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Levy's-Band of Brothers


BB2004

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I read the section that Levy wrote about the comeback. I was only 10 years old at the time and I was watching it at a friends house in Chicago. When it was 35-3 they turned off the television and told me not to watch anymore. I guess they might have thought that it was too painful. The few people who actually stayed for the entire game have something they can say that almost the entire population of the world can't say. They witnessed the greatest comeback in the NFL of all time. Although I've seen the highlights, I am jealous of the people who were there. I would say for any Bills fan who was attending the game, the emotions throughout the game were probably unimagineable. I'm glad that in the end the majority of the people in Rich Stadium felt pure happiness. Everytime I watch the highlights of that game, I still get goosebumps. Wow was that something special.

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A freind of mine (a Fins fan) made sure to call me at half time to rub it in. I remember Boomer E. Warning everyone that Frank R. has done this before and he was jabbed at by someone in the studio. I made sure that I called my friend back!

 

Jeff

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My favorite part of that whole game was seeing people who had already exited to the parking lot trying to get back into the stadium. After they were refused readmittance, somebody decided to scale the wire fence. Suddenly it was monkey see, monkey do, and everyone was climbing the fence. Eventually I think stadium security relented and opened the gates, fearing a lawsuit if some drunk fugger broke his neck.

 

I watched that game at Coach's in Macedon with my dad since it was blacked out at home. After Reich threw the interception to begin the second half, the bar emptied almost completely. So my dad and I moved up to the front row by the big screen and got the best seats in the house along with a few other faithful. When the tide started turning, people who had cellphones (this was 1993, remember) started calling everyone they knew and exhorting them to get their asses back to the bar. Some people used the payphones for the same purpose. By the beginning of the fourth quarter the place was jampacked again. Damnedest thing I ever saw. I never hugged so many total strangers in my whole life.

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I was 22 and there with my Dad. He pleaded and pleaded with me try to get me to agree to leave the game. Then I reminded him of the Roland Hooks Hail Mary game vs. the Pats that we left early for and regreted. He still wanted to leave.... I finally convinced him to stay only because he had spent so much on the tix and the fact that we had nothing better going on at the time anyway. Boy was he glad we stayed!

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I lived in Niagara Falls, so didn't get to see it. However, I was listening to the radio while playing around online (pre-WWW days; anyone here ever MUD?) the whole time. My mom said that it was hopeless, but I kept the radio on anyway. I was bouncing around the house by the 4th quarter and OT. Good times. :lol:

 

As an aside, I have that game on DVD. Check my .sig and PM me if interested.

CW

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Guest Guest_B-GUY_*

I was one of the lucky ones to have attended and stayed the entire game with several co-workers. When we arrived at our seats on the visitors side, there was an Oiler fan directly in front of us that was decked out in a Moon jersey and Oiler Hat complete with an intricate oil rig made of aluminum foil fixed to the hat. We looked at one another and agreed that there was no way that the oil rig was going to stay in its upright position during this game. During the first half nothing was said or done to the oil rig, since we had nothing to celebrate. We decided we would stay at least thru the 3rd qtr and then make our way back to Ra Cha Cha.

Needless to say we stayed and on the final Bills touchdown the rig was as flat as a pancake with the oiler fan stating that they got what they deserved . I still have the ticket stub to this day and plan on purchasing Coach Levy's book as a Christmas gift for my 11 yr old son. Go Bills !!!

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I was 22 and there with my Dad. He pleaded and pleaded with me try to get me to agree to leave the game. Then I reminded him of the Roland Hooks Hail Mary game vs. the Pats that we left early for and regreted. He still wanted to leave.... I finally convinced him to stay only because he had spent so much on the tix and the fact that we had nothing better going on at the time anyway. Boy was he glad we stayed!

141714[/snapback]

 

Too funny! I was there as well with my Dad but it was me who wanted to leave and my Dad who reminded me of the Roland Hooks game ...

 

Edit: I was also 22 at the time. :lol:

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I swear Kelly was hurt during the final regular season game at Houston. Marv's book says he didn't play at all in that game.

Does anybody else remember when Kelly was hurt - I believe it was a knee sprain.

141818[/snapback]

 

He was hurt during that final game in Houston. I think it was Ray Childress who rolled his knee.

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My Brother the Vikes fan and My cousin the Redskins fan were laughing at me and talking a bunch of stevestojan. Frank tosses the pic to start the 3rd quarter...more crap.

 

Bills TD, they still talked crap and I warned them 'no one circles the wagons...'

 

Bills TD, still crap.

 

Bills TD, less crap.

 

Bills TD I am screming, they come running inside and mouths are dropping.

 

There hasn't been much sweeter than shoving it in their faces when it was all over. I made the two punks chant 'Nobody circles the wagons...' about 20 times. :lol:

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I do not remember the onside kick at all in the 3rd quarter. What a call!

 

One thing I also remember (I was only 11, so I may be wrong) from the game is the interception we had in OT. I remember seeing players and the coaches of the Oilers going nuts about a pass interference call that should have been made on a Bills DB (i forget his name). Im pretty sure that the replays showed the DB interferring with Haywood Jeffries too. Anyone else remember this, or am I just making stuff up?

 

Also, did the slogan "You got the Reich one, baby" begin right after this game?

 

I admit it, I had a one of those t-shirts :lol:

 

--tornado

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True story:

 

I worked with a guy whose initials were appropriately: BS. Ultimate example of a metrosexual, though the term hadn't yet been coined. Got his nails done and sold shoes at Nordstroms part time, as a point of reference. Dude talked heinous amounts of stevestojan, no matter what the subject. Not a bad guy, though.

 

One time, he was throwing up on himself about his basketball prowess because the rest of us were reliving the previous night's pounding we had laid on a bitter rival (military setting). It was pretty obvious he needed to fit in (being a FNG and all), but we're talking a bunch of guys telling fish stories here.

 

I start giving it back to him pretty good and the guys are dying at him floundering for replies. Finally the degradation of his manhood had reached the point where he has to do something. So he challenges me to a game of mano-y-mano, right then. Outside to the court we go, in combat boots and BDUs. I schooled him. It was ugly. I can't even describe it in a way that did it justice. He didn't suck, he was just tailor made for me on the hoops court.

 

Barry, being a good metrosexual, couldn't live it down and tried like hell to get me back no matter what the setting. He had zero luck. Then the Oilers kicked the stevestojan out of us in that regular season finale. He was from Houston, don'tcha know? That week was a living hell but being the good fan I am, I kept my mouth shut so as not to anger the football Gods. Still, the prospects were not good. Very not good. No Kelly. No Biscuit. No chance.

 

I sit down by myself to watch the game (wife and kid are at some school thing). Door closed. No alcohol (wanted to have furniture and a TV when the game was over). I know what's about to happen.

 

Oilers score. Phone rings. It's Barry. It starts. I hang up after taking some grief.

 

We score kick FG. Whoopie. At least it won't be a shutout. Where TF is the bad weather? Damn.

 

They score again. Ring. Damn.

 

3rd Erler TD. Ring. Son of a B word. It's going to be a long offseason putting up with this guy.

 

One more for first half icing. I unplug the phone from the machine and turn down the message volume. Let the voice mail get it. I can get my wife to delete them when she comes home. I sit there all through halftime waiting for the opening kick. I tell myself we still have a shot to change the game but the opening drive is the key.

 

Reich throws a perfect pass that goes right through McKellar's hands and is returned for a TD. Holy Mary Mother of God what the hell did I do to deserve this? My wife comes home and plugs the phone back in. Asks me how the game is going. I look at her like she's a Mac truck and I'm an eight point in a WNY November. I turn off the TV and head for the fridge.

 

As I'm poking around, I think: "Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?" Hell no, it wasn't. I grab an Anchor Steam and head back for the comfort of my futon because I know the Gridiron Gods won't forgive me for missing the last chance I'm going to have to see my team this season.

 

It starts. TD by Davis. Suicide onside (thanks, Mark Pike). TD by Beebe. The phone rings. It's another dude I work with. He says: "Is there ANY chance of pulling this off?" I say "We need a turnover RIGHT NOW." Literally, as I'm finishing the sentence Henry Jones grabs the tipped pass and returns it. My buddy is cheering almost as loud as I am. Have I mentioned he's an Iggles fan? :lol: Not too many military ops guys like metrosexuals.

 

Now I "KNOW" we are going to win. I'm literally predicting the outcomes of drives before they happen. Things are good. We get it done. It's glorious.

 

Later I check the answering machine. 16 messages. All from Barry. SIXTEEN. All but one before halftime. None are very complimentary.

 

I left him one. "Hey man, Darin. See you Monday, partner." Dude actually STAYED HOME SICK Monday. Like that didn't piss me off.

 

I recorded the answering machine tape to a standard cassette and then took all the good Van Millerisms, Marv one liners, and player quotes from both teams off the VCR tape and interspersed them between the messages. Worked on it all night. I played them in an endless loop for a week with my boombox. It was beautiful in a way that description can't do justice. I still have the tape somewhere.

 

Don't fugg with the Gridiron Gods and don't piss off a BILLS fan when he's down.

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True story:

 

I worked with a guy named Barry Sheehan (nice initials).  Ultimate example of a metrosexual, though the term hadn't yet been coined.  Got his nails done and sold shoes at Nordstroms part time, as a point of reference.  Dude talked heinous amounts of stevestojan, no matter what the subject.  Not a bad guy, though.

 

One time, he was throwing up on himself about his basketball prowess because the rest of us were reliving the previous night's pounding we had laid on a bitter rival (military setting).  It was pretty obvious he needed to fit in (being a FNG and all), but we're talking a bunch of guys telling fish stories here.

 

I start giving it back to him pretty good and the guys are dying at him floundering for replies.  Finally the degradation of his manhood had reached the point where he has to do something.  So he challenges me to a game of mano-y-mano, right then.  Outside to the court we go, in combat boots and BDUs.  I schooled him.  It was ugly.  I can't even describe it in a way that did it justice.  He didn't suck, he was just tailor made for me on the hoops court.

 

Barry, being a good metrosexual, couldn't live it down and tried like hell to get me back no matter what the setting.  He had zero luck.  Then the Oilers kicked the stevestojan out of us in that regular season finale.  He was from Houston, don'tcha know?  That week was a living hell but being the good fan I am, I kept my mouth shut so as not to anger the football Gods.  Still, the prospects were not good.  Very not good.  No Kelly.  No Biscuit.  No chance.

 

I sit down by myself to watch the game (wife and kid are at some school thing).  Door closed.  No alcohol (wanted to have furniture and a TV when the game was over).  I know what's about to happen.

 

Oilers score.  Phone rings.  It's Barry.  It starts.  I hang up after taking some grief.

 

We score kick FG.  Whoopie.  At least it won't be a shutout.  Where TF is the bad weather?  Damn.

 

They score again.  Ring.  Damn. 

3rd Erler TD.  Ring.  Son of a B word.  It's going to be a long offseason putting up with this guy.

 

One more for first half icing.  I unplug the phone from the machine and turn down the message volume.  Let the voice mail get it.  I can get my wife to delete them when she comes home.  I sit there all through halftime waiting for the opening kick.  I tell myself we still have a shot to change the game but the opening drive is the key. 

 

Reich throws a perfect pass that goes right through McKellar's hands and is returned for a TD.  Holy Mary Mother of God what the hell did I do to deserve this?  My wife comes home and plugs the phone back in.  Asks me how the game is going.  I look at her like she's a Mac truck and I'm an eight point in a WNY November.  I turn off the TV and head for the fridge. 

 

As I'm poking around, I think:  "Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?"  Hell no, it wasn't.  I grab an Anchor Steam and head back for the comfort of my futon because I know the Gridiron Gods won't forgive me for missing the last chance I'm going to have to see my team this season.

 

It starts.  TD by Davis.  Suicide onside (thanks, Mark Pike).  TD by Beebe.  The phone rings.  It's another dude I work with.  He says: "Is there ANY chance of pulling this off?"  I say "We need a turnover RIGHT NOW."  Literally, as I'm finishing the sentence Henry Jones grabs the tipped pass and returns it.  My buddy is cheering almost as loud as I am.  Have I mentioned he's an Iggles fan?  :P  Not too many military ops guys like metrosexuals. 

 

Now I "KNOW" we are going to win.  I'm literally predicting the outcomes of drives before they happen.  Things are good.  We get it done.  It's glorious.

 

Later I check the answering machine.  16 messages.  All from Barry.  SIXTEEN.  All but one before halftime.  None are very complimentary.

 

I left him one.  "Hey Barry, Darin.  See you Monday, partner."

 

I recorded the answering machine tape to a standard cassette and then took all the good Van Millerisms, Marv one liners, and player quotes from both teams off the VCR tape and interspersed them between the messages.  Worked on it all night.  I played them in an endless loop for a week with my boombox.  It was beautiful in a way that description can't do justice.  I still have the tape somewhere.

 

Don't fugg with the Gridiron Gods and don't piss off a BILLS fan when he's down.

141917[/snapback]

 

 

That was beautiful !!

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I live in Houston, and was watching the game with a bunch of Oilers fans...as the Oilers ran up the score they started playing the Oilers fight song and some other songs about Earl Cambell...I just kept drinking...and drinking...and drinking...

 

The second half wasn't much fun for them...I was really drunk and really loud...I don't see many of those people any more...Gee, I wonder if it was somehting I said during the game...

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I live in Houston, and was watching the game with a bunch of Oilers fans...as the Oilers ran up the score they started playing the Oilers fight song and some other songs about Earl Cambell...I just kept drinking...and drinking...and drinking...

 

The second half wasn't much fun for them...I was really drunk and really loud...I don't see many of those people any more...Gee, I wonder if it was somehting I said during the game...

141936[/snapback]

:P Kinda like that commercial when the lone Fish fan stands up screaming in a bar full of Jets fans.

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I read the section that Levy wrote about the comeback.  I was only 10 years old at the time and I was watching it at a friends house in Chicago.  When it was 35-3 they turned off the television and told me not to watch anymore.  I guess they might have thought that it was too painful.  The few people who actually stayed for the entire game have something they can say that almost the entire population of the world can't say.  They witnessed the greatest comeback in the NFL of all time.  Although I've seen the highlights, I am jealous of the people who were there.  I would say for any Bills fan who was attending the game, the emotions throughout the game were probably unimagineable.  I'm glad that in the end the majority of the people in Rich Stadium felt pure happiness.  Everytime I watch the highlights of that game, I still get goosebumps.  Wow was that something special.

141636[/snapback]

I have my ticket stub and program from that game . A half of dozen times I threatened to leave and my wife said " well lets stay till after half time" Right after half time the Oilers scored again and my wife said " ,"you are right lets go" As I packed up my bag I was right behind the oilers bench as the miracle began , one touch down two touch downs three touchdowns. I looked at the vistors bench and all I saw was utter suprise and I then looked at Warren Moon who kept looking at the scoreboard and his face almost said "we are going to lose this game I dont beleive it, and I cant stop them "and he was right!!

I have attended many games too numerous to mention including the infamous SB 25 but nothing can describe the roller coaster ride of the Oilers and the excitement of that victory

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True story:

 

I worked with a guy whose initials were appropriately: BS.  Ultimate example of a metrosexual, though the term hadn't yet been coined.  Got his nails done and sold shoes at Nordstroms part time, as a point of reference.  Dude talked heinous amounts of stevestojan, no matter what the subject.  Not a bad guy, though.

 

One time, he was throwing up on himself about his basketball prowess because the rest of us were reliving the previous night's pounding we had laid on a bitter rival (military setting).  It was pretty obvious he needed to fit in (being a FNG and all), but we're talking a bunch of guys telling fish stories here.

 

I start giving it back to him pretty good and the guys are dying at him floundering for replies.  Finally the degradation of his manhood had reached the point where he has to do something.  So he challenges me to a game of mano-y-mano, right then.  Outside to the court we go, in combat boots and BDUs.  I schooled him.  It was ugly.  I can't even describe it in a way that did it justice.  He didn't suck, he was just tailor made for me on the hoops court.

 

Barry, being a good metrosexual, couldn't live it down and tried like hell to get me back no matter what the setting.  He had zero luck.  Then the Oilers kicked the stevestojan out of us in that regular season finale.  He was from Houston, don'tcha know?  That week was a living hell but being the good fan I am, I kept my mouth shut so as not to anger the football Gods.  Still, the prospects were not good.  Very not good.  No Kelly.  No Biscuit.  No chance.

 

I sit down by myself to watch the game (wife and kid are at some school thing).  Door closed.  No alcohol (wanted to have furniture and a TV when the game was over).  I know what's about to happen.

 

Oilers score.  Phone rings.  It's Barry.  It starts.  I hang up after taking some grief.

 

We score kick FG.  Whoopie.  At least it won't be a shutout.  Where TF is the bad weather?  Damn.

 

They score again.  Ring.  Damn. 

 

3rd Erler TD.  Ring.  Son of a B word.  It's going to be a long offseason putting up with this guy.

 

One more for first half icing.  I unplug the phone from the machine and turn down the message volume.  Let the voice mail get it.  I can get my wife to delete them when she comes home.  I sit there all through halftime waiting for the opening kick.  I tell myself we still have a shot to change the game but the opening drive is the key. 

 

Reich throws a perfect pass that goes right through McKellar's hands and is returned for a TD.  Holy Mary Mother of God what the hell did I do to deserve this?  My wife comes home and plugs the phone back in.  Asks me how the game is going.  I look at her like she's a Mac truck and I'm an eight point in a WNY November.  I turn off the TV and head for the fridge. 

 

As I'm poking around, I think:  "Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?"  Hell no, it wasn't.  I grab an Anchor Steam and head back for the comfort of my futon because I know the Gridiron Gods won't forgive me for missing the last chance I'm going to have to see my team this season.

 

It starts.  TD by Davis.  Suicide onside (thanks, Mark Pike).  TD by Beebe.  The phone rings.  It's another dude I work with.  He says: "Is there ANY chance of pulling this off?"  I say "We need a turnover RIGHT NOW."  Literally, as I'm finishing the sentence Henry Jones grabs the tipped pass and returns it.  My buddy is cheering almost as loud as I am.  Have I mentioned he's an Iggles fan?  :P  Not too many military ops guys like metrosexuals. 

 

Now I "KNOW" we are going to win.  I'm literally predicting the outcomes of drives before they happen.  Things are good.  We get it done.  It's glorious.

 

Later I check the answering machine.  16 messages.  All from Barry.  SIXTEEN.  All but one before halftime.  None are very complimentary.

 

I left him one.  "Hey man, Darin.  See you Monday, partner."  Dude actually STAYED HOME SICK Monday.  Like that didn't piss me off.

 

I recorded the answering machine tape to a standard cassette and then took all the good Van Millerisms, Marv one liners, and player quotes from both teams off the VCR tape and interspersed them between the messages.  Worked on it all night.  I played them in an endless loop for a week with my boombox.  It was beautiful in a way that description can't do justice.  I still have the tape somewhere.

 

Don't fugg with the Gridiron Gods and don't piss off a BILLS fan when he's down.

141917[/snapback]

 

 

Dude, I so want to hear that tape... any way you could upload it to the internet?

 

My story isn't as good. I was in high school at the time and had gotten in trouble earlier that week and my parents knew how to punish me right... no Bills game. I practically cried when my parents told me I couldn't watch the game. I could do anything I wanted except watch that game... but I found a loophole. There was no accounting for listening to the game on the radio. So when Sunday rolled around there I was with my walkman going through my pregame ritual.

 

I was exiled to my room to listen to the game because my dad was watching it on the TV. The game starts and suddenly I'm glad I couldn't watch the debacle. After the INT return I gently toss my crappy Walkman aside, stomp on it a few times and exit my room. As I walked out of my house, I passed by my dad who was sitting on the couch in front of the TV. Without a word, we exchange our, "I hate the Bills" look and I leave. I went to my friends house and we played video games for a couple of hours. The whole time I was lamenting the first half of that game. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow they were going to win. With the video game festivities finished, my friend reaches over to shut off the Sega Genesis and I am immediately greeted the glory of the final score...

 

I can't really remember my instant reaction, but I do remember my friend telling me to shut the hell up cause his mom was sleeping or some BS... I ran out the door, still screaming and jumping around like a true asshat. I then proceeded to run the three blocks home screaming, jumping, I don't think I've ever run so fast. When I got home I opened the door to see my pops with a big grin on his face, I just looked at him and screemed as long as I could, "YESSSSS! I LOVE THE FUGGIN BILLS!!!!"

 

I may not have seen that comeback, but I would have it no other way... they won, thats all that mattered. Ever since then, I remain convinced that the Bills are cursed by my witnessing their games. Whenver I'm watching a game that the Bills are losing badly, I shut off the TV... and hope.

 

Most of the time they still lose, but let me just say that the only game I've seen this year that they've won was the last qurter of the Jets game. All the games they've lost... I watched.

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