We warp spacetime with our superpowers. Some heroes are unaware of their capabilities. Time’s flying by quickly enough that each week seems like its own season. Buffalo Bills fans didn’t see an infuriating defeat on the docket, so at least life’s still somewhat unpredictable.
Using the season to scout for the next is tough when a linebacker’s collision ruins your range of motion. Bills fans feel the emotional equivalent of Josh Allen’s pain.
The primary value of 2018 was supposed to be letting a new quarterback get used to riding without training wheels. With a spill that’ll keep him off his bicycle for a few weeks, we’re forced to be patient about being patient. Learning to balance is impossible without actually trying it if you thought this year was frustrating before.
It’s tough thinking ahead after literally throwing away a decent chance at an increasingly rare win. If nothing else, a strange and largely painful year makes clear the value of forgetting everything. Bills fans thankfully don’t have to dispose of too many pleasant recollections.
Nathan Peterman just threw another interception. A performance that regrettable turns philosophical. Should fans feel bad for someone who flamed out that spectacularly? At some point, observers should instead feel bad for fans who’ve had to watch inadequate substitutes flail.
I’m presently even less charitable than usual. An athlete getting paid handsomely for ugly play doesn’t deserve to wallow with a Cookie Puss cake and a spoon. I similarly have no sympathy for Ben Affleck failing to express human emotions.
A lack of practice can’t excuse forgetting aces while counting cards. Nice guys can have 29.9 passer ratings. To be fair, Peterman’s most recent infamous performance was infinity percent better than his opening-game 0.0. That’s just about enough excuses for an adult in the second year of his career who can’t stop throwing to the wrong color.
Fans switch from trusting the process to trying to process what coaches see in maintaining this relationship.
There’s a difference between keeping options open while Allen’s out and genuinely thinking Peterman could outgrow this. This staff’s bizarre dedication to maintaining he’s an undiscovered treasure reflects a stubbornness that might eventually lead to getting released by ownership.
A team with a promising young quarterback was rattled by a ferocious pass rush. I forget which one I mean. Houston gets Buffalo’s struggles because they are their own like the meme of Spider-Man pointing at himself. The 2-3 Bowl showed which team is transitioning better. The Texans are stumbling while dashing while the Bills work on tying those tricky laces.
You claim physics prevent magic yet can’t explain the spell that allowed the Bills to be close. Hope gave out simultaneously with Allen’s joint when the universe elbowed us in the gut. I remember those few seconds where Peterman looked like he was winning the preseason.
Allen is too young to be wandering the Earth alone like a kung fu monk. He could only evade pass rushers on his own for so long. Roster transition is no excuse for neglecting to help a quarterback at either the start or finish of a pass. Kelvin Benjamin should look interested if he’s on an unpaid internship, much less getting paid this much in a contract year.
Every assessment of Allen is qualified by how he must fear for his life like he threw a football that broke John Wick’s window. If the front office drafted him with the hope that his biggest gains would come while scrambling to avoid pulverization, then they’ve done a good job.
Relationships are about maintaining love despite imperfections, as our football spouse insists on proving. Everything looks promising but all three phases. This is a reminder that Steve Tasker played for a franchise that allowed a punt block and can’t field kicks.
Can sacks count for points? The proposed rule change is currently opposed by 31 teams, so the Bills are going to have to figure out another way to score. A frightening and awesome pass rush can’t win games on its own. Enduring the non-Jerry Hughes portions of Bills games is like watching a Saturday Night Live sketch in 1995 that doesn’t feature Chris Farley.
This moody franchise fluctuates like Robert Smith’s moods. I’m certain the Cure frontman is a big gridiron football fan. Reckless swings during a game are reminiscent of a season where every Sunday is self-contained. The lack of continuity between episodes means David Lynch must be directing. Allen’s hurdle feels like eons ago. Remember Peterman starting a game? That was last month even if it feels like last century.
A capricious season befits our social media-style world emphasizing short-term memory where you’ve already forgotten the start of this sentence. The struggle to recall is actually a blessing for a team that demands forgetfulness.
This year is conducive to moving on quickly. Mad Dog 20/20 creates fewer missing scenes than the 2018 Bills. We’re thankfully forgetting curious play-calling instead of fighting cops while shirtless at Taco Bell. I wish I could apply the blackout retroactively so I didn’t wake up screaming about 2007’s Monday night game against the Cowboys. They wouldn’t have tried the onside kick if they made the two-point conversion, as I note around 4 a.m.
This season was supposed to offer cardiac relief. But the stupidest of organs got pulled in again. Hearts are suckers for drama. They’re the opposite of brains in terms of memory retention. Fall for your favorite team again? Why not: it sounds fun! It’s impossible there’ll be horrid pain straight ahead. That’s why the cardiac organ should be relegated to the special teams duty of keeping the beat.
But we’ll keep following our dim emotions, in part because we avoid focusing on trauma as a survival mechanism. A cerebral approach would help diagnose patterns. Consistency is overrated if you’ve been unfortunate enough to see more than one Transformers movie.
With quarterback training postponed, the fourth loss was this week’s least worst setback. We don’t know how the Bills will disappoint us next. This club would be better off disregarding how they managed to get to this point. When you’ve won one-third of the time, amnesia is a gift. Forget I said anything.
Editor’s babble: This post is pure gold. No one captures the angst of a Bills fan better than Anthony Bialy. Thanks for helping us get through another week as a Bills fan. You can find Anthony on Twitter @AnthonyBialy.