There was a big signing around here a couple of weeks ago. Like 6 foot 11 big. Dwight Howard decided to stay with the Orlando Magic and, in talking about it afterwards, seemed genuinely humble, contrite and sincere in talking about his love for the City Beautiful. While a spat with his coach has since become public, and Howard is taking the heat for that, he nevertheless postponed the opportunity to take more money more quickly to stay in a situation and a city which has made him happy. Superman, perhaps. Unique, no question.
But outside of Central Florida, there is an even larger story. Like 6 foot 6, 283 pounds large. Mario Williams, the best defensive free agent to hit the NFL's open market in perhaps two decades, signed with the Buffalo Bills.
I don't know Mario Williams. I've never heard him utter a soundbite that I can remember. I've never seen him appear in a video game commerical, or on a kids' tv show, or seen him take over a karaoke machine, or create a scavenger hunt for tickets to an event he is hosting, or a smile a smile as wide as the Mississippi like I have with Howard.
But I do know Buffalo. I lived there for nine years. My wife is from there. Both my kids were born there. I covered sports in Buffalo in the post-Super Bowl era when I saw Jim Kelly and Bruce Smith in their twilight, just before the darkness of the last twelve seasons without the playoffs. I know how much identity that city gets from its football team -- how regal they felt when they went to four straight Super Bowls -- and how deeply they feel the sting of the embarrassment of being not just bad, but irrelevant on the NFL scene. The city takes on a sad, stoop-shouldered that reflects one of the gloomy, deep-gray days of Western New York's mid-autumn.
To get a sense of what their relevance means, note in the article below by the excellent football writer Mark Gaughan, how Gaughan calls the signing, "a milestone in the 52-year history of the Bills."
Or this one, from news reporter Gene Warner on Williams' impact on the franchise and the city:
Without Howard, the Magic would rebuild. It would be painful and it would take some time, but they would get other good players and they would revive. And the city would never need validation from its favorite team the way Buffalo does. Orlando without a good basketball team is still a fast-growing city with theme parks and entertainment and sunshine. Buffalo without the Bills is Slovakia without the view.
So give the Bills credit here. They gambled their entire franchise on one expensive hand, and finally, for once, they came up aces.