The day after a 45-point beatdown is something I'm not used to nor comfortable with. Don't get me wrong, yesterday was awesome. I gleefully watched as the Lions absolutely dismantled the Chiefs and I even got to celebrate the win with a Detroit-style Coney and a Faygo. I hadn't had that much fun watching a game since the Lions destroyed the Broncos 44-7 in 2007 to put themselves at 6-2 for the year. Of course, the Lions followed up that game with seven losses in eight games. Maybe that's why I feel so uneasy today.
There's an internal struggle going on, that I know many other fans are going through, as well. On one hand, I'm a little disappointed with the play of the Lions. They gave up 100 yards rushing in a quarter. The had two three-and-outs in their first three offensive possessions. Stafford made some poor decisions and got bailed out several times.
Then there's the other half of me that is telling the first half of me to shut the hell up. Hey other half, did you see this?
Not convinced? Now about this?
(note: I know it looks like these two videos are the same, and they are, smartass, but they start at different plays. Now don't you feel like a fool for doubting me? Send your apologies to DetroitOnLion@gmail.com)
3rd and 24, dude.
He caught it with his freaking legs, man. AND he's a rookie.
Our run defense, though....
Did you even see that throw?
Well, it was pretty good.
I don't wanna
Please don't make me...
and I'm sorry.
Yes, you are.
It wasn't always like this. Back in the days of the "same ole' Lions", my split-personalities were in complete harmony. The Lions were losing, which satisfied the pessimist in me, but there was always the promise of the future, which kept my optimistic half alive. But, now, with "the future" having arrived, my pessimistic self can't help but rear it's ugly head where it doesn't belong. I'm like an abused dog. No matter how nurturing this new home is, I can't help but have random episodes of spazzing out and scuttling under tables.
It's starting to wear off, but I'm just not there yet. For every highlight-reel play, there's an equal and opposite fear in my head. For every opposing quarterback battered, there's the worry that our opponent's aren't what we thought they were. After every forced punt, I question why we couldn't have made it a three-and-out.
And it isn't a case of non-believing. I know this team is different. I know we have one of the best quarterbacks in the league. I know this defense is light-years better that it has been in at least a decade. Call it the whispering of failure demons, call it The Curse of Bobby Lane, or call it straight pessimism, but I can't shake the feeling of impending doom.
The Lions haven't played their best football yet. There are two ways my clearly-damaged brain can process this bit of information: I can conclude that maybe the Lions aren't as good as I really think they are, or I can deduce that the Lions have arrived and will be a top-tier team when they play their best football.
I'm really, really trying to believe the latter.