Back in February, when the Giants beat the Patriots to win Super Bowl 42, I was thrilled, as was any human being with a sense of good and evil. I laid in bed that night and closed my eyes with a smile on my face. I was sleeping peacefully. Then, in the middle of the night, I sat up in a cold sweat. The horrible thought struck me. After seeing something this good, I just knew I would have to endure some misery. And this was miserable a sports day as I have had in a long time.
First, nothing has changed in football. The Jets still stick the knife in my heart. They can't beat New England without the overrated Tom Brady, losing 19-10.
So many disgusting moments. Lamont Jordan torching us for 66 yards on the ground. Jay Feely misses a 31-yard field goal; I think the ball landed behind him, that kick was so off-target. The Jets were penalized six times for 60 yards -- compared with the Patriots' two penalties for 10 yards. Two of them wiped out 30-plus yard gains. Also Calvin Pace with a lovely roughing the passer penalty late in the fourth that allowed the Patsies to kick a field goal to put it out of reach.
But this was all I needed to see. The offense still stinks and the coaches are to blame. Second quarter, Jets trailing 6-0. Aided by Brett Favre's 54-yard pass to Laveranues Coles, the Jets drove to the Patriots' 3 and had first-and-goal. There are so many options with Favre. Play action. Fade routes. A bullet pass on a route across the back of the end zone. Maybe run the ball once with Jones, who is running so much harder and showing so much more quickness than a year ago. These three plays followed: Thomas Jones to the right for 1 yard; Jones up the middle for 1; Jones to the left for minus-2. Every play there had three tight ends, no receivers. They may as well have said out loud we're going to run up the middle three times. No imagination, no creativity, no success, plenty of pain, misery, and heartache. Brian Schottenheimer, as far as playcalling goes, you S-U-C-K. And also to the genius head coach. Is Favre allowed to throw the freakin' football down the field?
Nothing has changed for the Jets. I know it is Week 2. But this was a prime opportunity to make a statement to football and the Satan of sports, the New Englad Patriots. The only statement made? This franchise does not have a damn clue how to win.
And then we get to the Metropolitans. The New Mets, mind you! I've been hearing for weeks now about how this is a new team. Adam, things are different. You gotta believe. I hear it from WFAN. From the newspaper. From ESPN. From friends. From my father. New manager, new attitude. Well, not a new result. After splitting a Saturday doubleheader they should have swept, the Mets lead Atlanta 4-2 going to the ninth. Luis Ayala comes in. Three batters, eleven pitches later, Greg Norton hits a three-run homer. They add two more and we lose 7-4. Didn't want Billy Wagner back, Met fans? How about now? The Mets' bullpen has blown 26 save opportunities this season. This race should have been over last week. Get K-Rod in here. Also, Damion Easley is out, his quad is acting up. Meaning we get to see more of Luis Castillo, who cannot get his $42 million dollar wallet and creaky knees out of New York fast enough. Then again, unfortunately, he can't run.
And I also must acknowledge the pusses in Milwaukee for laying down and getting wasted in four straight games by Philadelphia. The lead is down to two games. Out of seven games since Friday, only one went the right way. And even better, it was rookie hazing day. So right after this disgusting loss, the team gets a chuckle watching four Met rookies dressed like Michael Phelps in Speedos and swimming caps and waving tiny American flags. That gives me a shitload of confidence, knowing that the team is laughing after pissing this game away to a crappy team. Collapse II is in full effect.
And that fat bastard Carlos Zambrano no-hits the previously streaking Houston Astros, nearly tossing a perfect game. And the Bubble fans' love-in continues. They're going to win the World Series and that will only make them more arrogant, more obnoxious, and more rude. I may have to move to Canada. Couldn't get to church either this morning. More rain. This was as bad a Sunday as I could imagine.
Benigno, give me a beauty tomorrow. I need it.
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