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How I stopped worrying about Buffalo and Love the Blues


I’m from Buffalo bitches. And just like Rick James, Livia Soprano, Chad Michael Murray, Wolf Blitzer and Jack Brownschidle, I grew up on beef-on-weck, Hockey Night in Canada, the Buffalo Sabres and truly terrible weather 10 months a year. When the opportunity presented to move to St. Louis I thought shit, If Brad Winchester has a job, the economy in Missouri must be doing pretty good right? And coincidence enough, you guys have an NHL team that wears Blue and Gold, a shitty football team and a love for fried foods…it will be just like Western New York. Sign me up!

Depression set in immediately after my move. No, not because my high school became abnormally irrelevant, but because my Buffalo Sabres hockey support system had been compromised. TSN.CA blocked their online video because of my latitude. Hockey Night in Canada had been replaced with the Country Show on Channel 4 with the chubby line dancing. MSG Channel…no…the Buffalo version of the MSG channel…no way. Glad I signed up for the cable system that hates Versus! I was a man stuck with Sabres season tickets, living in St. Louis, with limited access to Thomas Vanek and Chris Butler. Life sucks, pass me the toasted ravioli.

So why did I become a Blues fan? It can be summed up in two parts:

First some aged wisdom…There is a saying in Buffalo that any asshole can get a job and live in Charlotte but it takes a real man to work and live in Buffalo. The real Buffalonians are still in Buffalo, they are good guys; wing eating, Labatt drinking, hockey fans. The weak move out, become fans of Riesling, the Bravo Channel and gradually start hating cab drivers, they are by definition wimps in training. The Sabres are for Buffalonians in Buffalo and not some mid-level finance executive ex-pat in Atlanta…not anymore…you had your chance buddy. Start rooting for the Thrashers because well, frankly they need you more than the Sabres. Myself, as much as I think I could remain a loyal Sabres fan, the lure of a 2007 Mosel while watching Top Chef is too much to comprehend. I need to stay strong and surround myself with local Blues hockey fans who want to talk about why we have 3 checking lines and 4 fighters. So if you see a Buffalo fan on 12/27, ask him if he is from Cheektowaga or Tonawanda…if he says he lives here remind him they are a pussy for moving and tell him to get with the program (However if you see a pregnant woman in a Sabres Paille jersey, she is my wife, please be nice to her.)

Second, an important observation…In Buffalo, Maple Leaf and Canadiens fans come down by the thousands when Toronto or Montreal is in town…literally 5, 6, 7 thousand drunk, Tie Domi, Darcy Tucker or Carey Price beer stained jerseys litter HSBC Arena 6 times a year. I always hated these assholes but loved the atmosphere of the games. Everything mattered; it was playoff hockey for the fans even if the teams sucked. Things were a bit different when Columbus or Washington came to visit…not as many visiting fans…not nearly as drunk…a bit fatter maybe, certainly not as passionate…guys wearing $350 Nash or Ovechkin sweaters with button down shirts underneath. You kind of felt sorry for these people in the out of town gear. Men without a home (or a date) so to speak…maybe they were stuck in Buffalo for the night while they waited for their Canadian pharmaceutical order to be filled…maybe they were related to the back-up goalie…or maybe just an asshole looking for attention. When I moved to St. Louis, I did not want to be that asshole. I did not want to wait 2-3 years for ‘my team’ to make a courtesy appearance. I did not want to be the chump in the Satan jersey looking for a fight. As much as I bled Blue and Gold for 36 years, now is the time to bleed well, Blue and Gold actually. A man should have 41 (or so) home games to consider attending with no exceptions.

When the penalty box shuts, the bench door opens. Let’s Go Blues…and if you happen to move to Buffalo, you will really enjoy the smooth cadence of Let’s Go Buff-A-Lo and the mesmerizing call by Rick Jeanneret when you become a Sabres fan.

Keller- the Genetic Mutation

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