Yeah, That's About Right

CK and I went to the Meadowlands yesterday for Jets / Eagles, and a moment that I witnessed in the stands during the second half would have been hilarious if it didn't so aptly capture not only a glaring problem with this Jets squad, but also the collective psyche of the Jet faithful.

Sitting in front of me was a round, awkward 14-year-old kid with his dad, sharing that time-honored tradition of the father-son ballgame. The kid had the look of somebody who takes lots of shit in school, but silently perseveres in spite of it. He was decked out in a black Jets fireman's hat (inspired, no doubt, by Fireman Ed) and a white #10 Chad Pennington jersey. Every big play had him leaping to his feet, whooping and hollering -- a huge fan of Gang Green.

About ten minutes into the the third quarter, the Jets put together a modest drive to midfield. On third and 3 from the 50, Pennington threw what in the major leagues would be called a "fat pitch" - a wounded, wobbling duck lofted towards one-on-one coverage near the left sideline. It was a hideous throw from the moment it left Pennington's hand, and you could almost hear the collective sucking of breath from a crowd sensing disaster as the ball floated through the air. It was a jump ball on the sideline, and the Jets did not come up with it. Interception. Drive over.

The 14-year-old sat in his seat quietly as the play came to an end, contemplating another crappy performance by the Jet quarterback and another crappy performance by the Jets as a team. Then in one swift motion, he ripped off his Pennington jersey and disgustedly threw it at his father. Reaching into a bag at his feet, he pulled out a #20 Thomas Jones throwback jersey and shrugged into it. He did not get to his feet for the remainder of the game until it was time to leave.

Post script: Jones rushed for 130 yards yesterday - two more yards than Pennington threw for.