A Farewell to Same Old Lions

It was all the way back in March of the past year when I learned that our Lions would be featured on HBO's Hard Knocks. I, like many of you, was excited. Prior to learning that our team would get the HBO deep dive, all we had was MCDC's "kneecaps" introductory presser and a top pick in the draft coming up in April. We all drink the koolaid, but it always mixes with a bit something bitter that rises up from our stomachs. At some point during the season we're all out of our blue juice, and all we're left with is bile and dejection.

You felt it, rising in the back of your throat, during the Seahawks/Rams game. The Rams couldn't get it done. The refs' agenda was clear. We weren't playing for a spot in the playoffs. A fair portion of us stood up out of our seats and lamented our situation when a flag came out for a suspiciously charitable Running Into the Kicker penalty. We felt it on the missed calls on DK and on Quandre. When Meyer's kick went through the uprights and nailed our coffin shut, we were right back to square one. New suspects to the same old crime.

I often would tell my non-Lions friends that my (our) team had an uncanny knack for breaking our hearts in new and interesting ways. Even during our darkest years, we'd all still have a glass of the koolaid going into a season. Any of our collective histrionics in off-season, training camp, preseason, and even the first few games would always be a coping mechanism. We've been hurt before so giving up early saved us from the brunt of what we knew was coming.

The heightened attention that HBO gave the entire country to the Lions, on Dan Campbell's infectious "I f**king LOVE you guys, man!" attitude, on the players we knew, and on the players we were just getting to know initially felt like another new and interesting way for our Lions to break our hearts, once again.

With hind-sight we all know that wasn't the case, but boy did it feel that way by the end of October. But I'll ask you this: when did you spit the bile out of your mouth and reach for the koolaid again?

How many wins did we need before you were doing wildcard math? Was it after we got the Pack for the first time? Was it when we were barely edged out by the Bills? At some point we all came to the realization that the Lions were back and we were in the running for a wildcard slot. We weren't running on fumes, we were only getting started.

The NFL scheduled our execution before our trial last night. The Seahawks won a gross gross game against a team who's wheels had fallen off, and it killed our dream. William Wallace still dies at the end of Braveheart and the Lions get jobbed by the refs in a game in which we aren't even playing. And then the Seahawks put our logo on the big screens in their stadium and looked to the east—not at first light, but during primetime—to see if we would be their salvation. An emotional Geno Smith gave thanks to God and then said "go Lions!"

The Packers were win-and-in, and we went out there and whooped some Packer butt. Not for the Seahawks, but for us. We had died, but that didn't mean we were having any less fun. Aaron Rodgers, a man who has beaten us over and over again, was sent out out on our terms, not his. We weren't playing for anything, but it felt like we were playing for everything.

I'm just 29, but I can tell you that I've never seen that before. Not after 0-16 and drafting Stafford or Johnson, or hiring/firing Schwartz/Caldwell/Patricia, or new GMs or team presidents, or anything else. In stead of my heart breaking in a new and interesting way, I was (we all were) given hope in a new and interesting way. We have named that hope and memed that hope and even slightly distanced ourselves from that hope as a means of protecting ourselves, but we all have it, and at this point nothing seems to be able to take it away from us.

The team isn't the same old Lions, and we aren't the same old Lions fans.