Can the Lions Slay the Lambeau Field Dragon?

Throughout the Lions’ three-season post-Millen run, they’ve snapped almost every negative streak, quenched almost every dry spell, and slain almost every dragon. Winning a game, winning a road game, winning a divisional game, winning a divisional road game, putting together home, road, and division winning streaks, having a winning season, going to the playoffs . . . short of postseason glory, they’ve accomplished everything the teams of the past decade couldn’t. Well, almost.

Up in Wisconsin, there’s a great writhing demon made of green and gold. A winged, fire-breathing losing streak whose 20 years make it the longest in NFL history. A physical and psychological force so strong the last Lions team to pierce it was the mightiest squad in my lifetime—the 12-4 NFC Central championship team—and even then they only squeaked out a 21-17 win.

There are all kinds of ridiculous stat nuggets to be unearthed about this streak. Matthew Stafford hadn’t yet turned three years old. Jason Hanson had just finished his junior year at Washington State. Brett Favre was at the end of his long-forgotten Atlantan purgatory. The Lions’ starting right tackle in that game, Eric Sanders, was born in 1958. The Lions’ defensive coordinator then, Woody Widenhofer, was also the DC for the Super Bowl-winning 1979 Pittsburgh Steelers. It was the season reproduced in Tecmo Super Bowl.

There’s one other brick in this wall: the Lions needed to beat the Packers in Lambeau Field to avoid 0-16, and couldn’t. Back in 2008, in the game Gosder Cherilus declared “Our Super Bowl,” Aaron Rodgers handily outdueled Dan Orlovksy while Packers running backs Deshawn Wynn and Ryan Grant piled up 106 yards—each. Lions cornerback Travis Fisher was forced to renege on his promise to walk home if they lost.

Of all the crazy stats about this terrible losing streak, this is the one that hits me hardest: the Lions have the chance to go from 0-16 to 11-5 in exactly three years. They have the chance to take the field at the site of their ultimate defeat, go toe-to-toe with the only dragon they’ve yet to slay, and walk off the field in triumph. Could there be more perfect, complete redemption?

Many Lions fans have cheered the news that the Packers are planning on resting many of their top starters. If the Lions push all their chips to the center of the table, they should have no problem raking the pot. Ah, but there’s the rub: is a victory truly a victory when the other side lays down? Michael Strahan would say so . . .

See? This is an old Packers trick: by giving the enemy a victory, they’re actually denying them one. If the Lions leave Lambeau with a gifted victory, some will say it doesn’t count. Some will think it doesn’t really break the streak. The green-and-gold dragon will still haunt this rivalry. Its specter will still be invoked next year, and the year after that if the Lions don’t repeat the feat in 2012.

Incredibly, as of this writing 2012 is “this” year. Something happened to 2011; it disappeared in a flash of lockout and victory. Somehow, another calendar year and season is water under the bridge. Somehow, this year full of uncertainty and anxiousness and potential and expectations became a year full of success and achievement and PLAYOFFS.

I’ve been saying, repeatedly, that I’ve felt like the Lions clinching a playoff berth is a moment of surreal elation, of detached awe. I still can’t really process it; this sort-of game against a Packers “B” side isn’t going to help ground my free-floating emotions, either.

Losing technically means nothing at all, but will be a bitter disappointment. Winning will technically mean the world for the Lions—but will it taste as sweet as if the Packers had gone all-out? Will it still satisfy? Will it still feel like the ice-cold blood of the Titletown monster has been spilt upon the frozen tundra?

Here’s hoping we get the chance to find out.

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The Detroit Lions are the Opium of the Masses

“Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.”

—Karl Marx, Contribution to Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right

Faith is a marvelous thing. It comforts those who have no other comfort. It fuels those running on empty. It inspires people to do wonderful—and terrible—things, even in the face of great adversity.

I started this blog because I was trying to do something wonderful. After 0-16, the fanbase had been reduced to two small camps: those who’d never stop caring because they loved the Lions too much, and those who’d never stop caring because they had no idea what else to be angry about on the Internet. I wanted to write to, and speak for, the former. I wanted to teach, and inspire, the latter.

As the self-appointed Flamekeeper, I’ve spent years figuratively slogging through the woods with a laden sled, and literally poring over spreadsheets ‘til I woke up the next morning upright in my chair with my hands on the keyboard. All the while, my general faith that things will turn around for the Lions—bolstered by my specific faith that the Lions have found the right executives and coaches this time around—has kept me going.

This season has been the culmination of everything I’ve worked for, and everything us fans have waited for. No more arguing, no more hypotheticals, no more drama: the Detroit Lions are going to the playoffs. All that’s left is to watch, cheer, and see how far they go.

This is an existential crisis for me. I’m reminded of a passage from Douglas Adams’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy:

"I refuse to prove that I exist," says God, "for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing."

"But," says Man, "the Babel fish is a dead giveaway isn't it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves that You exist, and so therefore, by Your own arguments, You don't. Q.E.D."

"Oh dear," says God, "I hadn't thought of that," and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.

"Oh, that was easy," says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets himself killed on the next zebra crossing.

On May 27th, I flatly declared The Lions are Going to Make the Playoffs. On August 18th, I said there are two possibilities for Matthew Stafford this season: injury, or becoming a Top 5 quarterback. When called out for drinking Lions Kool-Aid, I poured another round. I knew, without knowing. I believed. The glory I’ve seen far-off on the horizon since the day Martin Mayhew and Tom Lewand assumed control of the franchise—the day I started this blog—is here.

And the moment itself? Where was I, as the clock on an eleven-year nightmare hit 00:00?

I was at church.

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that the actualization of everything I’ve been telling everyone will happen has thrown me. Over the years, I’ve learned very well how to rationalize the difference between my hopes and reality. I’ve learned how to soak up disappointment and despair, use it to adjust my perspective on things, and then wring it out, ready to keep tending the little blue flame.

I have absolutely no idea what to do with this fact: the Detroit Lions will walk into Lambeau Field, and play a game for no higher stakes than what seed they’ll be in the playoffs.

Throughout the previous eleven years there have been many seasons the Lions have won a big game, or a streak of games, at the bitter end of an awful campaign. Every time, it’s been pointed at as the start of something new, a stepping stone for the promising season to come. In reality, it’s often had more to do with the Lions’ opponent sleepwalking through a game they figured they had in the bag.

I don’t know whether the Packers are going to play Aaron Rodgers, or any of their other starters Sunday morning. I don’t know whether the Lions will play the sixty-minute, mistake free game they played against the Chargers, or implode as they did in the first Packers game. I don’t know if the Lions will rise to the occasion and claim a higher seed—and potentially, a much easer path through the playoffs—or show up, punch the clock and go home.

So what now? What now, that I have no idea what the future holds? What now, that my convictions about this season have all been satisfied? What now, that the Lions players, coaches, and staff have shown to the world they can play with anyone in the NFL? What now, that I’ve had my faith—my opiate—denied by proof?

I’ll do what I’ve always done: I’ll cheer with all my heart, and hope to inspire you all to do the same.

This blog was partially born out of a struggle between factions of Lions fans—but now, there are no factions. We’re all just celebrating the Lions’ success together—exactly what I’ve always hoped for. The Lions in Winter’s mission was and is an exploration, and chronicle, of what it means to be a Lions fan—and I can’t think of anything more exciting to explore and chronicle than the Lions’ run to and through the 2011 NFL Playoffs.

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