I hate myself for loving you

I have set my children up for a lifetime of disappointment.  They are Buffalo Bills fans. I was born in raised in Western New York.  It’s in my blood and now theirs.  My 8-year-old son went to bed last night when the game was tied between the Buffalo Bills and New England Patriots. The first thing out of his mouth this morning when I woke him up for school, his eyes barely open, was,  “Did we win?”  Bless his heart.  Like most Bills fans he is the eternal optimist.  We may complain about the team after a loss, badmouth a player here or there, but we never give up hope.   They will grow up to be loyal and, perhaps, have a prescription for Xanax.

If you missed last night’s game, there was a moment when Tom Brady was exchanging words with a player on the Buffalo Bills.   After telling the defenseman “F*ck You” Brady preceded to run to the referee and complain that he was being taunted.  He may be one of the greatest football players of all times, but he is also a tattletale.  Here is the video with my 6-year-old daughter as the voice of the cheater, I mean, Brady.  Did I mention Buffalo Bills fans are a tad bitter?

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