Welcome to Pegulaville
Three years ago today, the Buffalo Bills were sold to Terry and Kim Pegula. To commemorate the third anniversary of the sale, please enjoy this piece I wrote on October 14, 2014 to express my feelings about it.
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My entire life, I have been told many things; there is such
a thing as too much chocolate in your chocolate milk, you can’t wear gym shorts
when it’s cold outside, and that the Buffalo Bills would skip town before I
died. Unlike the first two points, I actually believed the third one. Using
half a container of Nesquik in one sitting was the norm, and comfort always
trumped cold, but it was almost a foregone conclusion in my mind and in just
about everyone else’s that the Bills would leave to go to a more popular market
like Los Angeles. When Ralph Wilson passed away in March, those fears were
amplified. The uncertainty of not knowing how much longer they’d be around was
a constant point of worry. Then, after months of Bon Jovi bans and Donald Trump
rhetoric, the patron saint of Buffalo saved us all.
--
Before Tom Golisano put the Sabres up for sale, I had never
heard of Terry Pegula. The idea of some oil tycoon who had seemingly no
relevant sports experience buying the Sabres made me skeptical, but as the
process continued, and people like Jim Balsillie tried to uproot the team, the
idea of a humble, passionate hockey fan making his lifelong dream come true
really began to appeal to me. After all, I’d always said if I ever won the
lottery, I would try to buy the Buffalo Bills. So when the Pegula family finally
became the owners of the Sabres, the thrill of being a fan was never as great
as in those days and weeks. Terry had been able to give us more than anyone
else had in my 17 years of sports fandom: peace of mind. The assurance that I
could root for the Sabres without fear of them moving to Hamilton or Seattle
was bliss.
Compare that to the nagging perpetual dread and uncertainty
that loomed over the Bills. The recent agreement with Rogers Communications to
play games in Toronto was okay with me because we were getting more money from
the deal than we would if we played our entire home slate at the Ralph. Of
course, many people felt the agreement was the first step towards relocation. I
didn’t oppose it because as long as Ralph was around, that wouldn’t happen. All
that changed on December 16, 2012, when I went to the Bills-Seahawks game at
the Rogers Centre.
The game itself was a disaster, with Russell Wilson and
ex-Bill Marshawn Lynch pummeling Buffalo by a 50-17 margin. The majority of the
crowd on hand didn’t seem to mind much, however, because it was primarily made
up of Seahawks fans or Toronto locals who were rooting against the ‘home team.’ After the game mercilessly ended and I headed back down the QEW, I made a
promise to myself that I would never support the Toronto Series. No more
merchandise, no more tickets, not even a positive mention about the game I had
attended (there were none to mention anyway). There was no way I would be quiet
while it looked like the Bills could be shipped off in U-Hauls.
--
In what may seem like an overreaction to circumstances
beyond my control, after Ralph Wilson’s death I started an online petition to
keep the Bills in Western New York. I coupled it with a Twitter account I
called Save Buffalo’s Bills (@BuffalosBills) that I used to angrily tweet at
Jon Bon Jovi and Roger Goodell, retweet any relevant updates on the sale
process, and even messages of welcome to Mark Cohon and the CFL should the
Bills relocate. It was all I could do from Athens, sitting on the sidelines
while the Buffalo Fan Alliance and others drew more support for their causes on
the homefront.
I also removed all the Bon Jovi songs from my iPhone while
the team was in limbo. Not like it was a very impactful move, but it made me
feel good, like I could contribute in some way.
--
As the spring became summer, and frontrunners for the Bills
began to emerge, it seemed like it would come down to either Bon Jovi and the
MLSE group or Donald Trump. Pegula’s name had been mentioned, but it didn’t
seem credible at first. Other names swirled around too, like Golisano, who
could provide the same divine intervention he did when the Sabres went bankrupt
after the Rigas family went to prison, but Bon Jovi and Trump seemed to be the
major players in the bidding.
When it was announced that Pegula sold over $1 billion in
land rights to AEP, that was when the speculation intensified. Despite the
waves the move made, he remained quiet about his intentions, and that made it
hard for me to believe he really wanted to buy the team. Personally, I felt
like he believed he was obligated to save the Bills because he was a prominent
figure in the community, and that he wasn’t as passionate about it as he was
when he took control of the Sabres. Additionally, I still believed that the
Toronto group was the biggest threat to the long-term future of the team.
--
Imagine for a minute the Bills were sold to a party that
intended to move the team. Initially, anger and outrage would be the themes of
the day. The new owners wouldn’t be able to make a public appearance in Buffalo
without fearing for their personal safety. It would be reminiscent of Cleveland
in 1996, when Art Modell uprooted the Browns and took them to Baltimore. In their last home game before moving, fans lit fires in the stands and were
furious that they were betrayed so cruelly. Fans in Buffalo would surely
vandalize the facilities and stadium, and I imagine some death threats would
come about.
Maybe it’s ludicrous to think people would be so distraught
by something as arbitrary as sports, but in Buffalo we don’t see it that way. Trying
to take away the Bills is a slight to our way of life. The Bills are a part of
our culture. They have made us just as much as we have made them. Living in
Buffalo without the Bills would be an impossible task. Part of our identity
resides at One Bills Drive, and if it were to leave, what would be left behind
would be insufficient and incomplete.
--
The first step to ensuring that would never happen came on
September 9, when it was announced Pegula had submitted the winning bid for the
Buffalo Bills. While he still had to go through the financial review and owners
vote, it seemed like just a matter of time before he assumed control from the
Wilson trust.
Fans were elated. I was ecstatic. Our renewed sense of
fandom was accompanied by a collective sigh of relief. Trump and Bon Jovi
announced their withdrawals and offered congratulations to the Pegulas, but I
still haven’t put Bon Jovi’s music back on my phone. I don’t anticipate I will
anytime soon either.
After the financial review went swimmingly, and the owners
unanimously welcomed the Pegulas to the league, the nightmarish possibility of
the Bills moving was replaced with a jubilant realization that they weren’t
going anywhere. The press conference on October 10 to make it official was
exactly what we had been hoping for, and the pregame ceremony before the
matchup against New England the following Sunday was simply incredible. We were
all united now, citizens of One Buffalo.
--
I will conclude this rant with some closing statements (as
one usually does in a conclusion). The idea of living in a world where the
Buffalo Bills no longer exist terrified me. But it doesn’t anymore. For the
foreseeable future, the only place they might be moving to is a new stadium on
the waterfront.
The magic will wear off, and the joy the Pegulas brought us by buying the Bills will inevitably fade into frustrated cries for a Super Bowl contender, but for now, Western New Yorkers can bask in this moment, and thank everyone who made the stars align at the right time for this deserving community.
The magic will wear off, and the joy the Pegulas brought us by buying the Bills will inevitably fade into frustrated cries for a Super Bowl contender, but for now, Western New Yorkers can bask in this moment, and thank everyone who made the stars align at the right time for this deserving community.
Editor's Note: Matt Birt is a former Buffalo Bills employee and possibly a future one as well.