Twenty-five years later, Ivan Pehar of Mississauga, Ont., still thinks about the play that has been dubbed the Music City Miracle. On Jan. 8, 2000, in Nashville, his beloved Buffalo Bills had taken a one-point lead with 16 seconds left in a playoff game against the Tennessee Titans. On the ensuing kickoff, a Titans player fielded the football and handed it to a teammate, who threw a lateral pass across the field to another teammate, who then ran 75 yards for the winning touchdown with three seconds left.
Bills fans were left in disbelief, stunned by the loss and by having to endure yet another year of waiting to capture the Super Bowl – something that still hasn’t happened.
“When you get that close to winning one, it becomes ‘next year’,” says Pehar.
Pehar, 48, has been a Bills fan since he was 13. He cheered for them when they made four straight Super Bowls in the early 1990s (something no other team has ever done) and lost all four. And he endured the 17-year playoff drought that followed the Music City Miracle.
How has he stuck through it all? Pehar says that the disappointments only solidify the fan bonds. “I think when you lose, your passion grows even stronger. We almost won, if it wasn’t for …”
Any fan of cursed franchises can fill in the gap with the latest season or playoff calamity. As Pehar knows, there are fair-weather fans who jump on and off of bandwagons. Others stay loyal year after year, whether their teams are perennial losers or show promise but always seem to fall short of the ultimate prize.
A couple of academic studies from the U.K. show that being close to winning it all, or having no shot at all, can both be appealing to fans.
The research looked at fans of Premier League soccer teams. One study found that fans of teams at either the top and the bottom of the league saw themselves as more dedicated, enthusiastic and knowledgeable than other fans. Winning big or losing big didn’t affect their hopefulness; only being in the middle of pack did. The authors concluded that abandoning a losing team is impossible because you see the squad as part of your social identity, regardless of how the team fares.
Another study revealed that fans of the weakest Premier League teams considered their fellow fans to be more like family than did fans of successful clubs. And when fans were asked if they’d sacrifice their own life to save the life of another fan, the fans of failing teams showed a higher willingness to do so.
Fans of many teams across all leagues have a wait-till-next-year mentality, balancing their heartbreak and hope. To Pehar, the loyalty of Bills fans reflects the character of the city where they play.
“It’s a small market team that takes the DNA of [their] residence – blue collar, hardworking. And that’s what you expect from the team.”
The Bills Mafia, as they’re known, are legendary for their grit, tight ties and devotion to the game. They’ve exemplified it by doing everything from volunteering to shovel snow in the stadium, to donating generously to causes affecting both Bills’ players and their opponents.
“Bills Mafia are another breed, like Leafs’ fans,” says Pehar.
He knows you can get sentimental bonding over a team, its home, shared fan experiences and all that surrounds game day, regardless of win-loss records. Pehar even has a soft spot for one notorious feature of the men’s bathrooms at Buffalo’s Highmark Stadium. “I hope they replicate the trough,” he says, referring to plans for the team’s new stadium, now under construction and set to open for the 2026 season.
It remains to be seen if a Super Bowl banner will fly there. Never capturing a championship can become such a part of a fan base’s psyche that winning might threaten their lovable loser identity. Some fans debated this after the Boston Red Sox broke their 85-year World Series championship drought in 2004, and the Chicago Cubs ended their even longer 108-year drought in 2016.
One article, which appeared the day after the Cubs won, referenced a philosopher, anthropologist and psychologists in explaining the emotions that the team’s long-time fans might be going through. It quoted Eric Simons, author of the book The Secret Lives of Sports Fans: “Fans can get so much from identifying with a team, in ways even players don’t. The athletes can be mercenaries, but the fan is permanent.”
That raises the question of how identities might shift if a team finally reaches the summit. Pehar would love to have that problem. When the Bills started a run in this year’s NFL playoffs, he said “I would take one Super Bowl win and never have a winning season ever again. Why not us?”