By Jason Keidel
There is a rather forgettable program on television called “Low Winter Sun,” which the world only knows because it followed “Breaking Bad” for two months.
The title could double as the mantra for New York sports this year. Mariano is gone. Pettitte followed. The Yanks could be in rare, rebuild mode. The Mets lost Matt Harvey long after they lost their season. The Giants are a staggering 0-4. The Jets are returning to their forlorn form. The Knicks aren’t even the best team in the five boroughs.
(The 10 people who watch hockey on remote, cable outposts can comment on the rest.)
If that weren’t enough, we saw Russell Martin hit two homers on Tuesday night, followed by A.J. Burnett starting in the NLDS. Then we can enjoy Scott Kazmir and Nick Swisher in the ALDS.
Yes, it seems the sports gods have taken a robust bite out of the Big Apple. And there seems to be no sanctuary in sight. Soon our city will be hijacked by carpet bagging media, squatting in Times Square, while Carson Daly and Ryan Seacrest begin the countdown to a Super Bowl that will surely not include one of our teams.
I am not rubbing it in, by the way. This is meant to commiserate, not denigrate. I am a Steelers fan, equally lost in the absurd folly they call a football team in 2013. The last time they were this wretched they had yet to hire Chuck Noll or draft Joe Greene.
Then you have the haters popping up like weeds, pelting you with texts and tweets and Facebook posts and other nauseating fare. They’ve waited for years — decades! — for the Yanks or Giants or my beloved black & gold to tank. And now they have their day. Don’t respond to them; it will only inspire more ignorant, vitriolic noise.
The only fun we can have is when the NBA season starts and we may resume our yearly ‘Melodrama. The Carmelo Kool-Aid addicts still think a me-first gunner who averages one assist can lead a team to a title. Ten years and counting with Carmelo; 40 years and counting for the Knickerbockers.
This is quite a blow to our elitist sensibilities. While we almost never agree on any team or topic, we are homogenous on the notion that New York is the best city on earth, despite our need to wear a paper bag over our heads on our way to work.
God bless Antrel Rolle, who declared that his G-Men will run the table, 12-0 the rest of the way, despite the Wikileaks in his team’s offensive line, secondary, and special teams. Rolle is paid to be an optimist. The rest of you are paying for it.
At least we have Breaking Bad reruns.
Please follow Jason on Twitter at @JasonKeidel
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