Keidel: Sadly, The Giants And Jets Are Partying Like It's 1976
By Jason Keidel
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Now that the Jets have set the sport back six decades, playing a game that summoned the Seven Blocks of Granite, it has become tough to slap new, semantic stickers on the state of Tri-State football.
Have our two NFL teams ever been worse? Has there ever been a more deflating weekend of football than the Giants gagging to the one-win Jaguars and then the Jets choking to the Dolphins? Have both teams ever had a bleaker future? You'd be hard-pressed to find two teams in one town who have landed on the bleak shores of five combined wins on Dec. 2.
No matter how obdurate or optimistic a fan you may be, there's no algorithm that has both head coaches, general managers, and starting quarterbacks back next season. Some brass and personnel will be stuffed into the corporate blender this winter, and what pours out will be anyone's guess.
So after taking a joyride down the decades, it was hard to summon a season when both teams were this wretched, which is saying something considering how dubious both histories have been. And since the Jets didn't officially join the NFL until after they beat the Baltimore Colts in 1969, we'll restrict our search to the Super Bowl era.
In 2003, the Jets (6-10) and Giants (4-12) combined for 10 wins, which feels like nirvana compared to 2014. In 1995, Gang Green was a robust 3-13, while Big Blue finished 5-11, making eight total wins a attainable goal for today's two juggernauts.
Indeed, we must go back to the Bicentennial to find the last time two NYC football teams were this putrid. While 1976 was a fine year for American cinema (Rocky, Taxi Driver, Marathon Man, Network, etc.) it was probably the most haunting year for our two football teams -- at least until this year.
Back when the Jets were playing on the dusty baseball diamond of Shea Stadium and the Giants hopped the Hudson to play their first season at the newly-minted Meadowlands edifice, Giants Stadium, both NY/NJ teams finished 3-11. The Giants had just finished a three-year odyssey of playing home games in the Yale Bowl and sharing Shea with the Jets, while our last true, five-borough franchise was sinking into the post-Namath abyss.
Most of you weren't alive, and I admit I was a bit young to be invested. At 6 years old in September, 1976, I was just getting wrapped in my first Terrible Towel, gearing up for two Super Bowls from my beloved black & gold.
New York City was quite different in the '70s. Times Square was, well, you kinda had to be here to understand. Likewise, the fine print on our football allegiances weren't very well defined. It's a given now that you grow up in town and surrender your heart to your local team. Kids today grew up on Bill Parcells, who worked his wizardry on both our football clubs. If you're a Giants fan of a certain vintage, you have enjoyed four Super Bowl titles. And even if you're a 25-year-old Gang Green devotee, you remember when Tuna took you deep into January, just 30 minutes (and a Curtis Martin fumble) from the Super Bowl.
Not so much in 1976, when the Giants were coached by Bill Arnsparger, until he was fired in October and replaced with John McVay. Craig Morton was the starting quarterback for 12 games, Norm Snead for two. Doug Kotar was the halfback, Larry Csonka was the fullback, and the iconic Ray Rhodes and Jim Robinson were the wideouts. The past was brutal, and the future was baleful.
The Jets still had their iconic QB, but Namath was a fraction of his former brilliance, starting just eight games, throwing for 1,090 yards, four TDs, and 16 interceptions. The faerie dust had clearly blown off Broadway Joe. And in case you're curious, their coach was Lou Holtz. Yes, that Lou Holtz. It would be a while before Richard Todd, Ken O'Brien, Joe Klecko, and Mark Gastineau would make the Jets again relevant, if not quite dominant.
It is a kind of cruelty to remind you of those years. Or is it? Does the time portal give you perspective or hypertension? Can it get worse than 1976? If so, are we seeing it now? Our local football franchises are 3-9 and 2-10, respectively, which deserves no respect. But it will take just two wins in eight combined games to keep the co-tenants at MetLife from being the worst local duet in history.
But at least the spirit of '76 was celebratory. All of us who were there remember the fireworks from our Bicentennial. On July 4, the night sky over the Hudson River boomed with endless rainbows. And countless, breathless, kids my age watched from the front row, on the edge of Riverside Park.
Now the next sound you'll hear, the next powder keg exploding, will be Woody Johnson and John Mara canning two coaches. That's notable, but not worth celebrating.
Follow Jason on Twitter at @JasonKeidel
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