Category: New York Jets

There’s a gun pointed right in his face, and Curtis Martin isn’t scared, for that momentary time has passed. No, he is defiant, fearless in acceptance. He’s almost in a trance, captured by abject, inert peace. His fate, predicated in ghoulish, tragic nightmares, would be sealed and delivered, his destiny fruitlessly revealed, amiss in any grand design. His worst inclinations would be proved absolute in their truth, life, only through it’s conclusion, would at long last have essence.  In a world only continued only through confusion, finally, an unbreakable certainty could and would exist: Curtis Martin is free to die.  

Pennington drops back to pass and just sits there, prone, alone, under pressure in the pocket. The offensive line is under siege, armed torpedoes clad in black and gold launch themselves full bore, attempting to penetrate the line of scrimmage.

He has no time, knows it, and prepares a pass. Only, his throwing motion is awkward, discomforting to watch, bound to unleash yet another dying quail. Two steps are taken, meaningful, painful steps, before the fling could be completed.

It sails out of his fingertips, destined for doom, caught in the wind, dying slow.

He’s playing hurt, and will never be what he was, will never to continue to be who he is, and will never be properly acknowledged for his sacrifice. This is the definition of injustice, a miscarriage of information, the Legend of Chad Pennington, almost utterly unheard of.  

Back in February the Jets appeared to be in a good position with the number four pick in this years draft. The Texans would take Bush, the Saints would take Young or Leinart, the Titans would take whoever the Saints didn’t pick, and the Jets would have their choice between Cutler and Ferguson. Oh if only life in the NFL were that easy.

Now the Jets number four pick seems less than desirable for their needs. When the Saints signed Drew Brees the Jet front office must have simultaneously said, “OH (Fill in the expletive).” Currently the Jets find themselves in quite a pickle with their position in this year’s draft.

Late Monday night, the New York Jets announced that they indeed had a new coach for the 2006 season.  So, who would it be?  Mike Tice?  Jim Haslett?  Mike Sherman?  No, it would be the “frontrunner” from last week – Eric Mangini.  Wait….WHO?  That’s right, Eric Mangini, the defesnive coordinator for the New England Patriots in 2005.  The Jets are expected to make the hiring official on Tuesday.

So inevitably, the question will be asked: Why did the Jets want Mangini so badly?  Do they think this move will work?  What happens if this move blows up from the start?  The following explains 3 pros and cons about the hiring of Mangini, with the bad news (the cons) listed first…

Matthew 20:16 — "So, the last will be first, and the first will be last"

Because the colors.

The years blur together. Speed past one of many haunted avenues. Fullback Leon Johnson has a decision to make. While galloping along the rock hard turf surfacing Detroit’s Super Dome, he can either break forward past a line of scrimmage for the temporary salvation of a broken play, or he can pass, play the hero of circumstance, and prove one of Bill Parcells’ worst game deciding hunches correct. A berth in the playoffs is in the balance. A season after finishing 1-15, the New York Jets, official punch line for the A.F.C., are a single decision away from a previously unthinkable wild card invitation to the Post Season. The clock is ticking. Lion defenders, also fighting with vigor for their Playoff lives, viciously close in on Johnson. A touchdown pass would have won it.

An interception lost it.

The Jets go home.

   Home field advantage. Every team in professional sports enjoys it. Every team expects it. Every team deserves it. But then there is the New York Jets, who have been playing in another state since 1984. They have not played a legitimate home game in over 20 years. This has all been by choice. And recently when they have a chance to have their own stadium right in Queens, they are in negotiations with the Giants to build a new stadium in New Jersey. They may once again be playing in another team’s building for 16 games and further alienate their loyal fans.

With Jets QB Chad Pennington likely done for the year, is it time for the Jets to move on in the draft?  Is it fair to call an end to the Chad Pennington Era?

It’s things like this that make us remember that athletes are more human than we like to think they are.

Laveranues Coles, one of the most feared wide receivers in the NFL, has admitted publicly that he was sexually abused as a child and into his young teenage life by his stepfather.

Jets opening day is right around the corner and I couldn’t be more excited. I know what you’re thinking, How can anyone be excited about the Jets after their miserable performance against Kansas City? Well, the NFL season is a marathon, not a sprint. Nonetheless whether your team is 1-0 or 0-1 going into their first home game you have to be excited.

I am hoping to keep a running diary of all the Jet home games this year. I hope to fill you in on the riveting J-E-T-S chant, the crazy drunks that sit behind me (and believe me there is always a good story about them), and hopefully a great Jet season. I have to say if the Jets continue to play like little leaguers this idea of a diary may be short lived.

 It’s a distant sound in the back of my mind, hibernating, but still resonating. My focus lies with Baseball, as it always has and always will during these scorching summer months, playing out as poetry in motion over the course of it’s 162 game climb to the play offs and beyond. But still, that itch persists. And as I begin to scratch, the memories come fast and furious comparable to a high -speed collision near the sideline during the fourth quarter of a tie game. My mind travels to the Leon Johnson half back pass and stills asks Why Bill Why? It looks mournfully at the Richie Anderson fumble and bemoans a lost Super Bowl dream. It surveys Vinny Testaverde’s Achilles injury on week one like a rubber necking motorist trapped in an endless traffic jam. It tours past Raiders and Ravens ending Jets’ seasons of the past, wrapped together in one dark collage. And then there’s Doug Brien. He owns a wing of torment all his own.  Finally, escaping the past, my mind turns to the future, and one question stills continues to be asked, even in the heat of the most unpredictable Yankee season since 1995. Is this the year the Jets finally get it right? The punctuation is not usually a question mark, but rather a twisting football careening through the air off the foot of Doug Brien, destined to go laughably wide.