The hysteria that accompanied last season’s meteoric rise to prominence for the Buffalo Sabres was a moment of pride for the city of Buffalo and its residents. For the second consecutive season, the populace of Buffalo lived and died with each game, and the mood in the very air changed with every new development. Come playoff time, the excitement was palpable. A win produced euphoria; a loss, dejection, even depression. I have never before witnessed or been part of devotion of that magnitude.
The off-season was a different story. In (arguably) typical fashion, the suits that run the team’s management hesitated at an important impasse and neglected to re-sign the team’s captains, two players who were visible leaders throughout both the regular and post-season. Misery reigned supreme. The decision produced a kind of lover’s quarrel between the team’s administration and the fans who felt they deserved better. After all the love we showed? After all the late nights, all the beer we drank, all the money we spent, all the agony watching final seconds tick away, this is what we got? If I die early from heart failure, at least I know where it started.
In 1999 when the Sabres lost in the Stanley Cup finals, I threw a TV remote through a window screen and went to bed. In 2006 when they lost to the Carolina Hurricanes, I had a beer. And another. And then another. I couldn’t stand to sit around and mope, so I went to a movie and when the lights came up, I realized half the audience was wearing Sabres jerseys. In May when the Ottawa Senators snuck by the Sabres in overtime, I sat on the floor of a bar and wondered what I would do with my time now that my obsession had so suddenly come to an end. I do not regret those moments, and I could not have laughed it off as just another silly game.
These seasons were a bonding experience for every Buffalo resident. The pain that I, and all of Buffalo, felt is the reason we will be back to support the team this year. Hell, we can’t give up on them now. We’ve invested this much, we have to keep going. The loss of two key players may be bitter, but it is by no means the end. Drew Stafford is the way of the future, as far as I am concerned, and Tim Connolly, for the first time in the past three seasons, will have a fresh start, injury-free.
Friday night’s opening loss to the New York Islanders by an astronomically high score of 6-4 proved little except that the Sabres have some nerves to overcome. Any game that contains six goals in the first period is an anomaly, and the Sabres’ offense—I hate to use inarticulate sports metaphors—came out flying. The sold-out arena practically shook when the Presidents’ Trophy was presented before the opening face-off, and the sight of the Northeast Division title banner displayed in the arena’s rafters was enough to make any fan forget last season’s disappointments. The atmosphere inside the arena before the game was downright joyous. Being there was like meeting an old friend after a long time spent apart. And besides, now there is no pressure for a season opening win streak, and the team can work at their own pace. I’m hoping that pace won’t involve allowing six goals every game, but if Thomas Vanek can bury a few more ten-foot slap shots like he did on Friday, I’ll let that slide.
I won’t say that I’m not a little wary of how things will go this season. I’ve grown used to watching these guys win; last season everything seemed so effortless. It will take practice and time to achieve a new kind of balance, especially with different captains and new players in the roster. But I’m not going to predict any great shift in momentum. Friday’s game was disappointing, but it will by no means set a tone. After all, it’s still the same team and it’s still the same city. If the love that Buffalo displayed last season is still in existence, and there is every indication that it is, this season will be just as memorable as any.
Stephen Boyd,
Senior Editor
