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Keidel: I Remain Steadfast -- Giants Will STILL Have Better Season Than Jets

By Jason Keidel
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With the help of one of my editors -- a Jets fan who will go nameless here -- I was called all manner of moron on Twitter last week for suggesting the Giants had a better shot to make the playoffs than the Jets.

And if the first two games are a microcosm of both teams, then surely I am every vulgar noun I was branded on social media. But it speaks to the New Yorker's need to draw endless conclusions after 120 minutes of football.

We see the same in baseball. After a rough week in April we stretch the stench over an entire season, forgetting that 150 games are still sprawled out before us.

I tried to elaborate on Twitter, which was useless. When the only retort I hear is "idiot" and "hack" and a galaxy of profanity, I retreat to this lovely slice of cyberspace that CBS has so kindly bequeathed me.

A football franchise isn't just an amalgam of athletes, a coach, and a ball. It's a composite of its history, of its altitude and attitude. It's a mindset, a confidence or arrogance (or insecurity, depending on the team).

So when I give the Giants more of a puncher's chance to make the playoffs, I do so in the team's totality, not just today's roster or record.

For whatever reason, most of my friends are Jets fans. Perhaps my generation lived off the fumes of our fathers, who grew up while Joe Namath captured the city's soul. And the Giants were awful deep into the '70s and early '80s. Until they drafted that linebacker out off North Carolina and hired the head coach of Air Force.

And ever since Lawrence Taylor, Bill Parcells, and Phil Simms put the Giants back on the map, they have been the face of football in the five boroughs and beyond.

Since 1986, the Giants have been to five Super Bowls. They have won four. The Jets haven't even earned the right to fight for a Lombardi, much less bag one. The Giants have a two-time world champion at head coach, and a two-time Super Bowl MVP at quarterback.

And if the HC/QB combo is still the most sacred in team sports, then how can you not give the nod to Big Blue over Gang Green?

"What's that got to do with today?" is the most common question I hear.

Well, a lot. While the NFL loves to sell itself as an anarchic league where the outhouse-to-penthouse narrative is always in play, the truth is we rarely see a losing franchise quickly morph into a winning one.

The Saints did it, but they hit the jackpot with Drew Brees and Sean Payton, a very rare confluence of timing and talent. We saw it in St. Louis, with Dick Vermeil and a kid who was bagging groceries the year before he became a Super Bowl champion. Try to find another Kurt Warner.

So when I pick the Giants over the Jets, it's the preponderance of history, of the five Super Bowls, of their innate ability to right themselves before the ship entirely tanks.

Speaking of teams with certified stars at the top of the totem pole, you see the Saints and Colts are winless, yet their bandwagons are still amply stuffed. Until you drive the nails into their playoff coffins, you will take Brees and Andrew Luck any day over Geno Smith.

No, the Giants don't have their talent. And there's a slight apples and oranges angle to my argument. But no matter the sport you see certain teams often have a certain arc. The St. Louis Cardinals, New York Yankees, Boston Red Sox, Detroit Tigers, San Antonio Spurs, Miami Heat, Green Bay Packers, New England Patriots at the top of their respective food chains with palpable frequency. It's not an accident.

We talk in cliches about winning cultures. But it's real. Just as confident and competent people are more likely to succeed, so it is with companies. We call them "organizations" in sports. And while Jerry Krause made the moronic remark that the Bulls won more as a franchise than as Michael Jordan, the overall point that players aren't nearly enough is true.

Believe it or not, we in the New York media are eager for the Jets to prosper. It's good for business. The last thing we want is to put a postmortem on Gang Green before Thanksgiving, and turn to the rancid Knicks for the rest of winter.

One thing nearly all Jets fans have in common is hubris. They talk an inordinate amount of crap. And none of it is justified. When Rex swaggered in and led them to two AFC title games, you would have thought Lombardi himself had commandeered the club.

Then, as always, they plunged down the rungs of the AFC East, with the sacred Sanchise mutating into that lost, butt-fumble mess and run out of town. Mike Tannenbaum was hurled under the team bus, and Woody Johnson doubled-down on Ryan. You can see the results.

Gotham is allergic to losing. But there are a few exceptions. The aforementioned Knicks haven't won anything in over 40 years, yet we way too often refer to them in regal hues. The Mets, who are a dynasty compared to the Knicks, are also an epic failure, but at least Mets fans have a reasonably cynical view of the team.

Jets fans, however, always chirp about the future as if the past were a charmed precursor. They barely beat the Raiders, at home, with all the momentum and mojo in the world, against a rookie quarterback, and the montage of coastal teams struggling on the other side of the continent.

Then they lost at Lambeau Field, the cradle of modern pro football. No shame in that, but the Jets fan, as always, will twist it into a pseudo-victory. Hey, we were up by almost three touchdowns! At Lambeau! We almost beat Aaron Rodgers! Jets fans love to dwell in potential, in the abstract, in the world of tomorrow, next week, next year ... yet that year never comes.

The Giants fell to the potent Lions in Detroit. Most teams would have lost that game. Then they fell to the Cardinals, who are also on the rise, and somehow squeezed out 10 wins last year in the nuclear NFC West.

I know, Big Blue lost to Drew Stanton at the Meadowlands, with all the blessed stats in their favor. West Coast teams never win East Coast games at 1 p.m. But the G-Men aren't dead, no matter how many names you call me.

And if you refuse to put the past into the equation, and only care about today, then Jets fans need to explain the 2-0 Bills, who shocked the world by beating the Bears, in Chicago, then whipped the Dolphins, who had just trounced the Patriots in Week 1.

Let's also consider that the Jets have it exponentially rougher the rest of the year. Not only do they play in a more thorny division, their schedule is scalding. Their next five games are against the Bears, Lions, Chargers, Broncos, and Patriots, all of whom are either titans or are expected to bust through the playoff bubble this year. If the 1-1 Jets just make it to 3-4, their fans should be ecstatic.

The Jets are so juicy, so fertile for us who write about football. They are a vivid, historical mural of dysfunction, self-destruction and surreal optimism. No matter how badly they play, how often they lose, how often they take you up to see the mountaintop just to slide down in an avalanche right before you reach it, you stick around.

The Jets fan always feels like they are the best team in football, inches from the goal line and Lombardi Trophy, and the dynasty we've been promised for 40 years. If nothing else, you are loyal.

In all candor, no fan deserves a championship more than a Jets fan. Between Butt Fumble and Mud Bowl and Gastineau Game, you've endured enough gridiron agony for five fans, five lifetimes. Even Curtis Martin betrayed you in the AFC title game. And he's a saint.

I don't know whether to admire or admonish the Gang Green Pollyanna. It's a great feeling to know your team will win every year. A shame they never do.

Follow Jason on Twitter at @JasonKeidel

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