Swirling, howling winds swept Ralph Wilson Stadium on Sunday as sheets of icy rain penetrated even the most deftly layered rain gear, drenching and testing the hardiest of souls.
I guess.
Can't really say from personal experience, since the BillStuff coverage team took in the New York Giants' 38-21 come-from-behind wipeout of the Buffalo Bills from the extravagant comfort of the Seneca Niagara Casino suite, located high above the tunnel end of the stadium.
Our friend Vince (for frequent readers of other sections of the Niagara Falls Reporter, no, not that Vince) earned the tickets the hard way: through long hours battling the forces of video poker. He offered BS the two seats after informing casino officials that he had more urgent priorities to take care of two days before Christmas.
"I told my hostess, 'You'd rather have me sitting in the casino than in that box,'" he said before handing over the precious tickets.
His beneficence allowed us to return the generosity previously shown by Gary, a frequent BillStuff contributor who has put us at the 50-yard line in the lower bowl for several games over the past few years.
Those are great seats. Sunday's accommodations, though, revealed a whole new level of sport-viewing hospitality.
Since attending my first Bills game as a 7-year-old in 1975, I've experienced professional football from just about every possible vantage point, other than in a uniform on the field -- sitting at midfield, in the end zone, from the top row of the stadium and from so low that determining what was happening on any given play proved impossible.
In a previous life as a wretch stained with ink from daily newspapers, I watched at least 100 games from press boxes in Orchard Park and around the National Football League, and one from the sideline at Three Rivers Stadium while the Pittsburgh Steelers administered what was an annual pummeling in the mid-1990s.
Since inaugurating the BillStuff column in 2002, I've been fortunate enough to be invited into one of the private boxes subsequently displaced by the lavish Seneca Niagara suite, as well as the Jim Kelly Club. Both of those premium seating options were pretty choice. This, though, was unbelievable.
The first shock came when Gary and I stepped off an elevator in the administration building. What had been the media workroom back when Marv Levy was the coach has been reborn as a lounge, with flat-screen televisions overlooking a self-serve coffee bar.
After checking our coats and appropriating some caffeine, we made our way to the seating area. What had been at least a half-dozen small private boxes as recently as the 2003 season had been consolidated into a wide room stretching beyond each sideline, with thick windows keeping out both the elements and most of the crowd noise.
The quiet enhanced the feeling of isolation from and -- let's be honest here -- superiority over the poor suckers who paid for the chance to contract pneumonia.
Rising from your seat for a particularly important play or to avail yourself of the complimentary amenities also allowed you to quite literally look down on the fans lining up to pay for Miller Lite and semi-edible provender in the driving rain that buffeted the open concourse below.
I've never been much of a gambler -- my cumulative losses at the Seneca Niagara Casino since it opened nearly five years ago wouldn't buy a cheap suit, much less gain entrance to a VIP, Players or any other club. But I think I'm starting to understand why people like the high-roller treatment so much.
Before kickoff, we made the first of what would be innumerable trips to the buffet. Pizza, nachos, chicken wings, chicken fingers and a cheese-and-cracker tray featuring a variety of fine cheddars were arrayed in abundance, their quality exceeded only by their freeness.
What truly made the spread, though, was a deep-fried delicacy BS had not previously experienced.
"You've got to try these," said a man sitting behind us, gesturing to his plate as we prepared to make our first foray.
"They're shrimp, breaded and stuffed with cheese."
Punctuating his advice, he gripped one of the golden-brown ovals between his right index finger and thumb, swirled it in cocktail sauce and popped it into his mouth.
Another stranger offered almost exactly the same counsel as we approached the warming table. So we were shocked and saddened to open the metal lid under the sign reading "shrimp jammers" and see nothing but crumbs.
As if sensing our distress, a smiling server appeared to obviate the pan's emptiness, filling it with a fresh batch. We're still not sure if their name is the result of the shrimp being jammed with cheese or because it's impossible to stop jamming them in your mouth. Whatever the case, we're still not hungry at this writing, some 19 hours after consuming the last of at least a dozen.
There was also an open bar, as well as another cheery uniformed woman who regularly and politely checked in to see if any of us needed anything.
Did I mention that this was all free?
While pondering a third trip to the buffet early in the second quarter, I told Gary I'd finally thought of something to nitpick.
"Seems like they should have some sort of dessert table," I said.
"Oh, they bring that out at halftime," he said, having thought of the same shortcoming moments earlier and had his concern assuaged by a regular sitting nearby.
Just then, the most intense weather of the day moved in, with wind and rain rattling the windows that separated us from the huddled, shivering masses forced to pay for their dripping seats and sodden refreshments.
That was also the precise moment that a game (yes, yes, I suppose a few words about the contest itself are in order) that had started so well for the home team began to come undone.
Moments before the front arrived, long snapper Ryan Neill misfired for the second time in as many weeks, giving New York the ball at Buffalo's 23-yard line. Eli Manning, who spent most of the afternoon attempting to chase down balls he had dropped, experienced one of his few successes by hitting Amani Toomer for 13 yards on third-and-6, setting up Brandon Jacobs' 6-yard touchdown run.
The real damage came on Buffalo's next series, when left tackle Jason Peters limped off the field. Before Peters departed, Trent Edwards was on his way to a career day and finished the first two drives with touchdown passes as the Bills took a 14-0 lead. Peters was replaced by someone named Kirk Chambers, a 6-foot-7, 315-pound brick wall who, unfortunately for Edwards, also moves like one.
Battered by New York's pass rush, his throws buffeted by the wind and rain, Edwards completed only two more passes the rest of the day. The Giants returned the same number of the rookie quarterback's throws for touchdowns in the fourth quarter, turning what had been a tense, if mistake-filled, game into a blowout.
Fault for the interception that put the Giants ahead for good didn't entirely rest with Edwards, as Lee Evans should have been able to catch a ball thrown slightly behind him.
Instead, Buffalo's purported franchise receiver deflected the throw to linebacker Kawika Mitchell, who arrived in the end zone 20 yards later.
After making two more stops, which came after a goal-line stand and interception deep in their own end helped Buffalo ahead until Mitchell's runback, the Bills highly flexible run defense finally collapsed, giving up an 88-yard touchdown run by a backup runner named Ahmad Bradshaw with 6:12 remaining.
Bradshaw finished with 151 rushing yards, while Jacobs -- who also ripped off a 43-yard scoring jaunt -- piled up 145. As admirably as Buffalo overcame the surreal spate of injuries early in the season that contributed to a 1-4 start, you can't really consider yourself a real playoff team if you're giving up nearly 300 rushing yards in a rainstorm -- at home, no less.
With their 2007 season guaranteed to end on Dec. 30 in Philadelphia, Sunday was about Edwards getting experience and the franchise's personnel and coaching staffs figuring out where reinforcements are needed to make the transition to contender.
Both goals were accomplished the hard way.
Based on evidence gathered over the last two weeks, Edwards -- who had a second errant throw returned 34 yards by Corey Webster for the game's final points -- needs to find a way to cope with the brutal conditions he's all but guaranteed to face late in every season he remains in Buffalo.
For all the quickness, tenacity and grit Buffalo's defense showed throughout October and November, the defensive front needs to add some bulk in order to survive in December.
Finally, from the entire BS team, I'd like to offer a holiday wish: May someone, somewhere, someday offer you their tickets to the Seneca Niagara suite.
And make sure to try the shrimp jammers.
BILLS MVP: Given the before-and-after realities, the injury to Peters showed just how vital the Pro Bowl tackle has become in his second full season as a starter.
THE OTHER GUYS' MVP: Bradshaw had the longer run, but the 264-pound Jacobs pulped up Buffalo's defensive front but good.
STAT OF THE WEEK: At the end of the first quarter, Edwards was 7-of-8 passing for 132 yards and two scores. Over the final three periods, he was 2-of-18 for 29 yards and three interceptions.
ODD GESTURE OF THE WEEK: After completing a 3-yard flip to tight end Michael Gaines for the game's first points, Edwards slapped his right hand against his facemask twice and pointed toward the sky.
Was his mother or significant other seated high in the stadium? Or was he blowing kisses to The Almighty?
Whichever the case, it was also interesting that after the touchdown runbacks by Mitchell and Webster, Edwards did not angrily shake a fist or flip an obscene gesture in the direction of his mom, girlfriend or savior.
UNDERSERVING QB OF THE WEEK: Manning, whose brother apparently also plays some football, threw two interceptions, lost two fumbles and put the ball on the turf on three other occasions.
With the win, New York assured itself the fifth seed in the NFC and a first-round game at Tampa Bay, despite Manning's malfeasance. We can say with some certainty that the Giants don't need to worry about the second round.
PATRIOTIC MOMENT OF THE WEEK: Nothing, and I mean nothing, says "I love America" quite like a dozen cheerleader Santa Clauses (or should that be Santas Claus?) standing at attention at midfield during the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner."
WING REPORT: In a vacuum, the wings -- tasty, with a little zing, but not overly crisp -- would have earned a solid B-plus.
The overall culinary experience, though, from the champagne cheddar to the repeatedly aforementioned shrimp jammers to the creamy chocolate cake, richly deserve an A.
BS FAN OF THE WEEK: We're not even sure if he actually watched the game, but Vince has our undying gratitude.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Dec. 28 2007 |