I say "Buffalo" you say "Bills"! Buffalo! Bills! Buffalo! Bills!

Does a repeat-after-me song ever get old?

Yes. Yes it does. And I speak from experience, because Fingers, BSB, Orange, and I were up at dawn's crack to attend Sunday's NFL game: Buffalo Bills vs. the Sanfrancisco 49'ers. It was my first experience at such an event, and I think I can safely say I had no idea what I was in for (however many times I may have watchedVarsity Blues.)

To start, there's the drive down to the border. Traffic was bonker doodles with crazy Bills fans--honking, signs, flags, etc. We were across the line and out of the icy grip of the power hungry Border Guard within 45 minutes, parked and ready to tailgate in another 45.

And tailgate we did! Imagine it... 4 West-Ed sized parking lots full of people, campers, and vehicles drinking and cooking various types of meat at 8:00 in the morning. More zubaz than the eye can see. And to be fair, 'twas cold in Buffalo, so even we were dressed for the weather in snow pants and ski hats, but no one needs a one piece florescent orange camouflage jumpsuit with matching boots, let alone the 40 or so grown men (and women!) we counted sporting them!

And remember: this is a team for whom the #1 most frequently asked question is "Are you allowed to get married at the Ralph Wilson stadium?"

Then there are the fires. People build fires in charcoal pits, garbage cans, and directly onto the asphalt. They burn dressers, folding camp chairs, and sweaters (yes, sweaters). They cook things over them, use them for warmth, and play games like everyone's favorite "Lets See What Else Will Burn!" Not surprisingly, the air is ripe with the distinctive tang of both lighter fluid and chemically treated wood.

Game time: 1:00. We start the long trek at 12:30 or so. Everyone carries a beer right up to the gate, possibly stuffing a few travellers down the inside pant leg. We watched a man on parade, proudly rocking his Bills zubaz, unconscious to the fact they'd fallen down around his ankles mid-stride. We were separated into girls and boys for the security clearance/full-body frisk. We removed our hats for the Color Guard. p.s. Who are the Color Guard exactly?

Inside, the stadium was smaller than I anticipated, having spent so much time at Ivor Wynne this summer. But that doesn't make it any less entertaining. The big screen was straight ahead so we got prime vantage points for the much anticipated Fries vs. Snackwich vs. Big Mac race, in which more than one fan was anxiously screaming "FRIIIIIIES!" (sadly, Fries came in last, but he put up a good race. Although I don't know who would bet on a trans fatty starch when there's a healthy alternative in the mix?)

Speaking of losing, so too did the Bills, escorting themselves out of the playoffs. The kicker missed two important field goals, one from the 10 yard line, so no doubt he'll end up in someone's trunk later this week.

The ride home was redonk, taking close to three hours. But Fingers was a super trooper and got us all there safe and sound, despite the torrential sleet, ride program, and silly parking lot drivers.

What a flippin' experience.