While sitting beside my wife at Met Life Stadium on Sunday surrounded by mostly empty seats and watching the Washington Commanders and New York Jets play a meaningless game, I thought to myself why am I here? What would possess me to watch two mediocre teams battle for almost 3 1/2 hours before the Jets finally won with 0:05 left on a 54 yard field goal?
What triggered this soul-searching was a pr-game ceremony inducting a group of season ticket holders into the so-called Jets Fan Hall of Fame. There were women and men in this collective, welcomed by such luminaries as Fireman Ed, the leader of the J-E-T-S cheer which echoes throughout the stadium when the fans respond in full-throated ecstasy.
It was one man in particular who made me think about who I am and why I was there. The man had white beard and it was announced that he had been following the Jets since the inaugural season in 1960, when the team was nicknamed the Titans and the home games of this American Football League franchise were played in the Polo Grounds in upper Manhattan. This man had missed only five contests in his tenure as a loyal Titans/Jets fan. He had a shrine his house devoted to the team.
Wow, I thought. I have been a season ticket holder since 1977. I don’t go to every home game and I have never seen the team play on the road. A quick calculation led me to think that I have been to between 225 to 250 Jets games at its homes at Shea Stadium, Giants Stadium and in Met Life Stadium.
And I don’t have a shrine. I do not collect much memorabilia. What I have is an old team jersey which I won in a lottery. A pennant signed by Freeman Mc Neill, a star running back of yesteryear. And a ball autographed by then-Head Coach Todd Bowles to commemorate my 40th season as a season ticket holder. The team has given me three baseball caps, one of which I lost on a NJ Transit train; a clear plastic bag to carry items into the ballpark, which is very useful; a black t-shirt which I caught in a t-shirt toss in the stands a couple of years ago; plus t-shirts, a sweatshirt and a jersey gifted to me.
Look, I played freshman football in high school. Period. Which wasn’t much, probably for good reason, since I hadn’t reached my full height of 5’5”, and the coaches sought to protect me from getting clobbered too much—though I still did get hit by a sophomore and banged my head hard onto the rock-solid dirt of the practice field. Concussion protocol?
Yet there I was, sitting in the stands, rooting for my adopted team to win this game. Which they almost didn’t. I felt euphoric when the Jets jumped to a 27-7 lead. In fact, if the team had scored another touchdown, my wife and I were ready to take our warm, layered selves back home, satisfied with the victory.
Instead, I felt the same angst in the pit of my stomach. I watched the Jets blow the entire lead, and trail with little time left. I did the calculations for a field goal after watching the kicker practice before the start of the second half and knowing he could easily make a kick from 57 years.
It wan’t easy, but somehow Trevor Siemian, the fourth quarterback to play this season for the Jets, maneuvered the team into position for the winning kick. And with that, the fans who remained poured out into the impending darkness to drive home or wherever they were heading, felt a momentary bit of happiness. I shared in that glee, like I did when the team improbably defeated the Philadelphia Eagles earlier this season.
I don’t live and die for the New York Jets. But I do get cranky over the lack of winning seasons and no trips to the Super Bowl during my tenure as a paying customer (I was a fan rooting for the Jets when Joe Namath led the team to its win over Baltimore in Super Bowl III).
The hope with future Hall of Fame quarterback Aaron Rodgers to lead the team to a playoff spot fell apart early in the opening game a home versus Buffalo when Rodgers went down with a season-ending Achilles tendon injury. Jets fans held their breath, hoping that Zach Wilson, the prior incumbent at quarterback, had learned how to play better while briefly mentored by Rodgers.
However, that was not the case. Injuries and bad play took any chance of a winning season away. The defense was far better than the offense. But scoring points wins games and the offense was never consistent enough to do that.
Because I had struggled throughout the years with this team, I still watched with false anticipation that this would be the day the team righted itself. While realizing that this was a doomed season the moment Rodgers went down on the unforgiving Met Life Stadium turf.
Which is why I left Met Life on Sunday with mixed emotions. I was happy for the players who had played so hard. Yet I was angry how the lead was blown and wondering how this could have happened? Having gone from what seemed to be a sure victory to almost an unforgivable loss greatly challenged my feelings.
There are two more games left on the schedule. Thursday night the Jets visit Cleveland, where former Jets QB Joe Flacco has had a renaissance at age 38, coming from home to rescue its season and where the Browns sit at 10-5, on the precipice of a Wild Card spot.
Then there is the season finale in Foxborough, Massachusetts, when the Jets take on the New England Patriots. The once-proud franchise has seen hard times since G.O.A.T. Tom Brady left, leaving Head Coach Bill Belichick with little and nose-diving into last place in the AFC East. This could be Belichick’s last game as New England’s coach, and the team, which showed it can still play with a road victory in Denver all but eliminating the Broncos from the playoff picture, will be sky-high. Add into the equation that the Jets haven’t defeated the Patriots in eons—that will test my patience once more.
I guess I watch football because it is exciting when a great play occurs. Week 16 began with the resurgent Los Angeles Rams winning on Thursday night, keeping the team in the thick of the playoff hunt when the Rams play the Giants next week before hosting the 49’ers in the season finale.
Saturday had two games on NBC and Peacock, the latter designed to the whet fans appetite to purchase a subscription. Buffalo raised it record to 9-6, keeping alive its hopes for a playoff berth, while Pittsburgh pounded Cincinnati, another game important in the post-season picture. I watched a good chunk of those games.
When I returned home on Sunday, I caught much of the Dallas-Miami game, crucial to both teams as Dallas was pursuing Philadelphia for first place in the NFC East and Miami
needed to win to stave off Buffalo’s pursuit of the AFC East title.
Then there was the Christmas triple header. Kansas City inexplicably has lost its mojo and was soundly beaten by a hard-playing Las Vegas Raiders team which was much quicker and hungrier. Patrick Mahomes struggled mightily against a vastly improved Vegas defense.
Next up were the Giants and Eagles. New York Head Coach Brian Daboll benched the ineffective Tommy De Vito, and the G-men almost pulled off a miracle on the last play of the game. Philadelphia is not a bad squad. It is a question of how good are they?
Finally, in the big matchup, 11-3 Baltimore traveled to 11-3 San Francisco. When the carnage was over, the Ravens thoroughly outplayed the Niners, trouncing the home team by a final score of 33-19, which was not really indicative of how much the Ravens were dominant.
So, I was oversaturated with NFL games. I pledge allegiance and pay significant money to a moribund franchise which repeatedly lets me down. Yet I watch or I go sit in the stands. No other sport can cause me to do this—not basketball, as much as I loved to play to when younger, because of that height thing; not hockey, as I cannot skate and stop; nor baseball, which I was most proficient in.
Which still leaves my initial queries unanswered. What kind of fan am I and why do I watch so much football?
If you have answers, I am all ears. Until then, I am stuck being a pro football follower and a Jets loyalist. Being a Jets fan could still be better than a Detroit Pistons fan; Detroit is on the verge of setting the all-time NBA record for consecutive losses.
Final score—New York 30, Washington 28. I will be watching on Thursday. Ever faithful. Being a Jets fan is insidious?
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