Representing

Swung by the local Dollar General (there is one every mile or so) to grab dog bones for the Big O.

As I headed for the register I spotted a guy who was about 5’7” by 5’7” in a Bills jersey with the number 17 and Allen on the back.

“Oh, thought you were Josh,” I said.

He didn’t smile.

“Two things,” he said. “I doubt Josh walks around town in his jersey and secondly, I’m just trying to represent.”

“They’re playing well,” I said, to calm the dude down. 

(Didn’t mention that Allen walking around in his jersey WOULD BE stupid but that some guy named ‘Johnson’ or ‘Smith’ or ‘Bueller’ walking around with an ‘Allen’ game day jersey wasn’t).

“This is the year,” he answered.

And his wife, or girlfriend, joined him in line. 

She was wearing a James Cook jersey despite the fact that she was about 4’2” and white.

What a trip!

I got to meet Allen and Cook whilst buying milk bones.

My boys have about 20 Bills jerseys between them, and I get it, I guess. 

I have a couple of Yankees jerseys hanging in my closet - but they only have numbers - the Yankees don’t have names on their jerseys.

I truly don’t get losing your identity by wearing someone else’s name on your back. 

There are Bills fans who wear ‘Simpson’ 32 jerseys!

When the kids were young they wore jersey’s of players that had been charged with domestic violence - I threw a bit of a fit.

“Why walk around with THAT guy’s name on your back?”

I was overruled as Kathy thought it was harmless.

“Why not get him a Hitler shirt?” I asked.

Cook and Allen headed for the door.

“Go Bills!” The guy said to me.

I waved.

At least a hundred bucks for those jerseys.

Just representing.

Someone else’s life.