The Quest for Mediocrity

After the back to back match ups of the most brutal blowout in [very recent] history and the most deflated, excessively covered win, for week 14 the Jets headed to Jacksonville. Of course the biggest story line of the week was that the son of Christ, Tim Tebow would be returning to his hometown. My question is: Why?! If Tebow was playing quarterback, if he even had a chance to play, sure. Knock yourselves out, set up a whole studio show outside his locker and hotel room, report on every time he blows his nose and wipes his ass. But Tebow didn't play. Yes, Tebow was activated over recently beloved, third string, and most importantly, healthy quarterback Greg McElroy, but that's beside the point. We saw that one coming. The winds of change could only blow for so long and sure enough it was back to Mark Sanchez and the Inconsistent Bunch.

MC-EL-ROY

Growing up, Sundays were time for my dad and I to bundle up and head to the Meadowlands. Sure, throughout my childhood the Jets were nothing to write home about, but he had season tickets and we went. One of my fondest memories will always be the game my dad and I went to in the dead of winter, easily the coldest day of the year. I don't remember who the Jets played, I don't remember the outcome of the game. What I do remember is that we layered up in so much warm clothes that we were barely able to move our extremities. I remember the thermoses of soup my mom made and the hand warmers, foot warmers, and even padded seat warmers she sent us with. I remember climbing all the way up to the top of the corner end zone section where our seats were practically the farthest from the players in the whole stadium. I remember it all because it was one of those bonding experiences with my dad that has and always will stay with me. It was hysterical. We didn't stay all game. But we went. We suited up and supported Gang Green like I have for 22 years.

I Hate You, Tom Brady

I really did not want to write this article. I really hoped that the outcome this past Sunday would have been different and I would be writing a bragging, celebratory post boasting about New England's failures and dangling first place over their heads. Sadly, that eternal itch I can't scratch, Tom Brady, did it again. God, I hate him. While the Jets fell 29-26 in an overtime heart breaker to the Patriots, all was not lost. Yes, a win's a win and a loss is a loss. I'm not one for moral victories, they don't affect the standings so they don't count. However, Sunday's battle in Foxborough proved one thing to the world: these are not the same untouchable Patriots that we've come to expect throughout the Brady/Belichick era. Of course Pats fans like to think nothing's changed, but it has.