Bills Block

Bills Block

Say what you will, but this kid has got passion.

I haven’t written anything for Emails From Doug Whaley in quite some time. I don’t think it was writer’s block. Truth is, I haven’t been inspired.

Obviously inspiration can come from different places. Some perfectly normal people seem inspired by perfectly happy things. And, that’s great—those people can eat a dick. For others like depressed people of eastern European vintage, inspiration most assuredly comes from a dark, dark place. That’s why I had to stop writing in June: things in Buffalo Bills land were going far too well.

Let’s go back to a more innocent time for a second. It was late April. The draft was looming, the Buffalo Bills were going to take a quarterback, our GM spoke still spoke with a comical southern accent. Things were going well for those of us used to things going terribly.  That’s why I found it oddly comforting Foghorn Leghorn Buddy Nix was still in command of the draft. I had a nice little rut built up and I wasn’t going to let something like a carefully chosen draft pick ruin something like that. Truth be told, I wasn’t worried much since speculation was running rampant Nix would do something stupid, like draft Head Coach Doug Marrone’s college QB Ryan Nassib. Things weren’t looking too good for the franchises long term success, but I felt great. I knew that whatever terrible decisions the Bills would make at the draft would at least create a comedy gold rush.

But lo and behold, Buddy Nix pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. The old southern huckster proved to be just as slick as the rest of ’em by unexpectedly drafting E.J. Manuel. I, like the rest of the world, was shocked because we were expecting that in lieu of a starters cap, Buddy would drape a confederate flag over Ryan Nassib.

Soon thereafter the good news kept coming. Stephon Gilmore? He’s the next Darelle Revis. Da’Rick Rogers? He reminds scouts of a young Terrell Owens. Kevin Kolb? No one said anything nice about him, but at least he was still a model of perfect health.

Suffice it to say, things were going well. Deep down, I knew something was up. But I chose to ignore it. Instead of thinking too much, I kept writing puff pieces championing the Bills brain trust. It was clear by that point that I had become pacified by all the positive Bills energy.

Despite all the positive energy, I had a minor epiphany involving Damarco Sampson. As I was almost finished writing 200 words about the Buffalo Bills picking up 2011 7th round pick off waivers, I started getting second thoughts: “Why am I about to write a 200 word post championing the waiver acquisition of one, Demarco Sampson?” Realizing I had sunk to a new low, I deleted the whole damn thing and decided to take an indefinite hiatus from my tiny part of the internet.

Some time passed and Bills training camp started. I was following it ever so slightly. First EJ Manuel got hurt. NBD I thought at first. He will be back by week 1. Next, Kevin Kolb went down. Instead of realizing that the Buffalo Bills training camp was clearly the setting of the next installment of the Final Destination franchise, I brushed it off. I mean what’s the big deal about Kevin Kolb getting hurt? What’s next? Roger Goodell stealing old age pensions. Not to mention, the whole Da’Rick Rogers debacle didn’t inspire me all that much. I managed to convince myself that I will enjoy watching Chris Hogan get stopped short of a first down on 4-yard hitches.

But then it hit me in the form of an NFL Network ticker headline: Stephon Gilmore out for 6-8 weeks. The fake tit that had been pacifying me officially had run dry. However, instead of crying like some dumbass baby, I decided to channel my rage more maturely.

The next part kinda played out like the inciting incident of a Rambo movie. You know the set up by now: Colonel Trautman travels out to a remote place to tell Rambo that he’s got a job for him to do. “These people need you,” I could hear the voices in my head. Instead of seeking professional help, I knew what I really had to do: write about the clusterfuck that became the Buffalo Bills preseason in a roundabout way.

So thank you Kevin Kolb: for being you.

Thank you, Da’rick Rogers: for also being you.

And thank you, E.J. Manuel: for the inevitable #tueltime hashtag trending worldwide during week 1.

Last but not least, thank you Stephon Gilmore: for teasing us with your skills and promptly getting injured just mere weeks before you could have driven a stake through Tom Brady’s career.

If I have forgotten anyone, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t have done this alone. Thanks to all of you my “Bills Block” is officially gone.

It’s good to be back.



15 thoughts on “Bills Block

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