“Where would you rather be than right here, right now?"
-- Hall of Fame headcoach Marv Levy

It’s amazing what memories stick with you over the years.

I remember the slippers I was wearing the night of Jan. 27, 1991. I remember the snack I ate the night of Jan. 31, 1993. I remember where the new couch was in the family room not even nine months later on Oct. 23 that same year. I remember seven months ago where I collapsed on the floor in frustration and I remember the plastic chair I hurled across the room.

It’s also amazing that, with a notable exception or two, there is a chain that links all these recollections.

Failure. Professional sports failure.

My truth is I am a Buffalo sports fan. The emotional continuum of my sports life runs from dashed hopes to bitter disappointment to broken hearts. Small town big league sports fans suffer acuter heartache than big city fans. The Red Sox won a single World Series since 1918? Boo hoo. How many NBA championships did the Celtics win in a row? Eight? Thirty-two?

Did anybody feel bad for San Francisco Giants’ fans when they lost Game 7 of the World Series to the Los Angeles (nee Anaheim) Angels three years ago? No, because they live in a large, wealthy metropolitan area with five other professional sports teams (counting Oakland and San Jose). Five Super Bowl trophies also help.

Without further ado, these are the top ten meaningful (read: traumatic) sports moments in my life.

Western New York readers – get your Kleenex ready.

10 – Super Bowl XXVI, 1992 (Buffalo Bills v. Washington Redskins)
MINNEAPOLIS, Minn. – I think it was this Super Bowl that doomed the Bills.

Thurman Thomas lost his helmet at the start of the game. Andre Reed lost his sanity just before halftime. Jim Kelly lost his marbles in the second half. Something was going wrong in their heads.

Washington didn’t beat them by luck, pluck, a missed kick and “oh well, better try harder next time.” The Redskins pounded the Bills. The score was 24-0 before the Bills got on the board. Thomas only gained 13 yards rushing. The ghosts of perpetual failure were born this game. This game planted that seed of doubt that blossomed over the next 24 months.

I remember nothing about watching this game except leaving my grandparents’ house near halftime and hearing on the radio about Andre Reed slamming his helmet on the turf like a colicky baby, drawing a penalty and pushing the Bills out of field goal range. Perhaps subconsciously I knew there were more years of heartbreak to endure.

As an aside: it’s been fun to live in the D.C. Metro area and watch Saint Gibbs lose his halo. (This 3-0 start won’t last). But even when they reminisce about his “three Super Bowl victories,” this one never comes up. They talk about Doug Williams and Theismann and “Riggo.” But never Mark Rypien. I can’t imagine why.

Block of wood meet Mark Rypien. Mark Rypien, block of wood.

9 – NFL Wild Card, 2000 (Buffalo Bills @ Tennessee Titans)
NASHVILLE, Tenn. – Confession time: With the one obvious exception, I’ve never seen this game.

It was a Saturday afternoon game. At the time, I was employed by the local library and one of my shifts coincided with the Bills game. We had a television set up in the community room so we could sneak in and check on the game. Like a nervous father-to-be pacing outside the delivery room, I had not the courage to peek in. A 12-0 Tennessee half-time lead only dissuaded any peeking.

But the Bills, behind the skills of Rob “Now I’m Out of Football” Johnson, battled back and took a 16-15 lead with just seconds to go in the fourth quarter. Combing through Lexis-Nexis articles from January 2000, opinion seemed to be if the Bills could prevail in Tennessee, they’d have a better than average shot at the Super Bowl.

But then all of time, space and reality imploded. I imagine the sound was like when that guy got sucked into the airplane turbine on the first episode of “Lost.” Except, replace “guy” with “all elephants on Earth” and “turbine” with “gate to Hell.”

This play is well known to Bills’ fans. Kickoff. Wycheck to Dyson. 75 yards. Titans 22, Bills 16. Game over. “Homerun Throwback.” “Music City Miracle.”

“Bullshit.”

I don’t care how many Keyhole satellite photographs Al Gore shows Tim Russert proving it was a backwards lateral. I don’t care if Jim Kelly himself said it was a legal play. It was an illegal forward pass. The Bills should have won that game. End of story.

BULLSHIT!

8 – Super Bowl XXVII, 1993 (Buffalo Bills v. Dallas Cowboys)
PASADENA, Calif. – Fresh off the greatest comeback in NFL history, going into a third consecutive Super Bowl against a much-less experienced Dallas team, the Bills and their fans could be forgiven for harboring hope of victory. And indeed of all four Super Bowl appearances this is the only one where the Bills scored first, a two-yard Thurman Thomas touchdown run after a Steve Tasker-blocked punt. Could the dream of victory final be true?

Of course not. The rest of the game was a nightmare.

Nine turnovers that helped the Cowboys score the second-most points in Super Bowl history (52). If Don Beebe’s now-legendary effort to strip preening jackass Leon Lett of the ball at the goal line had failed, the Cowboys’ final score would have been 59, four more than what the 49ers scored against the Broncos in 1990.

What’s remarkable is by the fourth quarter this loss didn’t hurt. The destruction was so complete you gave up all hope. That made acceptance all the more easier. I remember joking around with my Mother and not merely for the sake of keeping up a brave face. I still cared, but the hurt wasn’t as strong as before. And besides, we had Bugles to snack on. Conical shaped corn chips make everything better.

The short-term consequence – another Super Bowl loss – was tolerable. But the long-term consequence – the birth of Dallas’ dynasty – was terrible. In addition to unleashing the horrors of O.J. Simpson, Timothy McVeigh and Kamal Derwish (look it up) on America, Western New York couldn’t choke Jimmy Johnson’s baby in the crib when we had the chance.

Sorry, America.

7 – Stanley Cup Playoffs, Game Four, Round One, 1993(Boston Bruins @ Buffalo Sabres)
BUFFALO, N.Y. – Ah, finally. A happy memory in this list (There aren’t many).

By the time the 1992-93 season rolled around, the Buffalo Sabres had not won a playoff round since 1983. Given that wonderful record of mediocrity, I had only the barest of interests in the Sabres. My greatest exposure to them was a series of cheaply produced perforated trading cards sponsored by a bread company.

Somehow – and I suspect a pact with the Lord of Lies is involved – the Sabres jumped out to a 3-0 series lead against the Boston Bruins. The Bruins, with dreams of ending their (still continuing as of 2005) Stanley Cup futility, were stunned. With Game Four at the now-defunct Memorial Auditorium in Buffalo, Sabres fans were primed for a beer-fueled frenzy of fun …. or a huge letdown.

After net minder Grant Fuhr (remember him?) went down with an injury, backup goal tender Dominik Hasek (I know you remember him) played the remainder of the game. The Sabres entered the third period down 5-3, but two quick goals set up the third overtime game in the series.

For whatever reason (maybe Montreal and Quebec were playing the same night) this game was not on Canadian broadcast television. For whatever reason (maybe a “Cheers” rerun was on) the game was only on American cable television, which we didn’t have. We left my cable-ready grandparents’ house at the end of regulation. The kids needed to get ready for bed, after all.

Laying on the couch in the family room, listening to the kitchen radio, I couldn’t see Pat LaFontaine falling to the ice, desperately winging a pass to a streaking Brad May. I couldn’t see May shake and jive around Ray Borque. I couldn’t see May, alone in front of Boston goaltender Andy Moog, hold the puck as he skated across the goal mouth from right to left. I couldn’t see May flip the puck over a sprawled Moog for a 6-5 overtime victory and a four game series sweep.

But I could sure hear it.

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! MAYDAY! BRAD MAY WINS IT IN OVERTIME Sabres’ play-by-play announcer Rick Jeanneret risked a heart attack by shouting across Western New York and southern Ontario.

The Bruins were shell shocked. The Sabres and their fans were overjoyed. In the next round of the playoffs, the Sabres were swept in four games by that year’s Stanley Cup Champion Montreal Canadiens.

Of course, there’d be greater Sabres success in the 1990’s … and great unpleasantness too (see item #3).

6 – MAC Tournament Finals, 2005 (University at Buffalo v. Ohio University)
CLEVELAND, Ohio – This game, played three years after I graduated from UB, was the first time I ever really cared about the school’s athletic program.

That’s not surprising considering since the University at Buffalo became a Division I school, their football team has consistently ranked among the worst in the nation. ESPN.com joked earlier this season that it wouldn’t be a Top Ten worst list without the Buffalo Bulls.

The basketball team, however, clawed their through NCAA recruiting violation sanctions to reach the MAC finals. A win and they are MAC champions with an automatic birth in the NCAA basketball tournament.

The Bulls stormed out to a 19-point second half lead – and then proceeded to fritter it away. My emotions descended from mild concern, to deep concern, to utter disbelief to embarrassed relief they reached overtime by the skin of their teeth.

UB star player Turner Battle sunk a jumper with mere seconds left in overtime, giving the Bulls a 79-78 lead. Ohio grabbed the ball, raced down the court, missed a shot, put back a rebound that almost froze on the lip of the basket before falling in to give Ohio a 80-79 comeback overtime victory.

(Read the excellent Zubazpants.com coverage here).

I collapsed to the floor. I threw a plastic chair across the room. Then I kicked the plastic chair.

I’m never caring about UB or UB sports again.

Unless they give me an honorary degree in twenty years, then it’s “Go Bulls.”

5 – World Series, Game Six 1993 (Philadelphia Phillies @ Toronto Blue Jays)
TORONTO – No, I am not Canadian. I was born in Niagara Falls, New York.

Yes, I was a Blue Jays fan. “Was” because they’ve been mediocre at best for a decade. Now I’m a lukewarm Nats fan. Anyway, it was a weekend night. My father and I were sitting at home watching the game.

Whenever I argue with my parents about when they bought the furniture set still in our family room, I always use this game as a marker. It was relatively new at the time and my mother would not allow us to rest our “greasy heads” (her words) on the armrest. We had to use pillow cases as covers to protect the precious arms from our boy germs.

I missed Toronto’s triumph over Atlanta the previous year, but was ready for this one. As I nervously fiddled with the pillowcase stored under the couch cushion, I watched Joe Carter hit a three-run home run in the bottom of the ninth for a 8-6 Blue Jays win and second consecutive world title.It was only the second time a World Series game was decided on a come-from-behind home run.

Why are the fun memories briefer than the painful ones?

The last good Canadian sports moment in a league Americans care about.

4 – Super Bowl XXVIII, 1994 (Buffalo Bills v. Dallas Cowboys)
ATLANTA – Tim Russert begged them to win.

During the final segment of that morning’s “Meet the Press,” Russert, with his Bills-colors-clad father sitting next to him, exhorted the Bills to victory.

“America, I will make you a deal,” said Russert. “If you cheer for the underdogs and the Bills win, I won't mention them for a year on ‘Meet the Press.’ If they lose, I promise you we'll be back for a fifth time - it's your choice.”

After the first half of the Peach State rematch between the Bills and Dallas, I actually believed the slide of three straight losses would be reversed.

I really did. I bet Russert did too.

Surprising everybody (especially Bills fans), Buffalo led Dallas 13-6 at halftime on the strength of a Super Bowl record 54-yard Steve Christie field goal.

As I took a shower at halftime (school in the morning yet again) I started believing I’d wake up the next morning and watch the 7 a.m. news roundup on the “Today” show to end celebrating Buffalo’s first world championship. The clip package would include ecstatic Bills players and coaches swarming the field that would lead into local affiliate video of mobs of delirious Western New Yorkers in the streets of Buffalo. The front page of the Buffalo News would scream “FINALLY!” in a giant banner headline.

Ha. Right.

Thurman Thomas, hero of Super Bowl XXV and punch line of Super Bowl XXVI, fumbled twice, one of which was returned for a touchdown.

The Bills didn’t score a point in the second half. You could see it on the Bills faces – they knew they were cursed. Final score: Dallas 30, Buffalo 13.

They finally knew – as did we – a Super Bowl championship was not in Western New York’s destiny for at least one generation.

Maybe more. Russert still talks about the Bills. Poor guy.

3 – Stanley Cup Finals, Game Six, 1999 (Dallas Stars @ Buffalo Sabres)
BUFFALO, N.Y. – I saw it before anybody else in my family room, but in retrospect, everyone in Western New York should have seen it coming.

On the strength of Dominik Hasek’s goaltending, the Buffalo Sabres were a surprising Eastern Conference Champion. Even more surprising was their Game One overtime victory in Dallas. The Sabres were the first Eastern Conference team to win a Stanley Cup Finals game since New Jersey Devils swept the Detroit Red Wings four years prior.

Game Six opened with Dallas one win away from winning the Cup. Sitting in the family with my father and my brother, I only remember a few things after the game went into overtime. I was so weary as it dragged on into the third overtime. I was so desperate for the tension to be over I just hoped that somebody – anybody – would score a goal.

It was the same thought process of a body treading water for hours, days. Eventually, the body doesn’t care how it happens: the body just wants the treading to stop.

Watching the on ice action one thing was abundantly clear: every second that went by exponentially decreased the Sabres’ chances of victory. The ebb and flow of the game was clear. The bigger, stronger Stars would push into the Sabres zone. The desperate Sabres would engage in a nerve-wracking defense of their goal and somehow heave the puck out. They’d wearily pursue, make a few ineffectual attempts at scoring and get bullied out of the Stars zone and back down the ice.

And then it happened.

I know I saw Brett Hull’s foot in the crease when his shot went past Hasek, but I didn’t say anything at first. (The NHL’s rule at the time stated if any part of a player’s body was in the goaltender’s crease at the time, the goal was illegal.) I was too stunned/relieved. At least the spirit-sapping action would cease.

But once the video started playing and the true scope of the disaster was revealed, those feelings of “Just let it end” evaporated. The Dallas Stars defeated the Buffalo Sabres 3-2 and won the Stanley Cup 4-2 because of an illegal goal.

NO GOAL! NO JUSTICE! NO PEACE!

By all accounts, this was an unprecedented development. Beginning with the modern sports age (1900 to the 2005 NBA Finals), no major North American league has ever decided its championship with an illegal play. Was Carlton Fisk's 1975 home run off the foul pole called foul? Were the Titans given another play after Kevin Dyson fell one yard short and time ran out? No, of course not. Sports fans should have confidence their championship game will be a display of, at minimum, competent officiating.

Not in the NHL. That's why nobody was shocked when the NHL became the first major sports league to lose a season.

Eat it, Gary Bettman.

2 – NFL Wild Card Game, 1993 (Houston Oilers @ Buffalo Bills)
ORCHARD PARK, N.Y. – The Greatest Comeback in NFL History. The entire country watched it happened, except Western New York. Perhaps suffering from playoff fatigue, Bills fans failed to purchase enough tickets in time to lift the television blackout rules. We huddled in the living room listening to the game on the radio.

Jim Kelly, Thurman Thomas and Cornelius Bennett were on the sidelines with injuries. After Houston returned a third quarter Frank Reich-tossed interception for a touchdown, extending their lead to 35-3, we decided to go grocery shopping, but ultimately waited out of loyalty.

Then a miracle occurred. Buffalo remember how to play football and Houston forgot.

The Bills proceed to score 28 points during seven minutes of the third quarter. Each touchdown shined an ever-brighter sliver of light on our gloomy gathering.

35-10 – Well, at least it won’t be a blow out.

35-17 – Well, at least this looks a lot better.

35-24 – Um, what?

35-31 – HolycrapHolycrapHolycrapHolycrapHolycrap.

Of course the trip to the grocery store was off.

The Bills took a 38-35 lead in the fourth quarter, thanks in part to a botched Oilers field goal attempt. But the Oilers successfully kicked another field goal to send the game into overtime.

By the time Steve Christie lined up for the game-winning field goal in overtime, the ghosts of field goals past danced in our heads (see #1). But I was confident they’d prevail, and they did 41-38. The Bills are the only team in NFL history to come back from 32 points down and win the game.

Obviously a loss would have meant no trip to Super Bowl XXVII. Maybe also no trip to Super Bowl XXVIII, but that is less certain. What is certain is that without this victory, the Bills would not be the only major American sports team to ever lose four straight championship games.

Is that lamentable record too high a price for this game? I don’t know.

But it was, by far, the finest Bills game I never saw.

1 – Super Bowl XXV, 1991 (Buffalo Bills v. New York Giants)
TAMPA, Fla. – It wasn’t a girl who first broke my heart. It was this game.

I was 10 years old when the Buffalo Bills appeared in their first Super Bowl against their downstate opponents – the first time two teams from the same state faced off in the big game.

For a boy of my age, this season was nothing but magical. Thirteen wins, a franchise record and a four-win improvement over the previous season when teams didn’t go from worst to first in nine months. The “K-Gun” no-huddle offense – a scheme that unleashed the most powerful offense in football, terrorizing the entire league. The best defensive player in the game, No. 78. And an entire community believing the 1990 season would finally be The One.

How could a 10-year old boy not fall in love during such a time?

And then, in the playoffs, to beat the archrival Miami Dolphins and destroy the Los Angeles Raiders in the AFC Championship game? Are you kidding? Was Ralph Wilson himself writing this story?

Each Friday at school during the playoffs would be Bills Day. The hallways would be filled with hand-made posters like “Squish the Fish” or “Bo (Jackson) Don’t Know Snow.” Everyone would come dressed in Bills clothes.

Ten days before the Super Bowl, the United States began its (first) campaign against Saddam Hussein. I knew what was going on in the world, but as a kid, it didn’t affect me like the adults. Consequently, my thoughts leading up to Super Bowl Sunday were filled with sure-to-be glory.

Not that I wasn’t nervous. That Saturday, I sat with my copy of Nintendo Power (Star Tropics was on the cover) watching the day before coverage with knots in my stomach.

Before my Mother, brother and I went over to Grandma’s house, Mom bought us Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle figures. I got the psychotic pizza chef who had a pizza box for a leg. I swear I’m not making that up.

The Giants scored first, a field goal. I remember being annoyed with my Mom and Aunt because they teased us. The Giants scored first, so they’ll win, according to their depressingly prescient bantering.

The Bills battled to a 12-10 halftime victory, but since they scored 41 first half points against the Raiders, this score was not confidence inspiring.

We went home at halftime and changed for bed (getting ready for school is a constant theme in these stories). The Giants had a 17-12 lead when Thurman Thomas made one of the best plays I’ve ever seen.

Moving from right to left across the field and driving into New York territory at the start of the fourth quarter, Thomas accepted Jim Kelly’s handoff and ran into a pile of bodies. Then, magically (at least to me), he bounced up to the outside and ran 31 yards across the top of the screen for the go ahead touchdown, 19-17.

The Giants kicked another field goal and the Bills got the ball back on their 10-yard line with just over two minutes to go and one timeout.

Kelly drove the Bills down the field with an effort that rivaled what Joe Montana did two years earlier. During this drive I realized the traitorous nature of my slippers, of all things. For whatever reason, my mother bought me football slippers, but not Bills. For whatever reason, she bought me Giants slippers. I quickly threw them over the back of the couch.

The Bills’ drive stalled at New York’s 30-yard line. The kicker, Scott Norwood, trotted on the field for a 47-yard field goal.

I threw myself face first into our living room’s armchair and kneeled. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed hard. Even as I type these words I can feel the ghost of that desperation drift across my memory. Even my Mother knew how important this was, if only for her boys’ happiness than anything else.

Makeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeitmakeit

I don’t remember my reaction after it went wide right. My Father called from work and tried to console me. I stayed collected – until I was in bed.

Then I cried myself to sleep.

For weeks and months afterwards, I was torn by two emotions. On the one hand I couldn’t’ bear to think of it, because of the pain. On the other hand, if I stopped thinking about it, that meant I accepted the result. There would be no way to change it. Of course, there wasn’t anything I could do to change it. But that emotional impulse remained.

For years, I couldn’t watch the video. Now, it’s just a dull ache that only throbs occasionally.

It’s funny. At the time, we felt like it was a horrible turn of events but, “We’ll be back next year.” Governor Mario Cuomo, appearing at the day-after rally in downtown Buffalo, held up a T-Shirt proclaiming the Bills Super Bowl XXVI Champions (see item #10). Now we see it as the opening act of a grand tragedy and the last, best chance for glory.

One thing is certain: when (if) Buffalo ever wins the Super Bowl, man, have we earned that party.

Questions? Comments? What team broke your heart? E-mail me at mlucinski@yahoo.com

Michael Lucinski works in Washington, D.C. He received a B.A. in Political Science from the University at Buffalo and a master’s from the George Washington University. No goal, no peace.