The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow

MLB, New York Mets, , , , One comment

I’ve been a Mets fan since I was seven.  I’ve seen a lot in my not-so-short yet not-quite-as-long as others.  I’ve seen the Mets win a World Series in front of my own eyes, but I also saw Mike Scioscia sucked the life out of a team and a fanbase on a cold October night in 1988.  I’ve seen two celebrations for an NL East at home, but I also saw Carlos Beltran take strike three.  I was at “Closing Day” at Shea Stadium, but I’ve been to many many games at CitiField, where we’ve yet to create our fond memories.

I was in diapers when Tom Seaver was traded, but rumor has it I was snoozing in my crib while my dad cried watching the evening news that night.  I was in first grade when the Mets were on WOR and some guy named Keith was playing for them, and my dad had baseball on more often than he had before.

I saw Dwight Gooden fall to his demons many many times.  I saw Lenny Dykstra and Roger McDowell traded for Juan Samuel.  Darryl Strawberry, nicknamed the “Black Ted Williams” when he was being scouted, walked away from the Mets to go home to L.A.  Generation K never lived up to our expectations, and Bobby Jones started out as overrated but became underrated as he left the team. The great dream of Scott Kazmir was dashed away when the Mets decided to become a “win-now” team with missing puzzle piece Victor Zambrano.

So is life, as Harry Belafonte once sang on The Muppet Show, for a Mets fan.

In the offseason leading to the 2008 season, I wrote a piece at my inaugural Mets blog My Summer Family when Johan Santana was traded to the Mets.  Its Always Darkest Before Dawn, I called it, because it was right after 2007 and the collapse and everything sucked.  And I just remembered that it’s never easy being a Mets fan.  And look…Johan Santana hasn’t quite lived up to our expectations either.  Then again, we should not be surprised.

The sun will come out tomorrow.  Little Orphan Annie sang this about better days to come.  I think we can gain a lot from this message for a lot of aspects of life.  If you’re still breathing, you have a bad day, you get dumped, whatever, chances are the days will go on and you’ll overcome it.

And we’ll overcome our loss of Jose Reyes.  It won’t be easy, and it won’t be fun, but it will happen because…it will happen.  It just has to.  When Beltran’s caught looking ended an improbable run in 2006, and then started a chain of events for failure with the team, we’re still here.  We’re still breathing.  We’re still rooting and believing just like we normally do.

Is it horrible to lose Reyes?  I won’t lie to you: it is.  But not for the reasons you think.  To be blunt, this is a business.  Free agents come and go and Reyes was no exception.  It happens. We root for the laundry and not the player (just the players who wear the laundry).  Sadly, this team was not winning with Reyes…they can keep not winning without him.

That can be simplistic I know.  Especially for a man who was the Mets’ first batting champion and is beloved by fans all over.  At the end of the day, Jose Reyes will be a Miami Marlin…and we’ll have to get over it.

The sun came out this morning, and will continue to rise in the east and set in the west every day after.  So fare thee well, Jose.  We’ll miss you, it will be hard to get over you, but we’ll do it eventually.

To Hilda: With Love, CC

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I liked Chris Capuano.  The Mets offered him a one-year contract last year worth $1.5 million.  Keep in mind that he had not pitched for a year prior due to injury.  Now that he’s proven himself to stay healthy and can be an innings-eater, the Mets no longer want anything to do with him.

I can see that side to the argument.  But clearly, Sandy Alderson did not consult with ME or any of the Lady Mets who like to “look” at their team.  And by “look” I mean “ass.”

Brian Schneider — now of the hated Philadelphia Phillies — had an ass like two scoops of butter pecan ice cream.  Capuano wasn’t that nice…but he had nice calves and a nice smile and was easily the cutest Met on the team this year.  Sigh.

What’s more: I became Twitter buddies with someone I consider my “West Coast Baseball Twin,” Hilda Chester. We have the same type of baseball personality: we live for the sport in the summer time, but can certainly enjoy the fringe benefits that come along with it…meaning: good looking menz in uniform.  She pinged me earlier in the season and said something to the effect of Chris Capuano being a cutie and that he had nice calves.

Needless to say, whenever he pitched, she’d watch the pitches with me, although she herself bleeds Dodger blue.

Some of the pics I am posting here today of Capuano were taken with Hilda in mind.  He was doing some practice pitches at one of the last home games of the season, and my husband was able to get some good shots of him in the bullpen.  (What can I say, he’s an enabler) There’s even a pic of him smiling!

 

Yesterday, Hilda’s team got the best looking pitcher in baseball signed to a two-year deal.  Capuano is going to be gracing his presence in a Dodger uniform next year.  So Hilda, I give you my pitcher and the last great pictures we took of him as a Met at CitiField.  Enjoy looking at him, as many of the female fans did this year.

But I actually will miss his consistency on the mound.

A Series Teaser

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I’ve been pretty quiet about the Mets this offseason.  Mostly because they, themselves, have been quiet.  As my friend Richie S over at Random Mets Thoughts says, wake us when there’s news.

The last thing I want to do though, is become complacent in my Mets writing.  I mean, when something does happen, it’s easy to be reactionary.  Which I realize has been part of my problem in the last few years: too reactionary, not enough creativity.  Even when I’m reactionary though, I can be creative.  Yet I started A Gal For All Seasons to be proactive and come up with original content.  It can be stifling at times, but it forces me to think out of the box.  Sometimes, though, forcing yourself to do something can be counterproductive.  But I keep plotzing on.

In the middle of the 2011 season, over at sister site Kiners Korner, I did a series on the Most Notorious Mets.  It was fun and lively and generated a lot of dialogue.  Then someone approached me about writing a book.  Granted, it wasn’t anyone in the publishing industry, but when I was tapped to add a piece about our friend Dana Brand in his memorial book last summer, I knew I could probably do it if I had a better focus.

So I’m using this platform as a vehicle to help me refine my craft.  It may not be the Great American Novel I swore to my English professors that I would write someday…but it could be a fun lively story that is appreciated by the Mets community.  Which is all I really need is to write something to connect with the community.

Despite whatever negative, positive, or somewhere in between there will be in Mets news this offseason, I will try to keep things light and original and try to post a new synopsis weekly about my ideas.  Stay tuned!

**Gratuitous Eye Candy Photo For The Ladies**

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Ladies (and gentlemen, since I know there are many men who follow this site)…I introduce to you…the Classics FOUR!!! (Also known as Ryan Callahan, Dan Girardi, Henrik Lundqvist and Brandon Dubinsky)

The Winter Classics Four (photo credit to MSG Sports)

The ladies now have my permission to swoon (also, the men might too, but over the sweet jerseys).  Oh, and this picture was taken at the unveiling of the jersey ceremony at Wollman Rink at Central Park on Monday.  Oh, did I mention I ran right past that rink doing a three-miler yesterday and had no idea?  Yeah, some fan *I* am.  /sarcasm

Now, I have a bit of a dilemma here.  Actually, it’s more of a command.

I NEED TO GO TO THE WINTER CLASSIC.  It’s not a want.  It’s a necessity.  I need to be there.

Now, my husband chides me, because it’s not an exhibition, it’s just a “regular game.”  But outdoors.  In the cold.  In Philadelphia.  Nearby.  It’s a special event.  And my team is playing in it.

I NEED TO BE THERE.

So I am whoring myself out to whomever would like to offer their ticket to me.  Now, I will pay for it.  Problem is, I won’t pay $900 to sit in the 400 level for one goddamn seat.  See, I’ll try to appeal to your sense and sensibility by saying…I am funemployed.  Well, I may not be by then.  But I am right now.  I know tons of people going.  But they are all committed to going with someone else.  Bastards.

So I will need a nice person who would like to offer their ticket at face value (charge me 10% over if you want to *make* money off it), and I’ll be responsible for buying beer.  Oh, and if you’re driving and don’t wish to drink, I’ll buy food…or your parking fees.  Whatever.  I want to go.  Scratch that.  I NEED TO GO.

So I can see these fine-ass men skating around in the cold and my nipples will be hard for reasons other than the cold.

Erm, was that too much?

I need to be there.  Period.  Someone help me make it happen.  Kthxbye.

Funny About Blue

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For a sports nut who likes to write about being one, I haven’t had much to say about the Rangers lately.  I’ve been doing most of my writing about the Jets and football, which to me is my weakness because I haven’t found my true “football voice” yet (unless you can count angry neurotic and pissed-off Jets fan…which yes, then I have it down pat).  The Mets have been quiet this offseason, therefore, I’m very pleased that I don’t have to focus 100% of my efforts on writing about them.

But the Rangers.  It’s a funny thing, my story with the Broadway Blues.  I guess they’re not pissing me off yet this year.  I guess that’s a good thing too.  But I mean, give ’em time, they’re the Rangers for crying out loud.

I’ve often said that baseball is not for the feint of heart.  It takes an incredible commitment to be a fan, and not a short attention span.  Football is for those who like to devote themselves to sports once a week.  It’s for commitment-phobes, really, ADD ridden (with shades of hyperactivity), and they’re pretty much in and out by winter time.  Then there’s hockey, which falls somewhere in between. It’s an 82-game schedule,  there aren’t games seven days a week for your team.  And you’re only forced to watch multiple games if you choose.

I’ve been following the Rangers since I was 13 years old, but our relationship is a little weird right now.  My next game is December 8th, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility that I attend more games.  Since MSG was still under construction earlier (and still is, I think it’s scheduled to be “done” sometime in December), the Rangers haven’t had a tremendous amount of home games.  At least, none that I’ve been invited to which is a rarity.  But then, I have a feeling come the winter time, it will pick up.

I don’t necessarily like watching hockey on TV, but I made a conscious effort to try to do it more often.  I suppose it’s easier that my husband is not a big hockey fan.  When the Mets are playing, as an example, we have to rush home or be near a radio or find out where we can watch the game if we are not close to home.  Not to mention, we’re season ticket holders, go on road trips and manage to see the Mets all the time.  So I do become a bit complacent watching or lack thereof during the hockey season.  My husband doesn’t rush me home or make me watch or listen to it.  Couple that with my not-liking-to-watch-hockey-on-TV thing, and I am fine following reactions on Twitter or following on my GameCast.

I’ve watched the last two games.  What I think is funny is at the beginning of the season, I was all concerned that even with the big shit signing of Brad Richards, that they would not get their act together.  Even better, they have and seem to be clicking.  When they went on a 5-2 tear in their last seven games, I wasn’t actually all that concerned with their losses.  I know, it was only two…but I’m a Ranger fan.  We flip out about everything.  But I found myself enjoying the games on television too.  Funny, huh.   I remember when I was in grade school and high school, my mother would be working late, and me, the quintessential “latchkey” kid, would sit and watch my sports on TV (I lived in the suburbs…there was no “walking around” unless someone’s mom came to pick me up to go to the mall).

Though I’ve seen this team win a championship in my lifetime, I always have to sit and wonder…is this our year?  At current, if the playoffs were to be decided today, they’d be scraping for a position, but they’d be in it.  Tonight, the Rangers face the number one team in the conference, the Penguins and the hates Cindy Crosby, erm, SIDNEY.

And the funny thing is when I watch them these days, I don’t think they can lose.  I don’t know if that’s a fan’s hopeful optimism or just that I might see a different team this year.  Sure, I still see the dancing skating Smurfs on ice, but I see less of a dependence on Henrik Lundqvist, which is never the worst thing in the world, but it’s good that every win is not just on him every night.

They seem to be coming together, much like the rug in The Big Lebowski, sans pee stains of course.

Build It Up (Tear It Down)

New York Jets, NFL, , , , , One comment

There’s that old saying that you build things up to tear them down.  Kind of like celebrities.  Entertainment media spends a lot of time bringing people up to a certain standard, and when they can’t live up to it, people seem to relish in the fall.  It’s almost, like, humanizing I suppose.  Look at Kim Kardashian and her 90-day marriage or however long it was and the backlash from having a ginormous glitzy wedding televised (though in my opinion, she had it coming).

The same could be said about sports and sports figures.  Remember at the beginning of the football season, the Buffalo Bills were the toast of the town, man.  They won their first three games, and prior to their bye week in Week Seven, were 4-2.  Their losses were even razor thin, and could have easily been won.  Pretty soon, they were 5-5 along with the Jets.  Now they’re writing about how this could be their worst “collapse” ever (As a Mets fan, I know a thing or two about collapses).

The Jets, however, were the boners.  The Bills were overplaying to everyone’s expectations, which is always a good thing.  The Jets behind Rex Ryan and Mark Sanchez along with Darrelle Revis et al had made it all the way to the Conference Championship game in two seasons…they hadn’t “earned” the right to successfully gloat.  Which I mean, come on, Rex is a blowhard sometimes but he’s funny and always owns up to his mistakes.  If the shit was on the other foot, i.e. I was not a Jets fan, it may piss me off too.  The Jets are boners, apparently, to the masses.  Possibly because of my eclectic sports affiliations and interactions, I find a lot of haters.  Haters don’t piss me off…my philosophy behind them is that you’re doing something right if people dislike you to the point of bashing.

Yet, a few weeks ago, the Bills were the toast of the league, and now the Jets beat them (it was ugly Sunday, that’s for sure) and it’s all, “Well, it’s not that big of a win…it was the Bills.”  Well, fuck that bullshit.  I’m sick of the double-standard.  If the Bills had held on to a lead, I’m sure it would have been about how the Jets suck and they’re horrible and Rex Ryan likes his wife’s feet and blah blah blah.

I was supposed to attend today’s shit show live.  I had a shit show of my own that needed attending to when I was at home and didn’t think it to be a good idea to go a game.  I was sad, I was mad…nothing I hate more than wasting those tickets.  So I just sat home with my green tea, my yogurt and upped my probiotic intake.  And I didn’t drink though for most Jets games, it should be mandatory that I’m stinking fucking drunk.  Period.  End of story.

I know the Jets are flawed.  If ANYONE knows that it’s me.  But back to the haters thing, why not give credit where it’s due.  The Jets and Bills are battling for a playoff spot — if they’re LUCKY — and it’s the JETS who won and who are getting the shit of the end stick regardless.

And what’s worse?  I love taking to Twitter to bitch about them. Yet I was called out for saying “Just forfeit” in jest to someone I follow…a saying, by the way, I’ve been saying for 14 years.  People who aren’t even Jets fans RELISHING in each misplay, misfire, miscue.  Look, I know they half bring it on themselves.  But it’s like they’re the Rodney Dangerfield of football: they get no respect.  Stevie Williams mimes shooting himself in the leg scoring a touchdown, and people defend it.  Plax got the last laugh there, so it’s all good as far as I’m concerned.  Tweeters calling a Jets loss before they even finish.  Do I need to remind them that a few years ago they were all but out and “backed in” only to go almost all the way…and that was a year they weren’t expected to do much!

It reminds me of when the Yankees are in the playoffs.  ALL the haters come out of the woodwork.  Now, I’m not a Yankees fan, but I can respect them and their fans (especially since I’m friendly with many of them).  On the flip side though I understand where the hate for the Highlanders come from.  They’ve at least earned the right to haters, if that makes sense.

So the Jets are a quirky team with a quirky head coach who likes to talk a lot and their QB is a pretty boy with some neurosis (hey, he’s a QB for a NY team that I like…I take the blame for that).  Sit down and shut the fuck up.  I’d like just for once to hear about how it’s the BILLS who dropped the proverbial ball (twice, mind you, against the Jets) and not how the Jets won the game because the Bills decided to lose it.  Fuck that noise.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to sit on the toilet again.

Kinky Kelly and The Sexy Stud

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You fucked up! You trusted us!

Such is life for a Jets fan.  After the horrific loss to Denver on Thursday, I was basically in the acceptance part of my grief process.  I was detailing how I would be able to start my detox earlier this year, not to be interrupted by going to bars or drinking and eating poorly during football playoff games. Till then…I have two games that I am attending live.  I’d hate to think there is nothing to play for.  Then again, in previous years, many things have fallen into place, with the Jets quote-unquote backing into the playoffs, or perhaps the schedule will bear out.  Oh, and there will no margin for error.  Something, at which, the Jets have been acutely inept at this season, that whole low-margin-of-error thing.

My advice to you is to start drinking heavily

“My advice to you is to start drinking heavily,” said my friend, whom I refer to as WOOOOOOO, over on Twitter the other day. This was mostly in response to me bitching there about the games I am attending live in the future, money spent, hopes dashed, disappointments met, and about cleansing myself of this sports hex I have put on myself.

In my life, there have been a few constants.  One is my sports fandom and its affiliations: Mets.  Jets.  Rangers.  The other are my love for John Landis films.  Blues Brothers.  Trading Places.  Coming to America.  Animal House.  Besides sports, perhaps music and film draws people together in the same way. Sometimes, they collide and I can quote movies and enjoy sports at the same time.

When I was on the West Coast last week watching the Jets play the Patriots, I had to speak my tweets because my phone was charging.  Meanwhile, the other three folks I was watching the game had no vested interest in the game conclusion (though they seemed to want to the Jets to win, since I was rooting for that conclusion).  So they started talking about movies, like Kevin Smith films.  Clerks.  Jay and Silent Bob.  Mallrats.  Understanding these movies is cult-like.  We throw around quotes like it’s Shakespeare.

When the conversation turned to Clerks II, I started going nuts.  I HATED that movie, and thought it was better off not made.  My husband and our friends disagreed. They loved it, especially the part about “ass-to-mouth.”

I guess you have to watch the movie to understand the context.

Meanwhile, when I say, “Jets 2011: Ass to Mouth,” you can get the drift.  It’s roots are in a Kevin Smith movie, but the ramifications are far spread.

Think about it.  The context of it in the movie was just for gross-out humor.  Not that I’m not up for that.  But this is what the Jets have been doing all season.  This highly unsanitary and unorthodox of way of conducting themselves, when it should be easy.  YOU NEVER GO ASS TO MOUTH.  AND YOU DON’T DO STUPID SHIT AGAINST TEAMS LIKE THE BRONCOS.

See, I almost wished they lost that game I went to against the Dolphins.  Maybe they would have snapped out of it.  Then again, they are doing all the wrong things.  They’re entitled to lose games, but they games they lose to are even messed up.  Like losing to AFC teams that could potentially be a “tie-breaker” when it comes to playoff time (though, I just have to wonder if this is just not the year).  Special teams being atrocious.  Brian Schottenheimer convinced that as offensive coordinator his job is to fit the QB to the offense, not the other way around (as @metsjetsnets88 and @robzloto discussed on Twitter, this isn’t anything new…he’s done this was THREE QBs). I don’t think Schotty is the only problem (like, where is the backlash against Westhoff, as an example), but it’s clear that it’s PART of the problem.   The problem being consistency.

And yet at the end of the day, the people taking it up the ass with the mouths of the media are Mark Sanchez, the “pretty-boy quarterback,” and Rex Ryan, the only man documented to have a foot fetish, because they are visible.  Because they are the quarterback and the head coach.  Hey, I’m not saying Sanchez is completely blameless.  It seems like he almost has to trust himself to get the job done because of the way things are going.  It’s not good.

Like when I watched the Mets faltering in 2007, I said losing games to the likes of the Washington Nationals in August (that they could have easily won) leaves no margin of error. Good teams find a way to beat the teams they are supposed to beat.  The Jets of 2011 are making me feel the same way.  Ass-to-mouth might have been funny in the context when my friends and I were discussing quotes from Clerks II.  When talking about the Jets 2011 play, it’s certainly one that’s as unsanitary and undesirable in the short- and long-term.

Mission: Accomplished

MLB, New York Mets, , , One comment

See this?  That picture was taken in July, in celebration of our friend and brother in the Mets community, Dana Brand.  Dana passed away earlier this year.  He was a real hero and champion to the Mets community, especially the Meterati, who fancied themselves as sort of writers with feeling and emotion, and tying in our love for the Mets with our daily zest for life.

Mets fans are a quirky bunch, and hey, it takes one to know one.  Or several.  Back in 2007, I was invited to a reading by Dana Brand for his then newly-released Mets Fan book.  The Mets literati was a club I desperately wanted to pledge.  When I walked in that day, Dana looked at me, recognized me right away, and motioned for me to join in on the fun.  I’ll never forget that.  If you want a real-life example, if you ever saw the movie Independence Day, when Judd Hirsch’s character is forming the prayer circle, and tells everyone to join hands, THAT was Dana Brand.

 

If you noticed in the first photo I posted, I was speaking in front of a sign that said, “Bring Back Banner Day.”  Perhaps it was done a little tongue in cheek, perhaps it was a little wistful.  Yet, the idea of banner day is very Metsian in its roots, and perhaps defines the very essence of being a Mets fan.

I attended my first Banner Day in 1986, which used to be in between a scheduled doubleheader (try getting that done anymore).  At the time, I didn’t understand the history and roots behind it, but it does remain one of my fondest memories.  After all, how could I forget the one sign that has been a Cooper family punchline ever since: “Shea’s Bathrooms Are Worse Than Chernobyl.”

Things are different now.  Mets fans can be snarky and wise-asses, but we’re a little more educated now and attuned to the inner-workings of the team.  I didn’t think Banner Day would fly again.  Sure, I am a fan who certainly wanted it to return.  For a stadium that has a strict banner and sign policy (and CitiField is hardly the ONLY place that does this), I didn’t think Banner Day would ever be again.

Till the 50th anniversary festivities were announced and Banner Day IS returning for 2012!!!

Can I get a WOOOOO?? WOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Of course, no good deed can go without wondering what it’s ulterior motives are, perhaps Bitter Bill asked with are Mets pulling the sheets over our eyes?  What, covering a crap cake, as I like to call things nowadays?  This, I feel, is a step towards making us fans happy.  We wanted something like this for years.  Wanna hear my theory on questions like that?  Mets fans are afraid to allow themselves to be happy about anything.  I’m not afraid.  I’m really thinking about what kind of Banner Day I want to make.  The 50th anniversary is bringing the fun back.

Fun is something that has been missing for quite some time, especially since CitiField opened up.  When the Mets were the Loveable Losers in the ’60s, Banner Day was something for everyone to enjoy and to forget how bad the team was, it was for the fans and BY the fans.  If you think about it, blogs and podcasts and videos are done as a way of expressing our love and even our frustrations with the team, and how they impact our lives.  I guess that it’s like with any relationship, you give, you take, you love, you hate.

I said when I heard of Dana Brand’s passing this year, that I was sure he would be one of the first people some of us would think of when the Mets won a championship.  His name was the first person who popped into my head for this announcement about Banner Day, that he would have loved to see it.  Along with many of us who fought the good fight to get Banner Day back where it belonged: in CitiField, with the Mets, once again.

Stand By Your Man

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“So…who wants to watch Blues Brothers?” I said in the fourth quarter last Sunday, when it just seemed painfully obvious that this was clearly not the Jets day.  Nor was it their night. (Operative word there was “painfully”).

A few things to go on that background.  First, I was on the West Coast, with a Seahawks fan (my husband), a Giants fan (Solly) and a 49ers fan (Mrs. Senor Solly).  I was still on East Coast time, since I was basically there for what amounted to a long weekend.  I was in bed most nights around 10 pm PST.  Yeah, I’m lame. But also since the game was on East Coast time, we were done around 8 pm watching the game.

Oh and I had done a Petco Park tour in San Diego earlier in the day, and while walking out of the stadium, I ran into two Jets fans, presumably on their way to watch football somewhere.

Jets fans meet in downtown San Diego

They admitted they were both Yankee fans, but I let them get away with it…Nobody is truly perfect after all.

My phone had died out at one point.  So I made a conscious decision to not live-tweet during the game.  So I did the second-best thing: I talked to the TV as if, you know, the team could hear me (they can, can’t they?), and said some pretty Coop-tastic things.  Such as “Fuck you and your mothers.”  “Kiss my ass.”  You can see where I can pull some of my most primal thoughts on Twitter.  My thoughts were being tweeted anyway, even though I wasn’t doing it myself (Be sure to follow @Fsolomon75 for more info on that).  Love modern technologies. And the power of outing your friends on Twitter.

To say I was giddy with anticipation for the week’s game would be an understatement.  I was ready for payback, especially when it comes to the New England Patriots, or as I like to call them, the “HATEtriots.”  The first game really left a bad taste in my mouth, but I figured this team has faced Tom Brady and his crew a gajillion times, we can take ’em.

Anyway, I make no bones about whom I love on the Jets this year.  And the constants of course.  Nick Mangold, Darrelle Revis, Plaxico Burress, Mark Sanchez are my big four this year.  The obvious choices.  I don’t care if Burress shoost himself in the foot, uh, literally.  If he wants to audition for the Darwin Awards on his time, far be it for me to stop him.

Moving right along, people get on Mark Sanchez for not being an “elite quarterback.”  Well, let’s take a step back and think about what an elite QB is.  Look at the Colts, as an example.  Their “elite” QB, Peyton Manning (the human Milwaukee Brewer Sausage Race Sausage) has been injured this season…guess what?  His team is probably going to get the first-round draft pick this year.  Right?  Then there’s Tom Brady, the *barf* “elite” QB.  Look I can give credit where it is due, but I don’t like Brady because he’s the enemy.  But yet when he was hurt a few years ago, the Patriots were hardly the vaunted threat they usually are, and didn’t make the playoffs.

So to say “Mark Sanchez isn’t an elite quarterback” is a very loaded accusation.  For one, the Jets are seriously not a one-man team, like say the Colts are constructed to be or were.  Now, I don’t pay close attention to Colts games, just basically follow them on game trackers or whatever, so if there’s something else going on there feel free to clue me in.  The Jets are constructed to have a heavy D (RIP…wait, wrong D), so when that fails, Sanchez’s errors are more glaring.

That’s not to say, on the other side of the coin, Sanchez’s idiotic move (what Rex Ryan coined as being one of the dumbest moves in the history of football) of calling a timeout too soon during the first half wasn’t to blame.  Yet, the defense can’t keep giving opportunities to a seasoned team like the Patriots.

I feel like Sanchez doesn’t make “rookie mistakes” per se, but I feel like his own hype can get in the way at times.  Meaning, I could tell he was getting rattled during the game.  That might seem like rookie nerves, but who knows what happened in the locker room during the half…Ryan could have put his fist down his throat, and made his asshole into a pinky ring.  I could see that rattling someone.  Yet, they are still professionals and should know better.  So play better, you tools.

Lastly, at the root of it, is a team effort.  I saw just overall the team making mistakes that could be construed as “rookie,” but since Sanchez is the “face” for better or worse (I mean, it can’t get better…he’s seriously cute), but this was a team loss.

Is it the end of the world?  No.  Yes, as a fan I would prefer beating the Patriots on any day of the week, let alone on a football Sunday.  I still have faith, as blind as it may be.  I believe in my heart of hearts that the Jets are going to come up huge this season.  Just unfortunately, it didn’t happen on a national platform, against the hated Patriots.  The schedule bears out for the Jets for the rest of the season…so just man up and play better.

After all, they’re just a team…

Stand by your men

And if you love them…Oh be proud of them…’Cause after all, they’re just your men…

Stand by your green men…

Giving Thanks

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This might have been a phone conversation I had with my dad the other night.

Me: “So I’ll be seeing my friends Fred and Jenn this weekend.”

Dad: “Fred Solomon??? Man, I feel like I know that guy.”

Funny, because “Solly,” as we like to call him, has never met my dad (neither has his wife, Jenn).  Yet, because of this wonderful thing called social media and Facebook, it’s introduced me to a universe of friends that I probably would not have known otherwise.

And at the root of it?  It’s our shared fandom of certain teams.

Fans at a Jets game (From L to R): Kevin, Coop, Mr. E and Kace

When I was a kid, my dad would take me Mets games at Shea Stadium.  Mr. E, as we call him, has a natural approachable and friendly personality.  Anyone who meets him loves him.  He’s just the right mixture of lovably wacky and heart-of-gold.  This weekend, he turns 60. He’s showed me what it’s like to be a die-hard fan of sports and what it takes to be a friend.

I’ve probably loved him and hated him equally for making me a Mets, Jets and Rangers fan though.

Yet, when we used to go to these games, he’d go with his best friend, affectionately known as “Uncle Gene,” and I’d tag along.  They’d keep me occupied with Cracker Jacks, fountain sodas and ice cream (did I mention how hyper I’d be at these games too?).  They used to sit in a section with these guys Dominic, Rob and Mike.  You’d never know it, but they just met and socialized at the games.  They always seemed like they knew each forever.  But it was sports.  Sports is what drew them together, and what was an initial common bond.

Sadly, they lost touch over the years, but I can’t tell you how many times Dominic, Rob and Mike popped into a conversation with Mr. E or Uncle Gene while we talked about going to Mets games.  I always remembered though that I loved the in-the-trenches humor that Mets fans have, and it kept me around, even in down times because it was always a common thread we have.

My dad also got me going to Rangers hockey games and into the Jets a long time ago.  After the Giants won the Super Bowl in 2008, I said, “It’s bad enough that you made me a Mets and a Rangers fan…but a JETS FAN???”  Pops took me to my first Mets baseball game and Rangers hockey game…but I took him to his first Jets game last year.  So I guess one good turn deserves another.

Mets Fans at AT&T Park (From L to R): Ed, Coop, Senor Solly and Mrs. Senor Solly

So this brings me back to Fred and Jenn, or Senor Solly and Mrs. Senor Solly.  I don’t know if I’d know them outside of sports.  I’d like to think somehow our paths would have crossed but outside of our mutual fandom, sadly I don’t think that would be the case.  So even when my teams are horrible and they suck and they piss me off, I have the relationships and bonds I’ve formed as a result of them.  Yet, because my dad has been “introduced” to them as a result of tools like Facebook or even about me bringing them up in conversation, they are kind of like my versions of Dominic, Rob and Mike.  Though maybe if Facebook existed back in the ’80s, we wouldn’t be wondering “What happened to those guys??” and maybe seeing them at games more regularly.  Last we heard, Dominic got married and was living in Greenwich, Connecticut, and had two kids.  That was back in 1994.  His kids might have graduated college by now.

This is the time of the year we are supposed to give thanks to what we have and friend we have met and for our family, but most of all I am thankful that my dad got me into sports.  I may get mad at him for rooting in exercises in futility sometimes…yet, I also know the thrill of winning, which is why I stick around and it makes the bad times worth it.

But most of all, it got me to meet some lovely people over the years.  If you are not a sports fan, then perhaps this is a bit out of the realm of your comfort zone.  There may be common bonds you form with different groups of people.  For us, we get together, and bitch about our teams, and reminisce about the good ol’ days, and then we find we have more in common than we ever thought.