Is This The End Of The Innocence?

I vowed long ago that I would take my older son, Jackson, to his first Bills game in Orchard Park when he reached the age of ... 21. Or, maybe, if he continues growing at the pace of his first nine years and develops a nasty streak, maybe 15.

For some reason, I reconsidered this summer after agreeing to take two tickets to tonight's exhibition against Pittsburgh when they became available from the season-ticket package I share with three other guys. It is the preseason, I rationalized, meaning there should be less general intensity and, hopefully, barbarian behavior.

After learning that the game is sold out, and assuming that the stadium will be filled with a disproportionate number of Steelers fans who can not afford tickets at Heinz Field, I am having some second thoughts. But I told him about it weeks ago and he is wearing his white Fred Jackson jersey, so there is no turning back now.

Jackson turned 9 in May. That's two years younger than I was when, on the way out of Rich Stadium after Tom Dempsey somehow sliced a chip-shot field goal just to the right of the goalpost situated directly in front of me to extend Miami's infuriating dominance of the Bills to 19 games, I saw a guy seemingly passed out in a ditch in the parking lot, only his face visible at first above the water resulting from a second-half downpour.

I say "seemingly" and "at first," because I then noticed he was somehow able to hold a beer can above the surface, as well. So I have to assume he was either in fact conscious, or had frozen in a beer- and life-preserving position when he nodded off.

Either way, it was the first time I remember thinking, "Man. Some people drink too much."

Given that the changes in the world since that September day in 1979 and the accelerated rate at which children mature, I have decided it is not too soon to come to that same realization, or any others that might result from a hot summer night surrounded by the well-lubricated. He, too, will probably see things he can not unsee. Which might not be that terrible, after all.

So we are heading out in a few moments. If I can figure out how to update We Want Marangi from my phone, I will do so (like I have said, this is an exhibition blog, so please do not demand a refund on your subscription). If not, I will report back later tonight or tomorrow.

And if you are putting money on the Bills or Steelers, here is a tip: Look up your local Gamblers Anonymous hotline. Betting on an event in which not even the contestants care about the outcome is a sign that you need very intensive help.

But here's a prediction anyway. Pittsburgh 11, Buffalo 5.