The Leaves Have Already Begun To Fall For Me

  I have always harbored this thought about the loyal Chicago Cubs fans, who had to endure over 100 years of losing before winning the World Series in 2016. Ditto the New York Rangers fandom, of which I was one for a long while—1940 was the last time they won a title until breaking through in 1994.

That thought was simple—how did the fans survive year after year of not winning a championship? For here I am, a New York Jets season ticket holder, and I am absolutely dejected about this season. Repeatedly tormented like I’m in the Bill Murray movie Groundhog’s Day and stuck in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. 

My wife and I sat through the remnants of Tropical Storm Ophelia with the hope that the Jets would halt the 14 game losing streak to the New England Patriots, coached by the evil genius, Bill Belichick. Knowing full well that the team may have won versus Buffalo in its opener, but the next week showed all the vulnerabilities of the team as the Dallas Cowboys thrashed the Jets. (Dallas remains King of New York in football with wins over the Jets and Giants, but was humbled by Arizona in the desert on Sunday)

Without Hall of Fame quarterback Aaron Rodgers at the helm, the team has resembled  what it looked like last season. This was supposed to be a season of learning for Zach Wilson, mentored by Rodgers as the veteran had done during training camp. Wilson had shown some bits of promise during his years running the offense; last season was an utter regression for the former #2 pick in the draft. 

Thrust unexpectedly into the starting role. Wilson has not been any better. Sure, the coaching staff and the players support him. But his play has been uninspiring for the most part. Which means that the punter will be the unsung hero for the Jets, as he will get plenty of work with the team failing to score much. 

There was a clamor for the Jets to pursue a veteran quarterback—perhaps from a team which could jettison somebody or a recently retired veteran. Laughingly, even Tom Brady’s name was floated as a one year replacement. Instead, the team remains led by Wilson and he is backed up by one Tim Boyle. Query: why didn’t the Jets get a veteran backup in case Rodgers did indeed go down like he did?

Yesterday, while the Miami Dolphins hung 70 points on the woeful Denver Broncos and Buffalo routed Washington on the road, New England secured its first win of the season in dominant fashion, even if the score was only 15-10 and the Jets actually had a chance to win the game on the final play as Wilson’s desperation heave into the end zone glanced off the arm of wide receiver Randall Cobb and fell to the ground. New York is at the bottom of the AFC East, tied with the Patriots, but headed downward fast. 

On Sunday night, the defending champion Kansas City Chiefs come to town, with star Patrick Mahomes II perhaps a doubtful participant after suffering an ankle injury which hampered his mobility only so much in a 41-10 romp over the Chicago Bears. The Jets will be a big underdog; the only question will be if tight end Travis Kelce’s reported girlfriend, singer Taylor Swift, will attend. She was clad in Chiefs’ gear, seated in the Kelce family seats next to his mother, cheering on her beau and attended a post-game party at a chic restaurant.

That’s what it has come to for the Jets. Wondering how bad the next loss will be and whether or not Taylor Swift will be at Met Life Stadium. 

The only time the Jets won the Super Bowl was in the 1969 season. As Rodgers deadpanned, that single trophy inside the Atlantic Health Jets Training Center in Florham Park, New Jersey looked awfully lonely. 

And it will remain so as long as Zach Wilson is guiding the team. Sure, there will be some possible wins. The fairly solid defense will get worn down—at times it looked very vulnerable when attacked by New England QB Mac Jones. Then there will be nothing but another season of despair. What makes this worse is that three games into the season you can stick a knife into the Jets—they are done, just like a Thanksgiving turkey.

In some Monday morning quarterbacking, I watched college football this weekend. Starting on Thursday night, when Franklin and Marshall pounded The College of New Jersey. This arrangement of the Centennial Conference against the New Jersey Athletic Conference has been one-sided—surprisingly well in favor for the Centennial schools. We’ll see how the Diplomats fare against arch-rival Dickinson in the conference opener. 

The talk of Rutgers having improved based on three wins over Northwestern, Temple and Virginian Tech—all at home—meant nothing in the first road contest at Michigan. The Wolverines may have struggled early. The final score of 31-7 showed how the #2-ranked team is light years ahead of the Scarlet Knights, as Michigan shut out Rutgers for the final 59 minutes of play. 

I don’t think Michigan is the second-best team in the country. I watched Ohio State make an improbable comeback in Notre Dame Stadium on Saturday night, to stun the Irish by scoring the winning touchdown with one tick left on the clock. The Buckeyes, currently occupying the fourth spot in the rankings, looked every bit as good as a team like defending champion Georgia, or Texas, which has defeated Alabama and Baylor on the road.

Also, #6 Penn State vanquished Iowa on Saturday night, shutting out the Hawkeyes. Fifth-ranked Florida State was fortunate to roar back at Clemson to win in overtime. 

Every one of these teams has championship aspirations; Alabama too. So do the Pac-12 schools: USC, Utah and Washington. Even #16 Washington State believes it can win the crown this season, perhaps in a poetic justice fashion as the conference folds. 

It is going to get interesting as conference play takes center stage. At least we learned that Oregon, ranked ninth, demolished Deion Sanders’ Colorado Buffaloes. We should have seen it coming—lightly-regarded Colorado State took its in-state rival to OT the week before, exposing the myriad of weaknesses the Buffs have. 

By the way, the Atlantic Coast Conference has six unbeaten schools, which ties the ACC with the Southeastern Conference of 2012 with the most teams in a Power 5 conference since the polls started in 1936. That’s FSU, Miami, Louisville, Syracuse, plus arch-rivals North Carolina and Duke. It is the first time since 1971 that the Tar Heels and Blue Devils have been undefeated in their first four contests. Duke is such a feel good story that ESPN is sending its College Game Day crew to Durham ahead of Saturday’s clash with Notre Dame. 

What was surprising was Bryant defeating Princeton in overtime. Bryant evened its record at 2-2, with a loss at UNLV, a win over LIU and a loss to Brown. Princeton won its opener at San Diego, and this loss ended a 17 game non-conference winning streak for the Tigers. 

Also in the Ivy League, Harvard soundly defeated Brown. Yale is 0-2, having lost to a tough Holy Cross team, ranked #6 in the FCS, which has only a three point loss to Boston College to mar its record, and then was soundly beaten by Cornell. 2-0 Harvard faces Holy Cross this week; 1-1 Columbia roars into Princeton on Friday night. Unbeaten Penn hosts Dartmouth on Saturday. Handicapping the Ivy League to the end of the season is going to be hard to do. 

Being merciful to my readers about the eliminated New York Yankees, Gerrit Cole shut down the Blue Jays in a masterful performance on Thursday night to all but secure the AL Cy Young Award. Deservedly so. 

On Friday night, Aaron Judge reminded us why he is great. Three home runs and a double, six runs batted in. First Yankee to have two three home run games in a single season. 

The AL East, overall home field and Wild Card spots have not yet been settled. In the National League, the 100-win Atlanta Braves have not yet secured the top seed, leading the Dodgers by 3.5 games. There is still Wild Card drama involving Arizona, the Cubs, Florida and Cincinnati. MLB should be fairly happy heading Into the final week of the season. 

For me, it is just another fruitless season for the Jets, and what has become a regular occurrence for the Yankees after last winning the World Series in 2009.

While it is Autumn, the leaves have already begun to fall for me. 

I Remain A Fan

  I am a sports fan. First and foremost. I like watching meaningless games as much as I enjoy rooting for my teams. ESPN, the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament and a whole lot of regional sports networks help to sate my thirst for sports. Heck, I watched Wild World of Sports and the CBS Sports Spectacular just because they were on. 

As much as watching a meaningful matchup between Texas and Alabama was enjoyable, so too was seeing highlights of Delaware playing Penn State for the first time ever in football. The Yankees are having a losing season—it puts a damper on the last 18 games as they swoon through September. But I still manage to check out Amazon Prime or the YES Network in the hope that the team wins a game or two to avoid the ending the season with a losing record. 

I watched the Atlanta Braves when we received TBS. The Phillies on Channel 17. Even the odd NESN Red Sox game, too. I enjoyed watching out-of-market Stanley Cup hockey in the infancy of the MSG Network when the Rangers were eliminated. I don’t avert my eyes at the gym when a golf member controls the remote and his sport is on the tube. 

I’m not going to say that I didn’t watch pro wrestling—though not the way it is broadcast now. I knew who Gorilla Monsoon was and that Haystacks Calhoun was no hillbilly. Vince Mc Mahon is still a heel—just a very rich one. 

Name a sport—I have probably watched it. Australian Rules Football? Yup. Rugby? Of course. International badminton? Yes. Champions League? I’ve watched. 

It’s not to say that I haven’t had my favorite sports and teams. Those who read this blog regularly know that I am a dyed-in-the-wool New York Yankees fan. My history with this franchise goes back to 1957. There have been more championships won than any other team during that span. 

There have been bad teams. There have been winning teams like no other—the 1998 version is perhaps the greatest squad of all time. 

Chris Chambliss. Bucky Dent. Aaron Boone. Heroes with walk off home runs. 

Pittsburgh’s Bill Mazeroski ruined my 1960 World Series, when he homered off Ralph Terry. Mariano Rivera’s 2001 meltdown in Arizona is another big hurt. 

How about the Mets? I don’t hate the Mets. I just love the Yankees. I watched them from the outset in 1962. I’ve been to my share of games at the Polo Grounds, Shea Stadium and Citi Field. The Bill Buckner error happened on my birthday in 1986. 

I think their broadcast crews have been different than those the Yankees put on air. But I have also thought that while they play in the big leagues, the Mets are not the big, bad Yankees—even if they improbably won two Word Series.  

It was a no brainer for me when both franchises clashed in 2000; my cheering was absolutely one-sided. Should they meet again, my feelings would be the same. Any other opportunity for the Mets, I am rooting hard for them. 

I do like the Baltimore Orioles. Something about going to Camden Yards all these years has been intoxicating. However, when the Yankees and Mets visited, I was not pulling for the home team.

I have other favorites. Rutgers football and men’s basketball are on my list. I used to sneak into the old Rutgers Stadium with discarded tickets to see the Scarlet Knights play Lafayette, Columbia or Colgate. Ever since I went in 1965, I was addicted to Rutgers hoops—even having a partial plan to whet my chops. And while I only took a writing course in New Brunswick while in high school along with a bar review course in 1975, I did like going to the College Avenue Gym to play pick up basketball.

My love/hate relationship with the New York Rangers originated with Saturday night hockey on WOR-TV and a birthday trip to the old Madison Square Garden on Eighth Avenue. It expanded to an 11 year run with season tickets in the next-to-the last row of the present Garden. 

Islanders and Flyers games were special. A few sniffs of the playoffs and some memorable overtime wins. Then raising a family called.

It’s not that I still don’t root for the Rangers. Just not when they are playing the New Jersey Devils. In the later 1980’s and 1990’s, I became part of a community of lawyers who had a Devils ticket plan. The local team became MY team. I saw the Stanley Cup paraded around the rink. And I watched the hated team from across the Hudson River eliminate the Devils. Scott Stevens. Martin Brodeur. Legendary Devils. Fan favorites as well as mine. 

My attachment is such to this NJ franchise—all those cold walks on the pedestrian bridge over Route 20 notwithstanding—that my son are in the midst of trekking to all the Canadian NHL cities to see the Devils play. I do have my loyalty. 

Then there is pro football. When I was young, it was the New York Football Giants (meant to distinguish the team from the baseball team which occupied the Polo Grounds through 1957). I cheered for the Giants when they were in the Super Bowl. They are the long-standing New York pro football franchise. 

However, in 1961, the American Football League came into existence. The games were televised on NBC. They were exciting. Only the New York team—the Titans—was lousy. Plus with blackout rules, home games were not on TV. 

When Sonny Werblin made a splash and bought the team, he showed he was also a genius at self-promotion. Which is why he outbid the NFL for one Joe Willie Namath, quarterback out of Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania and the University of Alabama. Namath was outrageous in his behavior, yet he had the talent to back it up. There is one Lombardi Trophy inside the Jets’ complex in Florham Park. Courtesy of Joe Wille Namath. 

While I watched the Jets, I was still a Giants fan. I had always thought the coolest thing would be a Giants season ticket holder traveling on home Sundays to the Bronx. A packed Yankee Stadium was a sight to behold. 

I made it through college and law school, passed the bar and found a job with the State of New Jersey Public Defender’s Office Appellate Section in East Orange. I teamed with my sister, a fledgling rare coin dealer, and we purchased both New York Jets and the aforementioned Rangers tickets. 

My association with the Jets has been mercurial since 1977. My sister has her own tickets downstairs, as she is wildly successful. I transitioned from the fourth row at the 32 yard line at Giants Stadium to not purchasing a seat license and being on the same yard line, albeit in the ninth row of the upper deck of Met Life Stadium.

For many years, the Jets have been mediocre. Full of promise at the start, but never fulfilling the dream. I actually was under a half away from going to a Super Bowl when Denver roared back to win in 1999. That was my greatest disappointment—the closest I have ever come to attending the big game. Until Monday.

I was still sick with my Urinary Tract Infection, and though the doctors tell me I am getting better, with the illness, I had to give the tickets to a neighbor. Not very happy then.

This was the year of the hype. Future Hall of Fame quarterback Aaron Rodgers had left Green Bay to lead the Jets to the Promised Land. HBO’s Hard Knocks swelled the enthusiasm that this might finally be the season of redemption. 

Which all fell apart four plays into the game when Rodgers was tackled and sustained an Achilles tendon tear. I was morose. Perhaps the most devastated I have been as a fan. 

Yes, the Jets won the game behind Zach Wilson, the next in line of quarterbacks drafted to win here in New York. It took the Buffalo Bills to perform subpar and a miraculous winning punt return. 

I still haven’t quite gotten over what happened on Monday night. Perhaps the greatest saving grace was that my wife and I weren’t there as originally planned. 

The loss of Rodgers still stings—even if his coming to New York might never have panned out. Something we’ll probably never know. 

What I am going to do is continue to support my team. Maybe this team is one of destiny after all. Perhaps the time Wilson spent with Rodgers tutoring him may have changed the wunderkind. 

One thing never changes in the equation. For all of my teams, no matter how bad things get, I remain a fan.

What A Drag, After All

  I thought this would be a fun, exciting weekend to watch sports. Was I ever wrong. 

I should have known on Thursday when I was at the gym doing my upper body work, and it was more than tad difficult. Or on Friday, when my stationary bicycle day, which is usually my easiest, wasn’t. And that was with the newly installed A/C unit making the room most tolerable. 

Nor was I pleased when I went to do yard work on a brilliant Friday afternoon with a tolerable sun. Carrying a ladder to trim a tree became a chore. The two hours outdoors was daunting. 

Did this deter me? Not one bit. Back at the gym for legs day and it was tough. Then again, it is always the toughest day of my exercise week. 

I shrugged this off, even as my legs were a little sorer than usual on Saturday night and when I awoke on Sunday morning. Yet I was full steam ahead, doing the food shopping and helping my wife get ready for our ride to Highland Park, where we would park the car and head with our friends to SHI Stadium. 

Getting to Highland Park and over to the yellow lot near the stadium was easy. Surprisingly so, since it was a hot day, with temperatures in the 90’s and along with a cloudless sky. I figured day tripping sun worshippers would pack the Garden State Parkway, and the home opener for Rutgers was predicted to be a sellout. Insubstantial traffic in both places. 

We downed our pre-game tailgate meal (it was Wawa hoagies) and bantered as we always do. Entering the stadium about 40 minutes before kickoff was uneventful. 

Then we sat down. And that unmerciful sun beat down upon us. I thought I had hydrated well that morning at home, on the drive down and while eating. I also put on a copious amount of sun screen and wore a New Jersey Devils 1995-96 championship hat. All to no avail.

The first quarter was action-packed yet took 45 minutes. The sun was creeping towards my right shoulder, which was closest to the overhang of the upper deck. Finally, early in the second quarter, my legs and body ached horribly. I felt terrible. But of course, I didn’t want to leave—tethered to sports as I am. 

I left my seat and stretched my legs. It helped a little. Then I went searching for water. The lines were enormous—shorter across the field, but still in the sun. I returned with drinks for everyone and downed most of mine early into the third quarter. 

My body was failing me even more. The pain increased. Yet I wanted to gut it out for everyone. I was uncertain that the outcome of the game had been determined (it was), so I soldiered on into the final quarter. 

When play wasn’t producing anything exciting, I waved the white flag. I must have looked dreadful, because that was the way I felt. I could have sprinted to where the car was parked just to get into cooler air. 

Upon reaching our car and saying our goodbyes, my body was giving me a a battle. I went through a bottle of water and that did little to help. The ride home was okay until I hit Clark on the Parkway. The traffic quickly ground to a halt. I had to make a decision—continue on to see how the traffic progressed or ease the car off to Exit 135 and travel through Westfield  to home and safety. 

The churning of New Jersey State Trooper vehicle lights gave me the impetus to get off the roadway quickly. While I had to navigate the slower streets, it proved to be a lifesaver. 

I hopped into bed, in a sweat suit and then a bathrobe. I was freezing. I took my temperature and it was 102.3. I was sick—from heat exhaustion and what I would later learn the next day, a virus. Not COVID, which is having a late Summer resurgence. I had three negative tests in two days. 

It took me three days and a visit to City MD, a cough suppressant and help from a medical professional to start to get my illness under control. A lot of sweating, temperature variation and a day without eating much of anything was part of the process. No matter what the mind wanted, exercise was out of the question because multiple family members threatened serious bodily harm if I tried, and I wasn’t near being able to defend myself. 

Nonetheless, your intrepid sports reporter managed to see Rutgers down Northwestern 21-7. RU excelled, especially on defense. 

Northwestern was expected to be at the bottom of the Big Ten standings. While the team showed spirit, the talent level showed that the Wildcats were undermanned against a Scarlet Knights team which perhaps was that much better than its foe. This was one game. Too early to make a judgment on how good RU might be. 

Oh, that near sellout at SHI Stadium? Over 53,000 were supposedly in attendance. They must have been disguised as aluminum bleachers, or those who didn’t show had the audacity to not to tempt heat exhaustion but rather watched the game as it was nationally televised by CBS.

Even after hopping into a bath and then using cold compresses on my legs, I watched the Yankees game in Houston. The Baby Bombers had injected life into a moribund team, and New York was playing for a rare road series sweep in Texas. New York riddled pitcher Justin Verlander, the Hall of Fame lock, on Friday night including a first MLB swing by Jason Dominguez, he of the effervescent smile, which landed in the left field seats, and another mauling of what is now the top team in the AL West on Saturday.

I managed to stay awake until the top of the fifth inning with the Yanks trailing 1-0. I thought that all good things must come to an end. Surprise, the young Yankees rallied and beat the Astros 6-1. It must have been a fun plane ride home. 

Labor Day Monday was a day spent in bed or on couches. When awake, I believe I saw Duke beat Clemson for the first time since 2004, and it wasn’t close. The arrogant Tigers were cold-cocked by a Blue Devils team that looked just better. Duke QB Riley Leonard’s 44 yard TD run was spectacular. NJ native Mike Elko, who grew up in South Brunswick, has made this team into a force in the ACC. 

I also caught a little of the Phillies-Padres game. What was supposed to be a battle between two really good teams was won by the one team which was good enough to make it to the World Series, while all the money spent in beautiful San Diego was for nothing this season. While the Braves splattered the Dodgers this weekend in LA taking 3 out of 4, I have a real liking for the Phis as they head through September to the playoffs, where they will likely play the Milwaukee Brewers, leaders of the NL Central. 

Tuesday I was up enough to watch Novak Djokovic take apart American Taylor Fritz, who had never beaten the Serb. Unless something goes awry in the semifinals, it will be Djokovic and Carlos Alcaraz. That will be fun. Plus the youthful Yankees again led the team past the Tigers. Good medicine for my ailment. 

It is Wednesday as I first write this blog and I am feeling better. Not near 100%. But better. Except that Verizon FIOS is out locally and I can’t watch the Yankees. They won anyway. 

Thursday night was brutal. Terrible chills. A 103.6 degrees temperature. Not what I expected. I needed to get better for the final game of the Tigers-Yankees series and the NFL opener between Detroit and Kansas City.

So I ended up in RWJ Barnabas Emergency Room for 6 excruciating hours. 3 IV’s. Meds. Sweating. Not eating breakfast until 4:00 P.M. 

The verdict—a Urinary Tract Infection. I am on meds for that, plus I will drink lots of Gatorade and use Tylenol and Aleve to curb my fever. Still waiting on some cultures to confirm what I have. Going to see my urologist and I have talked with my primary care physician and conferred with one retired dentist. 

But I was home in plenty of time for Pardon The Interruption, the opening act for Thursday night. I am going to let my wife cook. I need a shower. The oppressive heat will end with T storms. Not what I anticipated. And Carlos Rondon returned to bust form as the Yankees were mauled by the Tigers.

What a drag, after all.