There is no storyline in sports more compelling, at least to this humble sportswriter, than a team or individual historically the victim of postseason heartbreak finally exorcising its demons and winning the big one.
More than great dynasties, more than unexpected upsets, the reversal of a longstanding narrative to secure a championship makes for the best sports theater. Think the Red Sox and Cubs breaking their curses. Alex Ovechkin and the Capitals winning the Stanley Cup at last. John Elway hoisting the Lombardi Trophy after losing the Super Bowl three previous times.
And, of course, the Nationals finally getting over the hump in 2019 after repeatedly losing in the National League Division Series in soul-crushing fashion.
It’s why I find the Buffalo Bills one of the most compelling franchises in any sport and why I was so intrigued by their AFC Divisional Playoff matchup Sunday against the Kansas City Chiefs. Nobody has suffered the kind of playoff heartbreak the Bills have suffered in their history. Four consecutive Super Bowl losses in the 1990s. The Music City Miracle. And then three straight playoff losses the last three seasons, two of them to the Chiefs (including one of the all-time heartbreakers two years ago in Kansas City).
So when it happened again Sunday night, when Tyler Bass pushed a 44-yard field goal attempt wide right to seal yet another dagger of a playoff loss, I couldn’t help but feel devastated for “Bills Mafia,” which at this point has to be numb to the experience of Lucy pulling the ball away at the last second, leaving them flat on their backs yet again.
I also try to convince myself those fans, some unknown day in the future when the Bills do actually win their first Super Bowl, will appreciate it more because of all the heartbreak they suffered along the way.
But is that actually true? Is a championship celebration sweeter the more heartbreak you suffered leading up to it, or is it just as sweet to win it all the first time you get the opportunity?
I’ve long believed October 2019 was special not only because of the way the Nationals stayed in the fight and kept coming back to win in such dramatic fashion, but because of the four NLDS losses that came before it.
The first such NLDS loss – a blown 6-0 lead to the Cardinals in Game 5 in 2012 – was the worst of them all. Let’s suppose they hadn’t imploded that night. What if they won that game, then went on to beat the Giants in the NL Championship Series and the Tigers in the World Series? Would that have felt as meaningful to you?
Did Matt Williams’ decision to pull Jordan Zimmermann in the ninth inning of Game 2 of the 2014 NLDS, agonizing as it was, actually make you appreciate the 2019 World Series more?
Were the blown leads, mental mistakes and questionable managerial decisions in Game 5 of both the 2016 and 2017 NLDS acts of suffering that were necessary before you could truly savor the joy of October 2019?
I would argue the answer to all of that is yes. Yes, the heartbreak of 2012, 2014, 2016 and 2017 made the ecstasy of 2019 more meaningful. It’s impossible to accept that in the moment, of course. But once the entire journey is complete, it’s easier to turn around, look back at the winding, bumpy road it took to reach this beautiful place and appreciate the role it played.
Sure, a parade in 2012 would’ve been nice. Multiple parades throughout the decade would have been wonderful. But would they have meant as much to you as the one parade that did take place in 2019?
Heartbreak is as much a part of the sports-watching experience as jubilation is. The heartbroken folks of Western New York may not want to hear that this morning. But one of these years, when it finally comes together for them, they might just be thankful for everything they had to endure to reach the pinnacle at long last.