A Lifelong Bills Fan’s First Experience in Highmark Stadium
The anticipation of seeing the new Highmark stadium ahead of its primetime home opener debut felt a lot like the first day in a new school. Who would I sit with? Will I see my friends? What if I get lost?!
Whatever nerves I felt dissipated quickly on the walk up to the stadium. As the giant stainless-steel bison statues came into view, so did crowds of people lingering in the Family Circle. Families and friends posed in front of the statues while others milled around the Ring of Honor pillars soaking in the vibes. It was a sea of zubaz excited to start the next 30 years of Bills football together. Then, right on cue, was the familiar call from a single fan that every member of Bills Mafia will recognize: “HEYYY, ehhh, EHHH, ehhh!” And in unison, hundreds of fans in the plaza replied: “HEYYY, ehhh, EHHH, ehhh!” Yes, the surroundings may have changed, but the heart and soul of the Buffalo Bills was breathing life into the new stadium, one “Let’s go Buff-a-lo,” at a time.
The first thing you notice about the new stadium is how large it looms. It towers over One Bills Drive, hiding all the secrets of Bills Mafia behind its walls. It’s an unfamiliar sight compared to the old low-slung stadium that let you peek between its concrete to get a taste of the atmosphere beyond.
But inside the new Highmark, the atmosphere that Bills Mafia made famous lives on. As I walked through the spacious black and grey concourse, I couldn’t take more than a few steps before running into someone I knew. I lost track of how many high fives and bear hugs I exchanged with friends I hadn’t seen in months or years. At my seat, an old friend from my days collecting carts at Wegmans sat on my left. To my right, was a couple it took me all of 30 seconds to make friends with. Behind me? A family I high-fived no less than fifteen times throughout the night. And the sound! It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. Every big play is punctuated by cheers trapped by the partial canopy overhead. With nowhere to go but back down the noise surrounds you, making it impossible to hear the person next to you. It’s sound that you can feel.
I’ve heard the stadium described as “palatial,” and it certainly wouldn’t be wrong to call it that. And somehow at the same time it’s balanced out by an unpretentiousness that’s reflective of Buffalo’s rust-belt roots. There’s an old law on the books here that requires every bar in town to sell food. To comply, a lot of local joints keep chip bags for sale on a rack behind the pine. Inside Highmark’s spacious Charge Bar lounge – the longest in the NFL – the back bar is empty except for those same familiar chip racks. Just like the one you’d find in your favorite corner bar.
The best way to describe the stadium? Communal. Every nook and cranny in the building has a view of the game, and in those nooks and crannies are friends old and new waiting to ask how you’ve been and to cheer on the Bills with you.
If Buffalo is our home, the new Highmark Stadium is our living room. Our beautiful, loud, rambunctious living room.
