๐‡๐ž๐š๐ซ๐ญ & ๐’๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ ๐—ฆ๐˜๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐˜†๐˜๐—ฒ๐—น๐ฅ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐๐ฌ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐–๐ก๐ฒ ๐•๐จ๐ฅ. ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ•: ๐‘พ๐’‰๐’†๐’“๐’† ๐’†๐’๐’”๐’† ๐’˜๐’๐’–๐’๐’… ๐’š๐’๐’– ๐’“๐’‚๐’•๐’‰๐’†๐’“ ๐’ƒ๐’†?

I am a born and raised Buffalo Galโ€ฆ.in the best meaning of that term. I have spent all but seven years of my life in this community and will go to my grave believing there is no better place to live, work and play.

That said, there are a few trademarks of my "Queen City" personality that have made me stand out to people outside of Buffalo. One of the most prominent is my intense interest in sports. Particularly NFL football. Specifically the Buffalo Bills.

Whenever someone outside the 716 remarks about my pigskin passion, my answer returns the same: โ€œHey, I grew up in Buffalo. Bills football is a way of life here---man, woman and child alike.โ€ Sound far fetched? Let me explain.

In my preteen years, from September through the end of December, the highlight of our familyโ€™s week was listening to Bills games on the radio. I can still hear the team's announcer, Van Miller, excitedly calling out scores and praising bruising tackles---from championship runs through the teamโ€™s all-time worst 1-12-1 season.

Most of all, I can remember the first time I actually attended a game. It was September 2, 1965. I well into my 13th year--a fact that apparently made my parents believe I was worthy of an NFL ticket, albeit for a preseason contest.

I didnโ€™t care. I just wanted to go.

On that balmy fall evening, I walked down the steps of the Bills home field, War Memorial Stadium---to a seat beyond the dreaded view-obstructing poles---under the bright lights of my first Buffalo Bills game. Every sight, every sound, every smell of the experience is still imprinted in my DNA.

The Bills were playing their dreaded division rivals, the New York Jets. The game ended up a 31-10 Bills rout due to the two "Charleys": Kickoff specialist, Charley Warner: who ran back a 92-yard kickoff return for a touchdown. Receiver Charley Ferguson: who caught an end-of-game touchdown pass from backup QB, Daryle Lamonica.

That night marked the beginning of my lifetime of Bills memories, made all the more meaningful by the family, friends and fellow fans who have shared the teamโ€™s joys and agonies along with me. Included in those many recollections is the 1973 relocation of the team from the War Memorial โ€œRockpileโ€ to the upgraded Orchard Park (Rich/Ralph Wilson/New Era/Bills/ Highmark) Stadium.

It was an unsettling time, no doubt, but over the last 52 seasons, a whole new list of unforgetting moments have blended with my teenage memories into a special โ€œHey, remember that gameโ€ฆ.โ€ mosaic. Now, with the debut of the Buffalo Bills shiny new Highmark home, Iโ€™ve been reviewing the six-decades of those game highlights stored in my memories.

Itโ€™s been a fun journey, but it has also piqued my Irish temper regarding the team's new stadium: the staggering construction costs, newly established licensing fees, triple-digit ticket prices, parking charges, and captive-audience prices for food and drinks. Together, they add up to an exclusionary sum for so many in Western New York who dream of attending just ๐จ๐ง๐ž of their teamโ€™s games.

Honestly, itโ€™s gotten to the point that my passion for the Bills has taken a turn, recently leading me to declare that I will never go to a home game again.

************************************************************************************

On Saturday, August 15th, my daughter put me in her car and took me to the Billsโ€™ preseason opener at Highmark Stadiumโ€”her treat. At first, I railed against going, reminding her of my, โ€œnever to attendโ€ vow. In the end, her thoughtful generosity overcame my Irish frustrations and despite my misgivings, I went.

As I sat in my seat, taking in the sights and sounds of the magnificent new stadium, sixty-three years of Bills memoriesโ€”shared with family, friends, and communityโ€”came rushing back. Unexpectedly, my eyes filled with emotion that spilled over and onto my cheeks.

Looking around, I tried to figure out all that was stirring my heart and soul. Then some iconic wordsโ€”a Bills tradition reflecting so much of what I have experienced as a Buffalo Galโ€”echoed in my mind. And I understood...

โ€œ๐–๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐ž๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ž ๐ฐ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ ๐ซ๐š๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐›๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ง ๐ซ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž, ๐ซ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ง๐จ๐ฐ?โ€โ€”๐‘ด๐’‚๐’“๐’— ๐‘ณ๐’†๐’—๐’š, ๐‘ฉ๐’–๐’‡๐’‡๐’‚๐’๐’ ๐‘ฉ๐’Š๐’๐’๐’” ๐’‰๐’†๐’‚๐’… ๐’„๐’๐’‚๐’„๐’‰, ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ—๐Ÿ–๐Ÿ”โ€“๐Ÿ๐Ÿ—๐Ÿ—๐Ÿ•

#HeartandSoulStoryteller