Everyone of a certain age remembers the montage at the beginning of the ABC network’s “Wide World of Sports,” a popular TV program that ran for four decades. The 1970s version of the show’s opening featured athletes of various sports celebrating “the Thrill of Victory,” followed by a clip of a solitary young man flying down a ski jump, hands behind his back, appearing to have everything under control—until he didn’t. He falls backwards, spins sideways, and to everyone’s horror, begins to cartwheel out of control, hitting the wood platform, flags and spectators as he goes tumbling off and down the steep slope. The young man’s name was Vinko Bogataj, and his misfortune at an international tournament in Germany will forever be synonymous with the phrase so grimly intoned by the show’s announcer: “The Agony of Defeat.”
The morning after the Buffalo Bills lost — again — to the Kansas City Chiefs (aarrgh!!) in the AFC Championship game, I saw the “Agony of Defeat” on many faces. It was the Bills’ last hurdle on this year’s road to the Super Bowl, a prize that has eluded them for a long time. It has been more than 30 years since the Bills last participated in the NFL’s championship game, and of the four they played in the early 1990s, never once did they leave with the Vince Lombardi Trophy.
On social media that morning, I saw photo after photo of a dejected Josh Allen, Buffalo’s quarterback, having to explain why his team lost, the hurt on his face matched only by that of Buffalo fans who felt the loss just as deeply, if not more so, than the team. Every Buffalonian thought this would be “our year,” only to have their hopes crushed once again. Like Bill Murray in the movie “Groundhog Day,” we keep reliving the same nightmare.
It is hard to describe how much our football team means to the people of Buffalo. For years the city felt overlooked and disrespected, a poor relation to its glitzy and glamorous big sister, New York City. Even through the years of economic decline, urban blight, depopulation and infamous snowstorms, the Bills, especially during their winning seasons, remained the one great source of civic pride
The Bills were the glue that kept the city together after neighborhoods were carved into pieces, congregants stopped going to church, and family members left for jobs or warmer climes. The “Bills Mafia” as the team’s fan base has come to be known, travels to support the team at NFL games in other cities, sits through blizzards in Buffalo’s uncovered stadium, has crazy tailgate parties in frigid temperatures, and is known throughout the league for passionate commitment to the organization. After all, in what other town would the fans bring shovels and make sure the seats were cleared of snow so the game could be played? Bills fans take the team’s losses very personally—hence the look of devastation I saw on faces the day after the big AFC game, including my own.
But after weeping into my Monday morning coffee for a while, I thought once again about Vinko Bogataj. As the story goes, the ABC cameras followed as the young Slovenian skier was wrapped up on a gurney, solemnly pulled through the snow, and taken to a nearby hospital. Everyone was concerned that he had broken his neck and possibly worse, only to receive a phone call from the hospital. It was Vinko calling, saying he was fine and wanted to jump again!
It is a wonderful story of resilience—of losing publicly and spectacularly, and then brushing it off and thinking about the next opportunity to do it all again. That is the story of the Buffalo Bills and their fans. Disappointed but undaunted, Josh Allen will be back next year, leading his team to victory. (“I’ve got so much pride in our guys,” he said, in an interview after the game.)
Bills fans agree. “Let it hurt,” said one Bills fan, acknowledging what everyone was feeling, “but then let’s come back again tomorrow.” Just like Vinko Bogataj.
Are you a Buffalo Bills fan? If so, do you live in the area or are you part of the diaspora, distant from your old home town but a diehard fan forever with the Bills close to your heart? I’d love to hear your stories in the comments, below.
Moxie Gardiner is a writer, gardener, and traveler who grew up on the West Side of Buffalo, NY. In a previous life she was a journalist, magazine editor, speech writer, and policy wonk. Back in the day she made three solo parachute jumps, flew in an F-15 fighter jet, and crawled through mud pits in Panama. She now meditates and practices yoga. Virgin Snow is the first novel in what she hopes will be a trilogy. She is currently working on Book Two.