to the various legal updates that have come into the news since election day, I wanted to take some time to riff. For you. Out of love. 

Today will be the first installment, so if you have suggestions for further rankings and/or have tidbits you want to share about Trump's hilarious legal fuckbois, @ me on Parler.

Caveat: this list isn't exhaustive and I can't really claim any sort of accuracy in what may seem like reporting here. This is me cobbling together tweet drafts and my basic knowledge of the last two weeks of legal news with some google searching and, as needed, blatant fabrication for the sake of jokes. 

I feel like the picture is all I need to put here, but also that's superficial and prejudice to simply assume that my perspective on Marc here is justified by his punchable face and the look in his eyes that screams "YES, I KNOW, I AM FIRING MY HAIR STYLIST AS SOON AS WE'RE DONE HERE." 

Marc Scaringi was just added to Trump's legal team in PA this week, having replaced Linda Kerns, a Philly lawyer who revised Trump's federal lawsuit in PA to remove the request that 682k ballots be thrown out because they were processed without campaign monitors present because that request was entirely based on a lie. Kerns and others have moved to withdraw as counsel due to the apparent conflict. Can't have that! So, Scaringi was pulled into the fray and the early reports were that he would be adding that claim back to the lawsuit, because, sure it's unethical to plead claims that are entirely unsupported by the factual record as it exists in the actual world, but it's also unethical to do so as part of a large scale political grift aimed at extracting the most value out of MAGA donations as possible. With Marc Scaringi, you get what you pay for. 

Marc's first big moment on Team Trump's Litigious Fuck Squad was a five hour oral argument on the PA case yesterday, and let me tell you, he thinks it went GREAT and he thinks Rudy Giuliani is an amazing litigator. He licked Giuliani's boots hard and he licked them good after Rudy did what Rudy does best and made the President's legal position more precarious. Marc is fitting in just fine.

Did I mention Marc Scaringi is a conservative talk radio guy in Harrisburg, ran for Senate in 2012, was a staffer for Santorum? I feel like that's relevant here. 

Anyway, unlike the lawyers he is replacing on the Trump legal team, Mr. Scaringi runs an election law practice that makes him well-suited for the task of representing Trump's interests in these election challenges, and certainly makes him a great judge of whether Giuliani nailed it during Tuesday's hearing. What's that? [mumbles into earpiece] Sorry, strike that and reverse it. Scaringi doesn't know shit about election law and runs a two person firm with his wife, specializing in commercial law, and the lawyers pushed out of the PA team were actual election lawyers. Read: Scaringi has no fucking idea what's going on here. You can add "practicing in an area of law in which he has absolutely no experience" to the list of ethical breaches. 

Maybe he should just start a band and call it "Mark" and avoid the judicial oversight.

Then again, if he did that, we wouldn't get this kind of compare and contrast AP English problem.

HYPE TRAIN SOUNDTRACK

I don't have to justify this. Ever.

DROPPIN Rs AND SMOKKIN Ls

With more states legalizing the good shit lollipop, our matron saint Mary Jane, and with my current residence in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts about three years into its post-prohibition journey to the land of milk and honey, let's talk buds. I'm not sure what this space is going to be used for beyond just telling funny stories or dropping recs for strains or delivery mechanisms, but I guess that's enough? 

Anyway, one of the strains I've been gravitating back to - both in flower and vape forms - is my now-beloved Alaskan Thunder Fuck, aka ATF. Leafly's write-up, which tracks strongly with my experience, describes ATF as "usually present[ing] large, beautifully frosted buds with incredibly strong odors of pine, lemon, menthol, and skunk. Known for possessing a relaxing yet intensely euphoric high, it is also described as having a “creeper” effect as well as pronounced appetite enhancement." Also, it's a fucking GREAT name. 

Sativas are where I spend most of my time under the influence (distinct from the 1:1 medicated edibles that I take for anxiety management) and ATF is one of the best I have ever had. (I also dig that the vape oil manufacturer I have been finding for sale at my local shop makes oil that is very true to the flower's flavor palette, which is a testament to it not being fucking wretched black market knockoff garbage that was literally killing people last year.) If you like your high to be one that gets you energized and creative (if a little unfocused), rather than sinking into your couch like a useless slob, sativas are always going to be the go-to. Not that there's not a place for indicas and also being a useless slob every now and again, especially when dealing with chronic pain, insomnia or loss of appetite, but it's more of a special occasion kind of thing for me these days.

FINAL SCORE PREDICTION:

Bills 34, SF 17. 

I don't see the Niners scoring a lot tonight, and honestly you are out of your goddamned mind if you thought I was going to come back for a game preview for Monday Night Fucking Football and not pick our Bills to run roughshod over just about anyone in the league. LETSFUCKINGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
​

The Barrister

​I was ready to cry tonight. I've been readying myself for weeks. The Four Falls of Buffalo had been on the vague horizon for a while, and when the date and time were announced, defense mechanisms kicked in. Playful concessions of my likely emotions were placed in the public fora in plain view, taking up positions within the ranks among all the other hearts on all the other sleeves on all the other fans of the Buffalo Bills.

Public self-flagellation is something we do well. It's part of how we get by. It's part of why this blog exists.

Norwood's kick went up, the screen cut to some graphic or another, and somewhere in the subsequent moments, looking at the word "Bills" etched across the back of #12 as he leaned out and looked at our Falls, I knew that tears wouldn't be forthcoming. As much as I knew I might actually need a decent weep, and as much as I knew how much said weeping would be entirely justified by the catharsis of sitting through a documentary about the "what ifs" surrounding the best sports franchise I may ever align myself with in this lifetime, the catharsis didn't ask me for tears. It asked me for joy.

It asked me to accept the simple truth that there is nothing I have liked as long and as hard than the simple fact of being a fan of the Buffalo Bills and that this simple truth is not just ok - it's a fucking blessing. 

It's no secret that the team has been absolutely, unmistakably wretched for far longer than it was ever successful during my life as a fan, nor is it an original take. That wretchedness is the primary narrative of the 21st century for this particular sports team, and the corresponding narrative of a fan base waiting for a genuine shot to cheer for a contender is a close second. 

Those narratives are full of unfuckwithable truth, so this is by no means intended to dismiss them from our consciousness, but there is nothing that says we must be inexorably defined by them. We need not adopt them wholesale, as our own. 

Each of us came to this team in our own way, whether born into it or moved into it married into it or cheered into later in life, and something that gets muddled in the belief that Buffalo Bills football is part and parcel to life in the community of Western New York is that we still chose this. We, together in a chorus of thousands voices with varying degrees of optimism and skepticism, with varying degrees of knowledge and historical investment, with varying degrees of time and resources, chose to make this team part of our lives. We made this choice not out of expectation of success or the promise of championships but out of an unshakeable belief in ourselves, each other, our city. 

It may not be the most artful way to express this belief, but it's packed with that meaning and that big picture belief all the same. 

We can always choose - to watch or ignore, to invest or divest, to believe or bemoan, to hang our hat on a community of fans that sustains itself with joy and passion and Canadian whisky or to balk at a franchise historically and consistently incapable of putting this motherfucking jigsaw puzzle together. 

This team may have shot itself in the foot too many times this season, and it still may blow up in our faces, but in the meantime, they're still very much in the playoff race with four games left and a squad that has given us something to hope for if we so choose. They have hated municipal rival Philadelphia on the docket and a winnable game for every Sunday until January 3rd. If it all falls apart, as it likely will, it'll always be ok. It'll always still be the thing many of us have liked the longest and the most, and that's not nothing. 

Let's have some fun. That's what we do best.

Oh beeteedubs, I've been drinking.

The Apologist

​Any scenario involving the Bills breaking their 15 year playoff drought begins tonight with a win in East Rutherford, New Jersey. This will be a homecoming for Rex Ryan and the biggest test of his progression thus far as head coach. The stakes couldn't be any higher facing off against his former team. A victory puts the Bills at 5-4 and gives them an edge in a potential tiebreaking scenario that could be a huge factor when they face the Jets again in Week 17. A loss does the opposite and forces Buffalo to win at least 5 of their last 7 games to keep even a mathematical hope alive for the playoffs. Not to mention it would be a blow to the psyche of a coach and team that has yet to find consistency 10 weeks into this season.

While last week's game against the Dolphins was enjoyable, it didn't exactly leave anyone brimming with confidence. The offense put together their best game of the season, but the defense allowed Ryan Tannehill (who botched a snap for a safety for the second straight week) to throw over 300 yards while also giving up 100 yards on the ground. Lord knows we'll take a win every way we can get it, but the team faces much stiffer competition this week against the New York Jets. Their running game has been lacking lately, but Ryan Fitzpatrick is arguably a better quarterback than Tannehill and Brandon Marshall is indisputably one of the best wide receivers the Bills will face this season. If the defense continues to give quarterbacks enough time to read a book and find an open man, there is no season-scenario involving a trip to the playoffs.

Of course, none of the above is what anyone's talking about this week. All anyone can talk about is Rex Ryan. And that is totally by his design. While fans of any team he coaches for will have to put up with bad flags and questionable strategies, we don't lack for entertainment along the way. This week has been no different. From wearing a Clemson helmet to a Q&A to naming IK"Oed Geno's Jaw" Enemkpali a captain, Rex is doing everything in his power to take the weight of this game and put it all on himself. And that's exactly why guys like playing for him. The players know if they win, he'll let them steal the headlines for the rest of this week. If they lose, he'll keep all of the blame on his shoulders. It might not always be effective, but at least it's fun.
​

The Apologist

Remember when this was supposed to be the breakthrough year for Joe Philbin & the Dolphins? Or how confident we were about our chances of making the playoffs? Oops. Seasons that once felt so promising for both teams are feeling far less so coming off the bye week.

I was asked to and failed to write a recap after that Jaguars game because… well… sometimes I don’t feel like extrapolating some buried meaning from a giant pile of shit. And really, how much could have possibly wanted to read about that mess? After that awful stench in the second quarter when the Bills surrendered 20 points in a matter of minutes, I’m fairly certain I wasn’t the only person thinking of different ways to spend my Sundays for the next couple months.

But of course, the Bills being the Bills, rather than letting me cut the Yahoo feed and be done with it, E.J. & Co. rattled off 21 unanswered points, the defense grabbed a pick-6 to take the lead, and suddenly the postseason was back on!

For about 1 minute until Blake (F*%$KING!) Bortles rammed the ball right down our defense’s throat. I don’t care if we got flagged for one bad call or twenty. If the Jaguars drive 84 yards on you, it’s not the ref’s fault, it’s yours.

So here we are. 3-4. Not good, but not out of it. And here come the god damn Dolphins. And they don’t even have the decency to still be as shitty as they were when we faced them in Week 3! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST SUCK LIKE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO!!

So, no playoff talk can be taken seriously unless we take care of business this Sunday at the Ralph.

The Ronin

Where I work, we use an outside agency to clean the bathrooms and provide general maintenance duties throughout the building. For some reason, they've sent some seriously incapable individuals to do this job for years. Cleaning a shitter shared by 90 people is a fairly important - and simple - task. Somehow, though, time and time again we deal with people so incomprehensibly bad at holding a mop and emptying trash cans that you have to wonder how they made it this far in life. The last kid even broke a fucking toilet seat trying to clean some curly alfalfa sprouts from under it. I'll say it again - he broke a goddamned toilet seat. Anything is an improvement over this neverending cycle of smarmy creatures.

They recently brought in a new body to throw on the pile. This cat's in his sixties, can't hear a thing, and skips half of the shit he's supposed to do every day. We like him, though, because he he's a little quirky, he's got some wonderfully creepy mutton chops, and he does the essentials. After clearing the trash in the break room, before scrubbing the johns, he'll dance and sing some shit that none of us can understand a word of. We don't care, he's entertaining. We're cool with it, he does enough to get by. The guy won't be here forever, but he's all we need for now.

If that lede didn't make it blatantly obvious enough, The Apologist isn't available this week so I've been called up in his absence. The janitorial situation we're now all aware of is all too similar to the wonderfully incompetent American football team we all share an interest in, and that really saddens me. For years (let's say fifteen of them), we've been through some serious shit as Bills fans - most of it stemming from their complete lack of comprehension when it comes to finding and developing a quarterback. 

Jumping from clogged toilets like JP Losman to vomit-soaked carpet akin to EJ Manuel is really leaving us wanting here. We all do our part to get excited for the new guy, with hopes he's at the very least a slight improvement over the last. Unfortunately, most of them fizzle out before you get a chance to really give a shit about them, which is what happened to Manuel. This city is so thirsty for relevance that the majority of fans were calling for his head after a shortened rookie year. Given four more starts this season with average to terrible results, EJ was benched the reigns were turned over to journeyman and noted good-time machine known as Kyle Orton.

At every stop in his NFL career, Orton has been unspectacular if not boring, but still managed a .500 record which is a lot more than most in his situation could say. The dude took over last week and won us over with a decidedly mediocre game. Sure, he threw for 300 yards and touchdown, but he also threw a pick and a ton of short passes against a strong Lions defense. Point is, he did what he could and what his team needed. A snazzy catch by Sammy "The Glen" Watkins and a magical field goal by Special Teams Jesus were what decided it, not Orton's play. He moved the offense, took what the defense was giving him, and kept the club in it. That's all they need right now.

He's not ideal, and it's just one game, but he's (Christ... so, so sadly) the closest thing we've had to everyone's wanted in a Tom Brady figure in years. Speaking of Tom, he's coming to town this weekend with his New England Patriots and is more than welcome to go fuck himself. With the history these teams have had since Brady's been at the helm of the former doormat of the East, it's always satisfying to think about topping them and taking a win to wear as a badge of honor for the rest of the season. Every blogger's expert analysis when this matchup comes around is that the good guys have to get to Brady. At least that's what they write. Get them a few slugs of fireball, and you'll find that the more apt advice is to get him to the hospital. I'm not usually one who cheers for injuries to any athlete, but the thought of Touchdown Tom breaking his leg again in Orchard Park this Sunday got me to half mast quicker than David Carradine in a belt factory.

The Apologist

I can’t help thinking this is the most confident Bills fans have been with a losing record since #12 lined up under center. We’re all leery about feeling this way, but the fact of the matter is, against all logic and evidence, this season truly does feel different.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the entire league feels different. Peyton Manning & Wes Welker are teammates… in Denver. Rex Ryan has turned a buttfumble into a contract extension. The Patriots are beatable. The Chiefs are undefeated. The Raiders have a better record than the Giants AND the Steelers. And, hey, wait a second. So do we!

The Bills have remained competitive and even exciting with a depleted secondary, their best offensive weapon slowed by injury, and three different starting quarterbacks in the last five games. You have to tip your hat to Doug Marrone and his coaching staff. Sure, there have been questionable decisions made and somehow, 9 games in, he’s yet to win a challenge. But the attitude on the field feels different. Take the pick-6 on the goalline from last weekend. I’m not going to excuse it, but I will say that I love the guts of telling your untested, undrafted quarterback to make a hard throw in that situation. Sure, it walks the fine line between brave and foolish, but let’s be honest with each other. It was easier to get over a gutsy call on the 3rd & goal, than it would’ve been to watch another “try not to lose” approach we’ve seen over the last decade (3 straight runs for no gain and a field goal = Dick Jauron’s wet dream). And more importantly than all that is that he’s got the players believing in his plan. All you have to do is look at that same play. Tuel & Graham chased Sean Smith the entire length of the field knowing full well neither would catch him and all they were really accomplishing was tiring themselves out for the ensuing drive. But they weren’t going to give up on the play. No excuses. No quit. That’s the attitude Marrone has instilled so far. (His reaction to the play: “Situationally do you question the play call? No … Do you question the execution of it? Yes.”)

It’s far too soon to say whether or not this will translate to future success, but you can’t help feeling like little by little, the culture and expectation of failure that has been the foundation of this franchise for almost two decades is finally being chipped away and a new one is being built.

The Apologist

Long before there was hatred for Rex Ryan or Bill Belichick, there was Don Shula. A certain amount of respect was required for the only coach in football history to have a perfect season, but then Brian Cox would run into the stadium giving everyone the finger and our respect for anyone wearing the *ahem* orange, aquamarine, and white would vanish quite quickly.

Since that rivalry's birth in the late 80's, I haven’t reveled in beating anyone the way I’ve enjoyed past wins over the Miami Dolphins. Pick a reason: their terrible fans, their terrible stadium, their terrible new jerseys, Dan Marino. It’s just fun to watch them lose. And not just the games, but the abject failure of their organization to do anything right. They might’ve drafted their quarterback of the future last year. What’s the next smart move? Let your left tackle walk. Good call.

But somehow the Dolphins manage to wiggle their way into rose-tinted glasses status year after year. They just made Chad Pennington’s noodle arm their starting quarterback? That’s a playoff squad! Bill Parcells is stealing a paycheck? Watch them win the Super Bowl in a couple years! Ted Ginn Jr. was their first overall pick!? …Ok, no one thought that was smart and it was by far my favorite schadenfreude moment of the last decade. Clearly Brady Quinn would’ve given them nothing, but you used the 9th overall pick on a kick returner. Awesome.

During the 2013 Buffalo Bills season, the Scizz will be writing weekly game previews that will ruin your entire weekend. The last two seasons saw him using quotes from The Big Lebowski and Super Troopers to convey his feelings for this crapfire of a franchise. This year he'll be choosing quotes from many of his favorite films to get the point across. As always, it's 25% football, 70% useless garbage, and 5% luchador gambling picks. Here we go.....

The Scizz


Well that was silly, wasn't it? I sat here in front of the keyboard for a solid 15 minutes before I knew what to say first. After thinking about it I figured I would just share this picture:

That picture was taken just seconds after E.J. Manuel hit Stevie Johnson for the game-winning score. From Left to right standing is Joe from BuffaloWins.com, the Apologist, his brother Drew, & the Barrister. The schmuck sitting in front of them is me.

Let me preface this by saying that a minute later I was up and dancing with the rest of the fools, but in that moment....I couldn't cheer. I couldn't yell, I couldn't jump up and down, I couldn't fist pump like my lovely Jersey wife was surely doing. In that moment I was frozen. I never planned on just sitting there after the big play, in fact moments before I was bracing myself with a hand on Barrister's shoulder ready to react to either heartbreak or football ecstasy. Yet, when it all went down I couldn't move. I was frozen and just kind of sat there in disbelief, taking in the moment. I barely moved for about 30 seconds, simply soaking in this moment where E.J. Manuel became our hero. Right after I tweeted that this was the moment for E.J. to make us love him....he did. And the reaction of the crowd was nothing short of spectacular. Just youtube McFadden's/Bills/Panthers and watch the numerous videos (many of which with me, dancing like an asshole). Yeah, Ryan Fitzpatrick and J.P. Losman had some great last second wins, but something about this felt different. 

Am I going to get over excited and start yelling playoffs?? Fuck to the no. This is STILL the Buffalo Bills after all. But....BUT....seeing this team march down the field like that, penalty or not, and snag victory was something I can hold onto this season no matter what comes next. Go Bills.

Now onto to the Jets. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck the Jets. As it says in the title, I fart in the general direction of the Jets and their fans. With the exception of maybe a handful of semi-normal friends who happen to enjoy wearing that vomit/snot colored jersey, I loathe everything about the Jets. So much so, that on Sunday, while I will be tailgating my ass off with DGWU Sports & friends, I won't be staying for the game. At 3ish I'll be high-tailing back to the comfort of my downstairs bar to watch the game in peace, away from that hell-hole and the demonic fans that inhabit it. Last year was the last straw for me. When some Jets fans started berating an elderly Bills couple, and Yachtsman tried to interfere, not physically mind you, security rushed over and tried to throw HIM out. What followed was one of the greatest moments in drunken lawyering ever witnessed. The Barrister absolutely hypnotized the security guards, yelling at them about how liable they will be for kicking out fans, who by all means were just helping an old couple being abused by the local fans. Security basically said "watch yourself" and walked away. The man was hammered and he didn't reason with them, he belittled them and we still got to stay. Amazing. 

(Barrister here: I remember this going down a very different way, but hey, beers)

I should also mention (humblebrag approaching) that another reason I'm not staying for the game is the fact I'll be running 13.1 miles that morning in the Newport half marathon in Jersey City. I'll then be going straight to the tailgate after a quick shower, so I'm not exactly sure how my body is going to respond. Probably terribly, hence another reason to be close to home after ripping fireball shots for three straight hours. But if you happen to live near JC, come out and watch me rock my #SupportSally shirt during the race. Store716 was gracious enough to print a running shirt for me with the logo.

But yeah anyways, fuck the Jets and onto the lists: