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Chargers QB
Doug Flutie
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It was Sam Rutigliano, then coach of the Browns, who said of Buffalo, "It
isn’t the end of the world, but you can see it from there."
The irony here is that we no longer can see Sam, who after a 47-51-0 run with the
Browns disappeared from public view, unless, that is, one happens to be in proximity of
the small school at which he has an affiliation. In Kansas or Missouri, I believe it is.
Sam, I suspect, was being facetious when he made his assessment of Buffalo, but I must
raise my voice in protest. Why I should feel obliged to defend Buffalo, I don’t know,
but I do. Green Bay is the greatest football town in our country (and Los Angeles is the
worst concerning football played for money), but Buffalo would be in my top three. In
order to attend games in that town at this time of the year, folks have to suffer. The
cold; it can be awful. But they come, and they are involved. Are they ever!
You want passion? I give you how Doug Flutie is regarded along the Niagara Frontier. To
the "Flutie Fanatics," who are legion, he is "the Magic Man," the
savior of the franchise. And he isn’t even in town, having been permitted to move on
to San Diego when the club preferred to retain Rob Johnson in preference to Flutie.
It was John Butler who reached for Flutie, Butler having relocated from Buffalo to San
Diego amid circumstances that, shall we say, were not wholly amicable. Additionally,
Butler grasped three other Bills, DE Marcellus Wiley and two linebackers, Sam Rogers and
John Holecek. What Butler was doing was taking players the Buffalo club could not keep
because of a salary-cap problem Butler had created, which did not endear him to Ralph
Wilson, the club’s owner.
Almost certainly moved by pique, Wilson cried out: "I would rather beat the
Chargers than win the Super Bowl." Why, the man must be dotty. To value defeating the
Chargers, a 1-15 team a year ago, more than winning the game with the Roman numerals is
insane, ridiculous, idiotic, inexplicable, etc., as the prevailing opinion in sporting
circles had it.
Excuse me, but permit me to submit that I found merit in Wilson’s conclusion.
Let’s look at it. Let’s consider what we’re dealing with, which is a
Buffalo community that could not be more divided were the Erie Canal to be rerouted and
caused to course down Buffalo’s Delaware Avenue.
Should the Bills indeed win a Super Bowl, what would Wilson have? Well, he would have
that gleaming silver Vince Lombardi Trophy, but after he had stowed it away, he would
still have a Buffalo community split down the middle concerning whether the Bills acted
properly in retaining Johnson rather than Flutie.
A victory over the Chargers would have been an affirmation that the Buffalo club acted
wisely. It would have served to at least quiet those who at the moment are convinced that
permitting Flutie to move on to Qualcomm Stadium was a blooper of the most severe sort. It
would have worked in Buffalo to bring closure to the Flutie matter, to make whole the
community, to heal it.
Anybody who has had a spat with his wife can appreciate Wilson’s position. Without
harmony at home, life is burdensome, no matter what else a man might have.
No, I don’t accept Wilson’s remark as outrageous. I commend him.
"But we’re not as strong as the Chargers, we just aren’t," he said
prior to the game. "To be realistic, it is going to be a tough game for us."
It was. Wilson’s side has no offensive line, which negates whatever expertise
Johnson might possess, a matter still in question.
The San Diego club, meantime, might be a gathering force. The Chargers won 27-24 —
with Flutie scrambling for the winning touchdown.
Wilson, 83, is a person of quality. "The conscience of the NFL," some
publications have said of him. For four generations, he has continued to do business in
Buffalo, where the economy is in the doldrums. He wanted this one. Maybe next time.
Jerry Magee has covered pro football for the San Diego Union-Tribune since 1961 and for
PFW since its inception in 1967. |
