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I’m a Buffalo Bills fan. I know I’m writing for a basketball blog, and this is the second time I’ve mentioned a different team sport, but if you’ll bear with me for a second, it’ll come together shortly.
The Bills — if you don’t know — haven’t made the playoffs since I was in high school. That year, we lost to the Tennessee Titans in a game many still remember as the “Music City Miracle.” It was not miraculous for Bills fans.
The brutal twist of fate on that January day in 2000 came after a decade where I spent my formative years detesting Super Bowl Sunday. The Bills lost four straight Super Bowls from 1990-1993. It was a trying time for a young kid from upstate New York who worshipped sports. But I learned a lot from those years and from the ensuing playoff drought we’re currently in the middle of, going back to that horrendous loss in Nashville.
I offer this preface as a way to show you my bonafides as a fan. I have stuck with my Bills through a lot and I have come out with a new appreciation for cheering on a loser.
By most accounts — including most, if not all, of the writers on this site — the Magic are not going to be very good next year. Sure, Tobias Harris offers hope, and ‘Dipo might be a two-way star in the next half-decade, but for the next six months, Magic fans will be faced with a whole lot of losing.
While you never want to get used to the idea of losing, something that has unfortunately stricken a large swath of Bills fans, you also don’t want to be a grouchy, glass-half-empty fan, either, forever looking at an upcoming game as a chance to sob alongside the Nightengale. You should see the beauty in the Nightengale’s song — like Coleridge did, but minus all that opium.