A heartache finish for fans after raucous tailgating in Kansas City

Buffalo is thriving now – notwithstanding Sunday’s wrenching divisional round loss to he Kansas City Chiefs that gutted fans like Jessica Ball, who traveled to Kansas City from Blasdell.

"Complete roller-coaster of emotions," she texted from the stands immediately after the game. "Absolutely heartbroken."

But win or lose, the pre-game tradition rolls on.

“I couldn’t imagine going to a game without it,” said Ariana Rodriguez, who was among hundreds of Bills fans from near and far who trekked to GEHA Field at Arrowhead Stadium for football – and tailgating.

Five hours before kickoff, dozens of fans brought a slice of Orchard Park to a parking lot in the shadow of Arrowhead.

Sahlen's hot dogs sizzling in a skillet. Zubaz as far as the eye can see. The "Shout" song playing on a portable speaker. And a lucky sweet potato waiting to be smuggled into the game.

Adam Ciaccio, who lives in Kansas City but acquired his Bills fandom living throughout upstate New York, said the Bills shouldn't need lucky totems. But, he hoped, "The potato's a good backup plan."

"I told him they're going to lay a potato," said Keshawn Triplett, a Chiefs fan "born and raised" who once worked with Ciaccio.

Nearby were pals Madison Brown, a Wheatfield native, and Elise Swackhamer, from the Finger Lakes, both now in Colorado. Swackhamer was at the AFC championship game in Kansas City last year, which the Bills lost, and the regular season game in October, which the Bills won.

"Best two out of three," Swackhamer said.

As they talked, a Bills fan jumped out of a car that pulled in next to them, cracked open a Blue Light and pounded it while profanely expressing his enthusiasm for Sunday's action.

A few spots over, Matt Harris was reading instructions on how to assemble a portable grill. The Eden native, now in Kansas City, lost his previous grill at the Atlanta Falcons game at Highmark Stadium.

Win or lose, Harris said under bright sunshine and blue skies, tailgating before a playoff game is worth savoring.

"It's a celebration," said Harris, in an Al Cowlings Bills jersey – really – and sitting in a folding chair hand-woven by his great-aunt. "We didn't have this for 20 years."

Catherine Cline, from Kansas City, and her sister, Kimberly Higgins, of Colorado, originally from Grand Island, had pre-packed Jello shots and a sign reading, "Maybe Next Year," with "Next" crossed out and replaced with "This."

"You can take the girl out of Buffalo, but you can't take the Buffalo out of the girl," Cline said.

"It's in our blood," Higgins added.

When a taunting Kansas City fan ran down the aisle waving a "This is Chiefs Kingdom" flag, the sisters joined in the vocal response.

Ryan Strobel, vice president of the Dallas Bills Backers, had the Sahlen's dogs going on the grill, with Weber's mustard on standby. Strobel, who got married in October, said his wife, Leslie, had Jim Kelly record a Cameo video for their reception.

Taking in the red-white-and-blue scene, Strobel marveled, "It's crazy to see how Bills fans travel."

The youngest traveler was Cheektowaga's Lincoln Kinmartin, 6 months old in a tiny Josh Allen jersey and strapped to his father's chest.

"His first tailgate," Matt Kinmartin said with the same pride as if Lincoln had spoken his first word.

Asked if Lincoln was ready to be baptized into the congregation of Bills fans with a ritual table-breaking, mom, Jessica, quipped, "I'm not going to say no to that."

Across a busy roadway from the stadium, a private parking area known ominously as "Lot X" drew hundreds of Bills fans to a raucous party that soon became a graveyard for plastic folding tables.

"We're the best fans in the world," said Marie Dale, who graduated from Williamsville South High School – "Go Billies" – but lives in Dallas. "People in Buffalo, we stick with things through thick or thin."

The crowd at the official tailgating party grew thicker by the minute. Gregory "Booker" Wells – who has attended just about every game, home and away, for 30 years – was resplendent in a pink suit, one of roughly 300 he owns, as he checked for proof of admission to the party run by his son.

Party-goers included a group carrying another plastic table high as another offering to the churning sea of fans.

"It's the Bills Mafia, baby," Wells said, flashing his Bills-painted fingernails.

Nearby, Danielle Richie, a Durham, N.C., resident who grew up in Rome, N.Y., shook her head at the prospect of the great tailgating ritual.

“I think the table would break me before I broke the table,” she said, laughing.