Keidel: Sucker-Punch Episode More A Referendum On Jets' Checkered History
By Jason Keidel
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Where do we begin?
Every pun has been posted.
Geno Smith threw the first punch and it sailed over the target.
IK Enemkpali did the Jets a favor.
The Jets finally know what we've known all along, that Geno Smith can't start at quarterback.
One of the more clever counters came from The Daily News -- Broadway Jaw.
But water cooler humor aside, Tuesday's appalling moment was about more than a punch, an injury, and a player cut for his lack of impulse control.
This speaks to the cloud, the curse, the hex, the hoax, that covers the New York Jets, who haven't played in New York in more than 30 years, and haven't played in a Super Bowl for more than 40 years.
Everyone who spent significant time on a football field, from Aaron Rodgers to Cris Carter to Boomer Esiason, has talked about the old codas of the sport. All agree that players control the locker room. Most agree that the Jets lack control of theirs, and that the punch had nothing to do with football.
But none of them can recall a time when a peripheral player strolled up to the starting quarterback and decked him. And that speaks to the institutional impotence, incompetence, and ignominy that has hovered over the Jets for decades.
It doesn't matter if Geno Smith owed $600 or $600,000. The fight transcended the two participants. Tuesday wasn't just a beef between jocks, something to be stuffed under the locker room rug. It was a referendum on a franchise.
This comes weeks after Sheldon Richardson assured us his name would never again be mentioned in vain. Then, after testing positive for marijuana, Richardson allegedly went on a cinematic joyride, going 143 mph, with a gun in the front, a child in the back, and the smell of weed wafting from his car.
Saddled with the twin burdens of a foul history and a lost locker room, the Jets, no matter the regime, can't seem to escape their karma. Usually, it's a sportswriter's job to offer a solution. But this one has none.
Since I spend so much time banging on the Jets, folks assume I abhor them. Actually, the reverse is true. While I bleed black & gold, I've always had a soft spot for the Gang Green. I rooted for the New York Sack Exchange. I rooted for Richard Todd, Ken O'Brien, and Chad Pennington. I watched the Mud Bowl, Curtis Martin's fumble in Denver, and their two trips to the AFC title game under Rex Ryan. There's a certain, underdog charm to the Jets. And no fan base deserves a moment in the sun more than Jets devotees.
And the truth is they assembled a decent squad this season. With new personnel, a new coach, and a new attitude, we saw a new altitude. But some people, some teams, can't shake their past, which haunts the Jets' present.
Now we've got Ryan Fitzpatrick, on his sixth team, the only player in NFL history to start for five different teams and not leave any of them with a winning record. He's competent, but the Jets were looking for more.
Buried under his epic beard, the Harvard grad spoke in the predicted platitudes about making the most of this opportunity, as if this would somehow end differently from the other stops on his vagabond career arc.
Sucker punch. It morphs into a metaphor. Who is the sucker? The man who threw the punch, who lost his starting job for two months, or the fans who actually believe the Jets were turning a corner?
A police captain in Florham Park said that if a crime is to be charged, the victim has to press charges. If only Geno Smith were the only victim here.
Follow Jason on Twitter at @JasonKeidel
