Tortured Bills are a reminder of KC Chiefs’ past. Why this run should be savored
Bills #Bills
When I went down to the hotel lobby here Monday morning to get a cup of coffee, I ran into some Bills fans checking out and got to speaking with one. For some reason, I asked her what she was thinking Sunday night at Highmark Stadium as Buffalo’s Tyler Bass went out to attempt that potential game-tying 44-yard field goal with 1 minute, 43 seconds left.
She didn’t use those haunting words ever-present in Buffalo history: “Wide right.” Maybe she couldn’t even utter them.
But she did say Scott Norwood’s infamous missed field goal in the waning seconds of Super Bowl XXV (in 1991) has stayed with her ever since. And that she could only assume the worst in a moment like that — as Bass made happen by indeed missing wide right to preserve the Chiefs’ 27-24 victory in the AFC Divisional Round game.
In the bubbling Chiefs locker room late Sunday night, Bass’ counterpart, Harrison Butker, thought about what Bass must be dealing with.
“I never root against kickers, so it’s unfortunate that he missed the kick,” Butker said, smiling and adding: “Good for the team. Good for the Chiefs. But as a kicker, I definitely feel for him, because we’ve all been there.”
Not just kickers, though.
Even as it becomes more faint by the year, it bears fresh mention that back in The Before Times, pre-Patrick Mahomes, Chiefs fans were stranded where Bills fans continue to languish: in a sense of constant dread that replenished itself with each wretched turn.
The stark point of contrast — between then and now for the Chiefs and their fans, between their flourishing experiences today and the tortured times for the Bills and their faithful — is cause for one last pause to appreciate this marvel before they travel to Baltimore to play in their sixth straight AFC Championship Game.
It wasn’t always like this.
It won’t always be like this.
Just the same, ascending to this stage has become a perennial truth of the Mahomes generation, which grows more astonishing all the time. Since his advent as QB1, the Chiefs have morphed from a franchise whose best times were nearly a half-generation past into one whose good old days are right here, right now.
Even after a precarious (11-6) regular season made them look vulnerable and summoned a fretfulness in Chiefs fans that still lingers.
Even when they’d already lost to Buffalo, and the surging Bills finally were getting them at home for Mahomes’ first career postseason road game and it just felt like maybe this was Buffalo’s time.
So much so that the nice woman I spoke with in the hotel lobby said her Chiefs-fan husband apologized to her for the loss, figuring it was about time her team had a turn.
Instead, the Chiefs now are 13-3 in the postseason with Mahomes at quarterback. With one more win, he will trail only Tom Brady (35) and Joe Montana (16) with playoff wins beside his name. At age 28.
For further perspective, consider that the Chiefs had won nine playoff games in their existence before Mahomes enabled this deliverance of three Super Bowl appearances and two titles in the last four seasons.
Also for perspective: Mahomes isn’t the entire team or the only reason for this, and I’m as guilty as anybody of shorthand that oversimplifies what he means in the grand scheme.
But his unique mindset and talents are self-evident. And his symbiotic relationship with Andy Reid is the singular force in the transformation managed by general manager Brett Veach and his staff and choreographed by Reid and his own exceptional staff. It’s also all fortified by a cast that includes future Pro Football Hall of Fame tight end Travis Kelce and what has emerged as one of the best defenses in the NFL.
As such, Mahomes is the embodiment of the new wave of anguish being heaped over a Bills franchise and fan base who once endured losing four straight Super Bowls.
As if that weren’t enough …
The Chiefs three seasons ago kept Buffalo from making its first AFC Championship Game in nearly three decades. Two years ago, they conjured the soul-crushing rally with 13 seconds left to beat the Bills 42-36 in overtime in a Divisional Round game.
And now … this.
On Sunday morning before the game, I had breakfast with one of my oldest and closest friends, Mark Rosenberg. He had brought his 14-year-old son from Florida to see his favorite team and quarterback, Josh Allen.
As we got ready to say goodbye, Mark’s son used the word “traumatized” for how he felt after the 13-second game.
On Monday morning, Mark texted to say his son is heartbroken and added that he “just wants me to tell you how much he hates Mahomes.”
While I’d submit that Mahomes, the person, is as or more appealing as anyone of his stature could be, it’s easy to understand the feeling fans might have towards their sports nemeses.
Not so long ago, that sense of futility and relative despair and perceived villains were a way of life for millions of Chiefs fans. That tends to hover from nearly two generations of piercing or hollow endings — games so excruciating that many of them took on nicknames in the very spirit of Wide Right.
Five years since the Dee Ford episode punctuated it all, the Chiefs are the it team, the one everyone else resents but wants to be.
If it feels like that was then and this is now, though, we’re still in a precious and inevitably fleeting time in the long haul. A time to be savored.
The Chiefs may or may not be good enough to win at Baltimore or go on to win the Super Bowl if they do.
And whenever this season ends, there will be immediate renewed speculation about how much longer 65-year-old Andy Reid will continue on and whether Kelce will consider retiring and if it’s possible Chris Jones will return after holdout of last summer. However it ends, they’ll have many personnel matters to reconcile or solve.
Even so, they’ll still be an unfathomable galaxy away from where they were just a few years ago. Back when paranoia was really out to get you and it was impossible to truly believe and often painful to dare to hope.
A feeling the Bills and their fans are living anew because of the franchise that once knew it all too well.