Being a Detroit Lions fan has to be one of the loneliest, most depressing, and thankless roles in all of sports. It’s an inherited existence, and one that many would likely abandon, if abandoning your team was something you could just do. The Lions have lost games in ways that seem impossible, over and over again. If there’s a way for an official to miss or blow a call, it’s happened to the Lions. They are one of only five teams to lose EVERY game in a season.

The last time the Lions won a playoff game was 1991, against the Dallas Cowboys, at the Pontiac Silverdome. Stories and unhealthy attachments to that single game live on around Detroit like the birth of Christ on Christmas Day or Neil Armstrong taking “one small step for a man…” It’s all we have, that game, and it was glorious. For a week.

Well, that’s not exactly true, now, is it? We had Barry. And that’s all you really need to know about the Detroit Lions. They have sucked for a long, long time, and we got to watch Barry Sanders play every week for nine years.

“Bye Bye Barry” is a new documentary on Amazon Prime that looks at the life, career, legend, and controversy around Barry Sanders, their incredible running back from 1989 to 1998. There have been so many unanswered questions, and they were all to be answered here. At the top of the list: Why did he walk away from the game in good health, at a relatively young age, with no more than a couple seasons away from an almost guaranteed spot at the top of every career running record that exists? We knew he was the best ever, and another twenty or so games would have etched it in stone forever. Why, Barry?!?!?!

A man of very few words with a disdain for the spotlight and a distrust of the press, Barry never said much about anything. He talked when he had to, but he kept it brief. He never, ever celebrated after a great run or a score. His opponents were tangled up with each other in knots behind him, embarrassed and outsmarted, while Barry quietly handed the ball to the referee as he walked back to the sideline. He didn’t want the Heisman, he left trophies behind after receiving them, and records were not important to him. It’s time for Barry to spill the beans.

The documentary zips back and forth between his childhood in Kansas, his college and pro careers, and his current life as a Lions alum. Most telling are those early years, with a tough-as-nails father living somewhat vicariously through his son who had many times the talent that he ever did. His upbringing wasn’t short on love, but always under a stern discipline and condescending narrative from his father, only breaking occasionally and partially, around Barry’s greatest successes.

The meat of the film are those dreadful Lions’ seasons, though. Like the coaches that came and went, they wore on Barry too, as he racked up consecutive thousand-yard seasons and highlight-film dream clips of runs that still look impossible. One after another after another, there is no shortage of that footage in the film, and you never tire of it. Those runs are what it’s all about, against a backdrop of a team that struggled to be mediocre at best.

The story isn’t without some tension and drama too. Our God-like superstar running back wasn’t without fault. In the last game of his rookie season, he took himself out of the game early, just ten yards away from the season league rushing title, an honor that would have meant a lot to the rest of the team, the coaches, the franchise, and the city. Even today it feels selfish.

And then there’s the end. Barry faxes in his retirement as he boards a plan for a few days of solitude in London, leaving the team, the league, and the city in open-mouthed disbelief. Why, Barry? Why? Your name and the “Detroit Lions” would have been all over the record books forever if you’d stayed just a while longer. No spoilers here – tune in yourself to hear if from the man who made those decisions.

The film is an easy watch, and even a non-sports fan would be enamored with the story and the endless game reels of those incredible, impossible runs. Michiganders Jeff Daniels and Eminem chime in with different perspectives. Em’s profanity laced clips are particularly funny and offer the perspective of a kid in metro Detroit watching those events unfold. Interviews with former coaches, teammates, opposing-team players, and family members, combined with archival footage from locker rooms and press conferences really paint a full picture, and do the story justice. And what a story it was.

There’s a new statue of Barry Sanders outside Ford Field this year, and I saw it for the first time on Thanksgiving Day last week, after paying too much money to watch the Lions get embarrassed by sub-par play against a sub-par team again. I stood there for a minute and thought how typical that exact situation was of the several decades I’ve been a Lions fan. Pissed off and embarrassed about what had just happened on the field, but… we had Barry.

Jeremy Porter lives near Detroit and fronts the rock and roll band Jeremy Porter And The Tucos. Follow them on Facebook to read his road blog about their adventures on the dive-bar circuit.
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