by | Jan 29, 1994 | Detroit Free Press | 0 comments

So once again, Curt Sylvester, my aging and decaying friend, we find ourselves in a familiar position: You, being helped along by sheer luck and artificial intelligence, and me, stuck picking Buffalo.

How do I get myself into this?

I know. I know. Last year I said the Bills would win the Super Bowl. (I lost the coin flip back then, too.) And when you rebuked me, I gave you a piece of advice I thought would help then and still might now:

Curt, a mind is a terrible thing to waste. I stand by that.

And I stand by the Bills. Not because they’re a sure thing (ha!) or a dynasty (haha!) and not because they even have a chance of winning tomorrow
(hahahaha!) I stand by them because you are picking Dallas.

And given your judgment, I must be right. Are you not the guy who last month purchased a condo near the Santa Monica Freeway? Wasn’t it you who said Evander Holyfield couldn’t carry Riddick Bowe’s jock? Weren’t you in on that infamous headline, “DEWEY BEATS TRUMAN”?

Clearly, Curtis, you have been spending too much time with the Lions. You actually believe a team is great just because it wins a few games.

These Cowboys have won one Super Bowl, not 20. They started the year at 0-2. They lost on Thanksgiving Day, thanks to Leon (I got it!) Lett. The Cowboys are not impervious. They are not made of rock, like your brain.

Where’s your sympathy? Everyone is going with the Bills. They’re a sentimental favorite. Why do you cling to the Cowb–

Wait! I know the answer! Just minutes ago, I called your room, as usual, to remind you to take your medicine, and what did I hear blaring in the background when you answered? COUNTRY MUSIC!

No wonder. All this time, I thought your brain had been fried by some weird disease you caught on one of your nightly swims through the Coconut Lounge. But now I realize, you’re perfectly healthy: It’s all that country music! You’ve been listening to songs like “If Love Were A Football, I Couldn’t Throw A Spiral.” No wonder you never pick against Dallas. Your dream is to be . . . a Cowboy!

Well, Curt, my yodeling yo-yo, let me put it in simple country music terms: Come Sunday, your “Achy Breaky Heart” will tell you why “Mamas Don’t Let Their Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys.”

They’re gonna lose.

They’re gonna lose, not because they aren’t the better team (they are) and not because they don’t have superior talent (they do) and not because they don’t thrive in the spotlight while the Bills act like frightened deer (they do, they do).

No. They’re gonna lose because you picked them. And they’ll be so mad at you, they won’t let you play guitar with them anymore.

Buffalo 24, Dallas 21.

Get along, little doggie.


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

New book, The Little Liar, arrives November 14. Get the details »

Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.

Subscribe for bonus content and giveaways!