Keidel: Jets Reach New Low In Mile High
By Jason Keidel
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Tim Tebow, the soporific sophomore quarterback (according to Darrelle Revis) is now 4-1, wheeling and kneeling his way up the food chain. Tebow indeed put the Jets to sleep. This time it’s eternal.
Correct. I’m calling the Jets grounded. Dead. Muerto. Finished. Put the post mortem in bold ink: Gang Green killed by gangrene, a fungus spawned by hubris.
Rex Ryan is learning that your moves are magnified when you’re 5-4.
(Sorry, I mean 5-5.)
When the HC of the NYJ flashed a middle finger at some MMA event, the fans’ refrain was, aw, that’s our Rex! Those were the good old days, when Rex was fresh on the scene, doing his Broadway Joe best to boost the fan base.
But then 2011 happened. Then Rex dropped a nuclear F-Bomb after losing to the Patriots. Then Rex called out his quarterback, saying Sanchez did one of the “stupidest thing” he’d ever seen. With each egregious loss, Ryan is having his smirk smacked off his face. The joke is increasingly on him.
Even the normally reserved Revis bought the bravado, saying that Tebow’s tactics could put the Jets’ defense to sleep by dint of his dearth of passing prowess. To a man, the Jets seemed to regard the Denver Broncos as an embellished wishbone team better suited for the Big 12 than the NFL.
The problem with all the talk is we record it. And eventually the deeds must surpass all the posturing. Now the Jets must win five of their next six games to have a chance at a cherished – and promised – spot in the playoffs.
How does a 5-5 team become a 5-1 team? It doesn’t. The Jets live on the residue of their righteousness. Ryan makes a guarantee. It doesn’t happen. He is forgiven. His fallback position has been two trips to the AFC title game, a contest his team won’t sniff this season.
There are so many ironies. Tebow, the one-dimension wonder whom everyone (particularly the Jets) dissed and dismissed, is the one who drives the stake through the Jets’ season. Rex Ryan, the brother, son, and self-diagnosed defensive guru, gave Tebow the ball, on his own 5-yard-line, with six minutes left, and couldn’t stop him.
Mark Sanchez, cleverly coined Sanchise, was supposed to be the real QB on the field last night, primed to assert his spot as a Super Bowl player – until he threw a pick-six in the third quarter that let the Broncos back in the game. Friar Tuck took care of the rest.
Tebow, who has set the secular world aflame by having the gall to give his God credit for his success, inspiring a cadre of comics to mock his modest prayer, is stumbling his way to wins. There’s nothing normal about Tebow. You cringe when he throws but clap at his results. He should not win, yet he does.
After all his faux pas, Ryan defends himself by saying he won’t change who he is. No one is asking you to change, Rex. Your fans are asking you for a Super Bowl ring. You promised, after all. Three times.
The Jets held the ball longer, had more plays, more yards, fewer penalties – and fewer points. All the oddities and earmarks of a Tim Tebow game. Tebow might be a one trick pony. But his act includes making the Jets vanish.
Feel free to email me: Keidel.Jason@gmail.com
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