AN ODE TO ORCHARD PARK

I didn't post anything yesterday because I was riveted to the the local CBS affiliate's telecast of the spellbinding NFL matchup between the New York Jets and the Buffalo Bills, two teams who were only two games under .500 entering the contest, on the lush, beautiful FieldTurf of Ralph Wilson Stadium. My heart leapt as brave Jets kicker Doug Brien lofted two arching parabolas into the evening western New York sky and through the towering uprights for the Jets final total of six points. I did metaphorical cartwheels as stalwart Bills Wide Receiver Josh Reed balletically snared a six yard Drew Bledsoe pass for the winning score with only 13 minutes left in the first half.

The only thing marring the broadcast were those pesky updates in the corner of the screen, detailing the petty, lesser exploits of winning teams that only petty, lesser cities were watching live. Why do we need to know what is happening in the unreachable strata of playoff teams when we can enjoy the courageous battle between two also-rans unfolding before us? The answer, as with the minds of local affiliate programmers, will remain inscrutable to the last.