Champions of Defeat

Remember this number and take it to heart, Bulls fans: 34.

That number is the NCAA record for most consecutive losses by any football team in Division I-A history - set by Northwestern in 1982 - and following Saturday's 19-10 loss to University of Central Florida, the Buffalo Bulls are only 19 losses away from breaking it. I know that's still a lot of games, and I know a lot can happen between loss number 16 and 35, even (gasp!) a win.

But as of today, our Bulls are nearly halfway there. That's halfway to losing where no team has ever lost before. Loser's immortality! And I don't know about you, but I'm excited. Over the last few years, our football team and our university have slowly been sinking into the swamp of collegiate anonymity, from which there is no return. But we do have one shot at saving them, and this is it.

Since the Bulls joined Division I-A in 1999, only one team has had a worse winning percentage - Duke, which lost 23 straight games from 1999 to 2002. Winners of six games in the last four seasons, the Bulls are already the laughingstock of the Mid-American Conference, and I've even heard people asking whether or not we're going to still be a Division I-A school in a couple years. This is an important question because it not only addresses the Bulls' murky future, but it also shows the sad extent to which the fans have lost faith in their athletic program. Where is the pride in Buffalo athletics these days? Where's the spirit?

Of course, having endured many seasons of futility, it's easy to see why the fans' spirit evaporated. Nobody celebrates losses like those of the Bulls, or any defeat for that matter. I cried when the Mets lost to the Yankees in Game 1 of the World Series, and that loss remains to this day one of the lowest points in my life.

But the funny thing about losing is that I also cherish the fact that my beloved Mets were once the worst team in baseball history, losing 120 games in 1962. Because underneath all the crying, weariness, angst and disappointment that comes with losing, there is glory. There is fame. After all, losing is universal. Find me someone who has never lost in life. Who's never been on the losing end? Who's never rooted for the underdog?

Deep in the heart of sports there lies a consistency of losing that is so awful, so pathetic, so laughably error-prone and mind-blowing, that before you know it, it's coursing in your blood. It's part of who you are as a fan. You love it. You hate it. Your team isn't bad. It's the worst! And you find yourself so embarrassed that you're proud.

Which brings me back to 34.

Imagine the fans that will pack the stadium when the Bulls are a game away from setting the all-time record for consecutive losses. No Shaggy, no Extreme Zone - the campus will rock as if we we're about the win the national championship.

Twenty-one years ago, with their team on its way to losing 34 straight, Northwestern fans celebrated a 61-14 home loss by tearing down the goalposts and marching through Evanston shouting, "We're the worst!"

And that could be us.

More than 20,000 fans decked in blue and white on the edges of their seats, with painted faces and thunder-sticks and signs that scream, "Randall Secky, Have My Baby!" as we bellow and cheer so loudly that you'd hear us from South Campus.

People who don't even understand football would come to see the game for reasons they can't explain and then talk about it for generations to come. Buffalo would go down as one of the worst teams in any sport to ever grace the planet. We'd be on the cover of Sports Illustrated, the lead story on ESPN. Attendance would skyrocket for every team in the athletic department. Bulls' merchandise would fly off the shelves in less time than it takes us to go down 7-0 in a game. Who in America wouldn't know about the UB Bulls? What child wouldn't grow up without hearing the bedtime story about the football team that lost 35 games in a row? "Forget 'Casey at the Bat,' Dad. Tell me the one about Buffalo."

A celebrated future awaits us, Bulls fans, but if our team is ever going to lose 35 straight games and save this university, they better shape up, and fast.

Despite ranking last in the MAC in points per game, passing touchdowns, passing attempts, passing yards per game, yards per game and touchdowns scored, the Bulls are third with 180.8 rushing yards per game this season. Heck, with strength like that, all it takes is a team such as Duke coming to town, and that's the end of our losing streak.

I don't want the Bulls to come even close to winning another game this season. In fact, I don't want the Bulls coming close to winning another game until November of my senior year.

I want to see our quarterbacks forget our receivers and throw right to opposing defenders. I want to see our receivers running into each other and our tailbacks running into the wrong end zone. I want to see fumbles on every snap, blocked punts, dropped passes, missed extra points, botched laterals, weak stops, invisible blocks, penalties, sacks, hard hits, the unprotected blitz and negative yards of offense per game. I want to see even wider holes in our secondary - if possible - and for our offensive line to perform like the Maginot Line. I want to see footballs go in every direction but ours. I want to see helmets fly and uniforms tear. I want to see kickers cloned from Scott Norwood missing field goals from 10 yards away. I want to see our players being dragged from the field by Victor E. Bull. I want to see Crazy George play quarterback.

I want to see us shatter the record for consecutive losses, tear down the goalposts, tear down the stadium, douse Coach Jim Hofher in a never-ending shower of Gatorade, and hoist every player on our shoulders - even 310-pound lineman Art Stresing - and parade them through the confetti-covered streets of Buffalo.

And then, once we've partied so wildly that we'll have nearly forgotten why, we'll open up the NCAA record books and proudly read, "Longest Losing Streak in History: 35. Buffalo. 2002-2005. Greatest Losers Ever."