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Monday, November 22, 2004

Green With Envy

There’s no way for me to describe what it’s like to be a Jets fan without sounding certifiably insane. I know this.

It's a world where up is down, left is right, Anna Nicole is sane and Peter Gallagher's eyebrows are understated. Just crazy.

If I were to give it a try though, I’d say this. To be a true Jets fan, you need to know two things: 1) When things are going bad, they’re real bad. And 2) When things are going good, it’s just a build up for something even worse.

This isn’t one guy’s opinion. This is scientifically proven…not by any scientists per se, but still. Trust me on this one.

The Prologue

Every Jets fan needs to get his initiation. For me, it was as an innocent eight-year-old sitting in a driving rain storm in the Meadowlands with the Old Man in 1988. The Jets and Chiefs battled into overtime where All-Pro running back Freeman McNeil inexplicably fumbles twice in field goal range and the Jets leave the building with an empty 17-17 tie. A letdown to say the least. I remember looking at my dad and seeing the anger literally seething from him. I believe the seeth was red. The team went 8-7-1. The tie cost them a playoff berth. A nice start.

The Dark Ages

Things only got worse from there. The Jets made the playoffs only once in the next 10 years, an 8-8 season and one-and-done bounce out in ’91 against Warren Moon and the Oilers. The Jets spent the next eight seasons ('89-'96) without ever finishing above .500. That’s hard to do. Let’s take a look.

1989: 4-12
1990: 6-9
1991: 8-8
1992: 4-12
1993: 8-8
1994: 6-10
1995: 3-13
1996: 1-15

These were some dirty days. And since you can usually judge a team by its quarterback, let’s take a closer look at that position. Please put the children to bed.

Ken O’Brien: Starter from 1984 to 1991 who shouldn’t have lasted that long. Had one truly good season in ’84 (25 t.d’s, 8 picks, 3,888 yards) but was generally a stiff. Made Drew Bledsoe look like Flo Jo in comparison. Especially bad in postseason (0-3).

Browning Nagle: Tabbed as the future -- until we found out his name wasn't the only thing that sucked. After a promising 365 yard debut against the Falcons to begin his career, things went downhill fast. Started 14 games, threw 7 touchdowns and 17 interceptions. One and done. Bounced around the league for a few years before disappearing in 1997.

Boomer Esiason: A personal favorite and general good guy -- even if he did name his first-born son Gunner. Loved this guy so much, I named my dog after him. That said, his best days were behind him by the time he got to New York. Threw costly interception in Marino's "Fake Spike" game of '94 (I was there). Started for three seasons from '93 to '95 where the team went 17-31. Thank you and good night.

Glen Foley: A minor footnote in Jets lore, Foley was set to supplant Esiason as starter mid-way through the '95 season. Replaces Esiason in a November game against the Pats, takes a blindside hit and dislocates his shoulder. (I was there.) Out for the season.

Neil O'Donnell: Another personal favorite but for reasons I can't explain to this day. Signed to a huge, guaranteed contract coming off an atrocious performance with the Steelers in Superbowl XXX (three picks). O'Donnell was injured and played six games in Rich Kotite's 1-15 debacle in '96. Have I even mentioned Rich Kotite yet? When Parcells arrived and subsequently cleaned house, O'Donnell was one of the first to go.

For those of you keeping score at home, the Jets record from '89 to '96 was 40-85. You can't make this stuff up.

The Awakening
The arrival of the afforementioned Parcells pumped new life back into the franchise. With a coaching staff that included the brilliant minds of both Charlie Weis and Bill Belichick, the Jets went 9-7 and barely missed the playoffs. By '98, Parcells had formed a jaugernaut, led by the resurgent Vinny Testaverde (29 t.d.'s, 7 picks) and the brilliant Curtis Martin. The team went a franchise-best 12-4 and, amazingly, won the AFC East for the first time since the 1970 merger.

Yet even Parcells and friends were unable to escape Gang Green misery. The Jets took a 10-0 lead into the second half of the AFC Championship at Denver before the The Broncos, led by John Elway and John Elway's horse face, rebounded -- reeling off 24 unanswered points in the second half for a 24-10 win. Crushing.

Destiny's Whore

Despite the AFC title game demoralizer, the Jets headed in the 1999 season as the annointed favorites for the Superbowl (Elway had retired in the offseason). But fate thought otherwise. In one of the all-time stomach punches in franchise history, Testaverde blows out his Achilles' tendon in the second quarter of the season opener against New England and is done for the season. A clearly destroyed Jets team stumbles with the brutal Rick Mirer to an 0-3 start. Ray Lucas takes over and the team manages to finish 8-8. The Testaverde injury stands as the great "What If" in Jets history.

Parcells pulled his usual skip out routine after the season and Belichick turns down "HC" position to leave Parcells' fat shadow and join New England (fuck you very much). It's a move I'm sure Belichick regrets to this day. Okay, probably not.

Al Groh eventually succeeded Parcells and the Jets started off the 2000 season 6-1 before folding, finishing 9-7 and missing the playoffs. Testaverde returned that season, but was never the same player again after the injury. Groh resigned after one season, paving the way for a new era.

"You plaaaay to weeeen tha gaaame."

Things a turn for the better with the hiring of Herman Edwards, who pumped new life to the franchise with his fresh and positive look at the game. A new core for the team was introduced following the 2000 draft (the team had a record four first round picks by trading malcontent Keyshawn Johnson). One of those picks would become the new face of the franchise, when the team selected Chad Pennington with the 18th overall pick. Once named starter Pennington became instant star, supplanting Testaverde as starter in 2002 and leading the team to their second division title as well as a stunning 41-0 playoff victory over Peyton Manning and the Colts. Pennington looked flustered in a season-ending loss to the Raiders the following week, but things were truly looking up for the first time in too long.

Of course, these are the Jets, so something bad was around the corner. Pennington shattered his wrist in a pre-season game against the Giants and missed six games of the 2003 season. The Jets couldn't recover with a decomposing Testaverde at the helm, losing their first three games and finishing 6-10.

The Song Remains The Same
That takes us to today. After a 5-0 start, this year's team has now lost three of four, including a heart-breaking overtime loss to the Ravens last Sunday (I was there...I should stop going to games). The cycle is starting again, and I fear a 9-7, no playoff season is staring me right in the face. Pennington has had a star-crossed career, and is once again shelved, this time by a shoulder injury. Quincy F'in Carter is now the quarterback of the New York Jets. A drunk Joe Namath with one eye on Suzy Kolber would be more effective. Kill me now.

Epilogue

But regardless of all the ominous warnings, me and thousands of Jets fan just like me trudge on. Because, the stars will align one day. Our time will come. After all, this stuff can't go on forever. Right?

Wait...don't answer that question. I rather not know.


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Tuesday, November 02, 2004

The Evil-er Empire

Everybody take a deep breath. We have to talk.

First off...the awful truth. The Boston Red Sox are, indeed, world's champions. No joke. The past two weeks have not merely been a cosmic nightmare of epic proportions for Yankees fans. This really did happen. Hell did freeze over. On a related note, I’ve figured out where we can send the NHL following its lockout.

But that's beside the point. Yankees fans, present company included, should be ready for a difficult 2005. The first salvo comes in April, when the Boston home opener – and subsequent championship flag hoisting – comes in the presence (and at the expense of) the Yankees. Thanks Commissioner Selig...you dick.

Wait...there's more. Be prepared for the taunting, the t-shirts, the "Year-Two-Thousand" chants (how clever), the gay slurs and the like. It’s all there and it is not negotiable. April couldn't get further away.


Big Willie-Style.


So, that's what we're up against. In addition to blowing a season in a way not even Willie from Real World: Philadelphia could possibly imagine, the Yankees continue to be the most reviled franchise in the American sports landscape. Nobody feels bad for us. People are actually happy to see us suffer…thrilled in fact.

Luckily, I have a plan. You may deem it controversial, curious, stupid or brilliant. I personally feel it's a little bit of all of those.

It goes as follows: Instead of cowering and feeling bad for ourselves in the face of such spiteful infidelities, the Yankees and their fans should take the opposite route. It is time we fully embrace our evil reputation. Our destiny, if you will. In other words, instead of simply being portrayed as evil, the Yankees and their fans should actually become evil. Like Earthquake crushing Damian-evil, Michaels putting Jannetty through the Barbershop plate-glass window-evil, Undertaker suffocating The Ultimate Warrior in a casket-evil.

I’m talking dastardly stuff here.

So without further ado, below you’ll find a selection of new guidelines that I have forwarded to the offices of the New York Yankees. Keep your fingers crossed.


- No more water in the visitor’s dugout: Okay, let's start from the top. What do humans need to function properly? Hell, what do humans need to survive? Water. So the New York Yankees should no longer offer any fluids in the visitor's dugout. Effective April 1, 2005, no water, or any fluids that contain water, would be acceptable. This rule would include, but not be limited to, all Gatorade, PowerAde, Snapple, Coca-Cola and Pepsi-Cola products. Additionally, the visitor’s clubhouse would not longer offer a shower or bath sector, they Yankees would instead advise visiting management to procure additional deodorant products for trips to New York.

Definitely single, ladies.


-No acknowledgement of visitor presence in any way: Under this potential new policy, the visitor team would exist in theory only. The New York Yankees would no longer acknowledge visiting players when they come to bat or take the field. All fans would turn their backs and remain silent when a visiting player came to bat. Total indifference. Unless David Eckstein was involved...because he's funny to look at.

-New Promotions: Effective this season, each game versus the Boston Red Sox would feature a free give-away of Energizer “D” cell batteries. The New York Yankees would fully endorse the hurling of these products on the field of play and at members of the Boston team. There would be other special nights as well. Like "Kill Johnny Damon Night" for one, "Douse Kevin Millar In Jack Daniels In Whiskey And Set Him On Fire Night" for another.

-Stadium Improvements: Effective April 1, 2005, Yankee Stadium would be renamed Yankee Lair. Additionally, the bases would be painted red and all padded walls would be converted to black. No food would be served to paid customers not wearing Yankees merchandise. These fans would additionally be beaten and ejected.

-That's not The Bronx River, that's Denial: I like this one. The Yankees would head into the new season masquerading as if they did indeed win the Series in 2004. We would re-paint all references of 26 World Championships to have it say 27. We would have the championship ring presentation and flag-raising when the Sox come to town. The "1918" chant would continue on as always, and Red Sox fans in attendance...wait, we would take care of that problem as well.

So there you go Yankees fans. Hold your head up high and be proud. Help is on the way.
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