Seattle Seahawks

It’s Only Weird If It Doesn’t Work

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walkers Do I have any Walking Dead fans in the house?

When someone gets “infected,” they are said to have “turned.”  They “turn” into walkers, the living dead.  They either have been dead by different causes or bitten by a walker themselves in order to turn.
I have turned myself, you know.  I can pinpoint exactly when this has happened.  It’s not a sickness, not a virus, nor is it a disease.

It was a turn for a life altering experience.

It happened in Seattle, Sunday, November 11, 2012.  I talked about it here.

When I travel to follow my teams around to other stadiums, I know there is a 50 / 50 shot they may lose.  This game was no different.  Except something changed in me, and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I was leaving that day, so I thought maybe I was just eager to get home, and therefore, antsy.  But I was changed, and there was definitely a point of no return for me.  I just didn’t know what it was.

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My husband is a creature of habit.  He wakes up at the same time every day, wears essentially the same “uniform” (t-shirt, black shorts, white socks, black sneakers).  He has a strict schedule and adheres to it.  He loves trains, only because they are on a strict time table.  Anything he can set a watch to, he’s all for.

To say he’s superstitious would be a gross understatement.  He won’t eat until the Mets take a lead, he acts much like Robert Deniro’s character in Silver Linings Playbook.  Everything has a place.  A place for everything.

However, his superstitions rival those in the Bud Light “It’s Only Weird If It Doesn’t Work.”  We don’t listen to Paula Cole songs ad nauseum.  But this is what we do on Seahawks game days:

  • watch from home (abysmal record watching games at bars and such)
  • he sits on the couch, I sit on the bed
  • we talk to each other via Twitter
  • he shaves (seriously – it takes a lot for him to do that)
  • we have some sort of alcohol beverage of choice
  • we order from Domino’s

Yes, I know that last part is sacrilegious for a Jersey girl and current city dweller.  However, Ed does not eat pizza.  Ordering “real” pizza is a waste of time for me these days.  And I like their cheesy bread.  His food of choice is pasta in the bread bowl.  Because there are no such things as too many carbs.

The losses outside of the home were enough to give us pause to continue watching games from the couch.  Even so when presented with an opportunity to attend the Super Bowl right across the river with a once in a lifetime chance to see his lifelong team, we didn’t jump at it.

Because it’s only weird if it doesn’t work.

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I was 10 years old when the Mets last won the World Series, in 1986.  Shortly after that, the New York Giants won the Super Bowl.  I remember earlier in 1986, when the Chicago Bears were all over the place, with their Super Bowl Shuffle.  A few months later, the Mets came out with their Lets Go Mets Go! song.  I guess I was used to dominance, but clearly I didn’t know as much about the Mets’ history as I do now, and having come to terms with the fact that the 1980s dominance was a once in a lifetime type of thing.

So when the Giants were all over the place then, I asked my dad (my touchstone for learning about what teams to root for) if he was a Giants fan.  He said no, he was a Jets fan.  So I went along with it because I did what Dad told me to do.

We weren’t the type of family that sat around and watched football on a Sunday afternoon.  In fact, I didn’t go to my first live football game till 2002, and my dad only went to his first Jets game in 2010.  When I asked if he ever went to a game at Shea Stadium, he told me, “No.  At least, I don’t think I have.”

I didn’t speak football.  I spoke baseball and hockey.  To me, those sports were fun, and I understood them.  I didn’t get much out of football, because I didn’t get it.  Baseball and hockey I understood.  Football to me was an ADD sport.  Meaning, it was for short attention spans.

Football is only 16 games of a regular season, less than a handful more in the playoffs.  Commitment phobes can enjoy with minimal risk.  Baseball is 162 games a year, hockey is 82.  Let’s not even go there with potential additions of postseason.  I could weave story lines from those sports.  Football, eh, whatever, not so much.  You didn’t need to pay a ton of attention at schedules.  You had one day a week to devote, maybe two if you followed rivals playing on Monday.  (And now, Thursdays too).

I think it was in 2008 though that I started to rebel.  The Giants had won their third championship in my lifetime.  I couldn’t care less about the Giants, though I have lots of friends who were fans.  I just felt nothing towards the team, as much as I hated the Patriots.  I could never understand how a person could claim to be a “Jets and Giants fan.”  To me, it was the ultimate cop out.  We all know the Jets are horribly mismanaged and put the fun in dysfunctional.  Rooting for the Giants as well as the Jets was a way to have your cake and eat it too (yes, I get it – what’s the fucking point of cake if you can’t eat it??  But you get the idea).  The Jets won’t ever win, but the Giants have won a bunch of championships in my lifetime.  I could only be happy that the Patriots lost the last two Super Bowl wins for the G-men.  But I could not in good conscience root for them, ever. Plus their fans cannot stand Jets fans. The reverse relationship reminds me of the people who are Mets fans but “root for the Yankees” too. There’s a lot of angst in that relationship. I’ve found it’s tenfold with Giants fans who actively dislike Jets fans.

Getting back to the rebelling part.  I started to get mad about the penance I’ve paid as a sports fan.  While I know many fans of the teams I root for cannot boast of remembering a championship year, I have those memories, even vivid and fond memories.  So in 2008, my dad and I went to see Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood.  It was a few days after the Giants beat the Patriots.

“Dad, it’s bad enough you made me a Mets and a Rangers fan.  But a Jets fan?????”

The only team I technically rebelled against was the Knicks.  I am not a huge basketball fan, but I did like John Stockton and coined myself a Utah Jazz fan.  Remember, in the ’90s, everyone and their cousin was a Chicago Bulls fan.  They were a one man team.  The Jazz seemed to be the only team that could have the potential to beat them.

It didn’t happen.  Yet, when I met Ed, I found out that he too became a Utah Jazz fan because of the Stockton and Karl Malone.  He still follows them; after Stockton retired, I lost interest.

I went to a live Knicks game in 2007.  I was so bored, I thought I was watching paint dry.

Basketball wasn’t my sport, after all.

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Don’t mind this stream of consciousness.  This is new territory for me.   Being a Mets fan, I was raised with the notion that you stick with your team.  The day I turn coat the Mets is the day you can officially check me into Bellevue for psychiatric observation.

I know personally several people who turncoated the Rangers by making them wait too long for a championship by becoming a Devils fan. To me, there’s nothing dirtier.  Would you believe I know someone who had broken his arm in a fight at the old Garden, defending the Rangers honor, only to become a Devils fan a decade later?

I gave up on hockey, once, but you’d never see me do that.  Give up on the Rangers.  They drive me crazy.  My teams do, at some base level.  They wouldn’t be my teams if they didn’t.

But that day in 2012, in Seattle, I had a life altering experience.  I was a visiting fan.  But I turned that day.  I turned into a 12th Man.  And it was the last thing I expected to ever happen to me.

mark_hey_markAnd that was the play that made it happen.

I was born to be a Mets fan, and I was made to be a Rangers fan.

And I never thought I’d leave a team.

It was more than just the win (and contrary to popular belief, the Seahawks started to turn that day – they were 5-4 prior to that game.  The Jets at least helped propel them to the playoffs that year).  It was the vibe.  It was fucking Seattle.  I can’t even pinpoint what it was about the city.  Perhaps it was the picturesque views.  I can’t pinpoint that we had a great time at any one place.  It was the Hawks nest, the 12th man that pushed me over the edge.

If you’ve never experienced the 12th Man, well, you just have to be there. It’s not just the Seahawks that make that city great, sports-wise.  The city has managed to put Major League Soccer on the map with their crazy Sounders fan base.

When I told people I had gone to CenturyLink amongst diehard football fans, it gave me automatic street cred.  What was more was that I found I wanted to be a part of it.

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So I went to the source, a 12th Man who might understand my plight.  Shortly after the Super Bowl last year, I had asked my husband how he felt about me becoming a 12th Man.  He’d feel less alone, I said.  Plus I really loved Seattle.  I wanted to root for a team there.

His answer was short, but sweet: No.

His reasoning was simple: my dad would be too mad at me if I jumped ship.  He said I could be happy for him if the Seahawks did well.  But I, myself, said I could never root for two teams.

This was different, I said.  I wasn’t meant to be a Jets fan.  Trust me, no one struggled with changing teams more than I did.

Then he went there.  Actually, he more alluded to the fact that I didn’t have great luck with my teams.

Waaaaaait a goddamn minute here.

This was coming from a guy who didn’t have more than me, sportswise.  We didn’t root for world beaters or dynasties. Shit, at least I had a good season with my hockey team.  Twenty years ago, but still.

So I proved to him that I could actively root for his team.  But something else happened.  I became a football fan.  I finally got it.  I finally understood it.  And I bought into the silly superstition that we had to watch the games at home. And order Domino’s.

I also found out I looked really cute in Seahawks colors.

DSCN8891  DSCN8900

Then they made it to the big game.  Then they won a championship.

Seahawks cupcakes

He offered me a Seahawks cupcake, and said, “I’d like to invite you to be a 12th man.”

I guess I paid my dues.  It was worth it.

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Those who know me know that outside of New York City, I’d live in San Francisco.  But after visiting Seattle, all I could talk about was Seattle this, Seattle that.  Can’t wait to go back to Seattle.  Et cetera, et cetera.

spaceneedle

I talk about San Francisco less and less.  I talk about Seattle more and more.

What’s more is that I will probably never see another city like Seattle in support of their sports teams.  I don’t see anything like it here when we have a team pulling for a championship.  Sure, we have our fans.  But really, there is a disconnect with so many people and so many teams.  I have a friend who moved out to Seattle, was a die hard New York everything, and got caught up in the 12.

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DSCN8879One theme you’ll hear me talk about is finding a place to belong.  Sure, we’re born to stand out, but all we want to do is find people like us.  To let us know that it is okay…to be different.  But like-minded.

I found that on places like Twitter and other forms of social media.  I met my husband as a result of it, and many of my best friends.

It was exciting to be a part of this, from beginning to end.  I want to thank the 12s who have welcomed me into their fold, and it’s nice to see that some of them will even send newspapers to this coast, like I would do when something good happened to the Mets!

Now in addition to going to baseball trips, we’ll now be traveling 12s, at least for one game a season.

coopedhawk  seahawkscelebrate

See, when we went to CenturyLink last time, the Seahawks won.  So my husband can allow that.

Remember folks, it’s only weird if it doesn’t work.

DSCN8909

And trust me, we know from weird.

When Did We Become Such Cold Weather Crybabies?

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I think it started during the football game in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  Green Bay is not exactly known for its balmy weather and tropical beaches. It’s the midwest.  It’s frickin cold out there.  Even fans of the Packers joke about how many layers they need to wear.  I wish I could find it, but the point has been moot for me, there was an article in the New York Times a few years back about a fan who wore several layers in preparation for late seasons and playoffs games.  It’s a ritual, and something accepted amongst football fans in cold weather climates.  Think: Buffalo, Green Bay, Chicago.

Prior to their playoff game on January 5th, everyone was beside themselves.  OOOOOH, it’s gonna be freezing…in Wisconsin…in January.

I was surprised.  I mean, isn’t it a given that it’s an occupational not to mention a spectator “hazard” that if you work or watch an outdoor sport, unless you are in a dome, you’re going to be exposed to the elements?  I mean, shit, football doesn’t even have postponements or delays related to rain (unless, of course, there is lightning).  You play through that shit.

The beginning of 2014 hasn’t exactly been boastful of an unseasonably warm climate, especially in the northeast, where we’ve had the phrase Polar Vortex become an essential part of our lexicon.  It’s snowed quite a few times, and I’ve even joked around with my friends about how the cold isn’t so bad, but factor in wind and snow elements, I’m over it.

We chat about the weather with total strangers.  We joke about not wanting to be outside in the elements.  People buy dog booties for their dog walks.  We get bundled up to walk to the corner store or even to drive somewhere.  It goes with the territory.

But I draw the line at people complaining about it being cold at a voluntary outdoor sporting event.  Really?  I mean, REALLY, guys?  It’s January, and it’s in the northeast.

IT’S GONNA BE COLD HERE.

I will give fans who attended the game credit: I didn’t see many people complaining on that end about the Stadium Series on Sunday.  Most of the folks there are die hard.  They do get the fact that one needs to bundle up to enjoy the game.  Yet, I see tweets like this that get my blood boiling.

Every single person in that stadium yesterday was there voluntarily.  Each person presumably bought a ticket, and attended on their own free will.

The players, however, get paid a very handsome salary to play these games.  The night before, a game was played in Los Angeles, not exactly a hotbed (pun not intended) of perfect outdoor ice hockey activity.  We didn’t hear one problem with the “ice.”  But in the Bronx in January by the goddamn Harlem River, Devils goalie Martin Brodeur blames the ice on his poor performance (The Rangers scored 6 goals against him before he was taken out of the game…mind you the Devils also scored 3 goals in the first period…no one had a problem with the ice before then??)

Oh, but there’s more.  This week, Super Bowl XLVIII will be held at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, NJ.  Now, all the cold weather crybabies are reporting on the nonstory that “WAHHH! It’s gonna be COLD and elemental in New Jersey IN JANUARY. WAHHHHHHHHH!”

Bite me.

This time around, it’s not Uncle Daddy or any of the players crying about the weather or potential hazard of it.  It’s mostly the sportswriters who all of a sudden have a sympathy for the players who get paid millions of dollars to play on the big stage…in the snow, rain, or sleet.  Shit, I’ve seen frickin beautiful days here with low temps.  Has anyone considered that the Super Bowl could be played in something like THAT??!

The Denver Broncos and the Seattle Seahawks kind of corner the market on playing in the elements.  Denver gets snow.  Seattle gets rain.  The only people I see “inconvenienced” with the weather are people who have to sit in the stands (who are paying around $2,000 for an upper bowl seat) and the writers who are subscribing to some of the laziest journalism I have ever borne witness.

Their headlines are akin to chatting about the weather.  Is this the state of sports writing today?

I just have a tough time believing that when New York/New Jersey was chosen as the Super Bowl venue, that no one considered weather factors.

It’s January in the Northeast.  Guess what?

It’s cold here.

Smells Like Green Spirit

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My husband and I get around.  We are sports fans and we LOVE to travel, therefore, we are traveling SPORTS FANS.

In the middle of all this comes the advent of social media, and we have friends in most of the states we visit.

Two baseball seasons ago, we visited Arlington, Texas, and we met some Mets fans from the San Antonio area.  When I told them we wanted to make it to a San Antonio Missions game simply to meet Ballapeño, their pepper-inspired mascot, they made it a point to mail us a stuffed critter replica.

Since then, Ballapeño Pepe Sanchez Gomez has taken a life of his own.

You won’t meet a bigger Jets fan than him.  He’s not only green but their quarterback is a Sanchez, a fellow Mexican-American.

Speaking of being a Jets fan, I often say that out of all the sports, I like football the least.  It doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a game every now and then.  It’s just that I prefer baseball and hockey, and well, with hockey not being played any time soon…football is going to have to suffice.  Of course, the New York Rangers were my closest team winning a championship anytime in the near future.  But my football Jets…uh…yeah.  The furthest thing from it.  And it doesn’t seem like they’re interested in winning anything, let alone a stupid game, at all.  Just to, you know, torture me.

My husband, though, is a rare one.  He’s a Bronx boy who roots for the Mets, and his other two teams – basketball and football – have nothing to do with one another and have to do with serendipitous circumstances.  He happened to like John Stockton and Karl Malone, and roots for the Utah Jazz today as a result.  (True story, is that I also used to root for the Jazz, since they were the only team to play the Bulls it seemed when I really wanted Chicago to lose).

He happened to catch a playoff game in 1983 featuring the Seattle Seahawks.  It turns out it was their first.  He’s rooted for them ever since.

He also celebrated a milestone birthday this year.  Coupled with the Jets visiting Seattle to face his Seahawks this year, which like never ever happens, his birthday and me completing the marathon a week before (which did not go down, obviously), we figured a quick getaway to Seattle was in order.

I told Gal for All Seasons podcast regular “WHOOMP!” ThereItIs Jake that I wouldn’t mind if the Jets lost the game we were going to — I mean, a team HAS to lose right? (no one told that to San Francisco this weekend though) — but that the Jets would probably win just to fuck with me.

Well they didn’t, and even the TD they scored was completely by accident.  In fact, good friend Wooooo was nice enough to send this picture to remind me of how annoying this game was for a visiting Jets fan.

I digress.

When I was in high school, a music movement called “grunge” infiltrated our vocabulary and our ears.  This movement was based in the Pacific Northwest region, and most importantly, Seattle.  Being a huge music fan, I always made it a point to want to travel to Seattle, I just never had a reason to go.  I guess that it’s unfortunate that there will be a few states in the Union that I’ll never visit, simply because there is no baseball or the Mets won’t be visiting that year.

I’m weird.

But Seattle has baseball…so that I haven’t made it to Safeco Field at least just once yet surprises even me.  But I had no reason not to go this time.

I had never followed my football team on the road.  I had never been to Seattle.  My husband will only turn 40 once.  Therefore, it was on.

On Friday, our first full day in the caffeinated city (where I had a hard time finding a place that was non-Starbucks), we decided to do stadium tours of both Safeco and CenturyLink.  On the light rail over to the stadiums area (they are little spitting distance from one another), we met some other Jets fans in from out of town.  Though they lived on the west coast now (California), they were from Long Island.  And up to see the Jets play.

On the CenturyLink tour, we met another couple from New York where the wife was a Jets fan and the husband was a Seahawks fan.

I thought…it was nice to see others traveling to see their teams play.  No matter what side of the fence they were on.

But people were still surprised we traveled that far.  Especially with the chance of one of our teams losing.  Here’s my thoughts on that: one will have to lose.  I travel all over to see my teams play, and there’s a 50/50 chance they may lose.  I make my peace with it before I travel.  There’s more to it than just my team winning at that point.  It’s not like the Jets are going to the playoffs or anything that this game was a must-win.

So I got a drink out of it.  A few, actually.

Jets fans are known to be a little bit on the uncouth side,  a tad rowdy, and lots of fun.  I know there’s also a bit of a reputation of us being douchebags (it’s true, but let’s be fair – ALL fan bases have them), so I was curious to see how we’d be on the road.

One of the things I noticed first off, though the stadiums are in an industrial and underdeveloped area of what is known as “SoDo” in Seattle (technically borders the area), there is not a lot of parking available.  I remember reading a few years ago that Seattle is the worst state for traffic in the 50…I didn’t drive, but I can attest that it didn’t look pretty to drive around in some areas.  Kind of reminded me of Boston, essentially one highway in and out of the city.  Anyway, the next time New York fans complain about how expensive it is to park for baseball games will get smacked upside the head by me.  Parking — not even in PRIME LOTS — can cost upwards of $40-50 for events.  Talk about price gauging, hubby noticed that any other days (since we were there two days before the game), it’s like EIGHT BUCKS.  Plus, much of the prime location parking lots are covered.  Therefore, that means not lots of tailgating.

Part of the charm of going to a football game is the tailgating.  In fact, when the city talked about moving the Jets to the West Side Stadium (that was never built) a few years ago, I was dead set against it.  The traffic for game days would be abominable but also, where would we tailgate?  It would be a travesty, really, because even if the team loses, the tailgates really are a lot of fun.  Losing that is like losing the green in our team colors.

But on game days, they do make accommodations for tailgating…they actually OPEN Safeco Field on the Center Field side to the Left Field concourse and have concessions open and sell beer for “happy hour prices.”  The admission is free, but of course you pay for food.  Keep in mind this is also west coast time.  By the time this game started, many of the east coast games had finished or were finishing.  There were TVs on the games around the horn.   It was a great atmosphere.  We were disappointed we were not aware of this soiree, as we would have LOVED to show up earlier to experience some of the charm.

Jets fans were there.  We were politely heckled, but mostly, everyone kept their cool.  I can’t say it would be like that in New York/East Rutherford.  I remember seeing the Jets play the Vikings in 2002, I think, and some dude wore Helga braids and Viking horns.  I thought he was cool, but the rowdy drunk Jets fans heckled him mercilessly, to the point where I thought the dude was going to punch someone.

   

For the most part, the fans were very chill here.  On both sides.  I introduced myself to other Jets fans, and got some pics as evidenced above.  It was like we survived a war or something, traveling to follow our teams even though there was a good chance they’d lose.

Of course, they did.  Which leads me to Mark Sanchez.  I have made no bones that I am a Sanchez chick.  He’s my guy, and I don’t get why the blame gets solely put on him.  Yes, there was that funny pic of the interception which in essence changed the game dynamic.  Yes, they scored on defense, and it was a complete accident.

He’s kind of like the David Wright of the Jets, if you think about it.  The kid with talent who is completely misused, but is a complimentary player, not necessarily the “star QB.”  That’s the difference between a Sanchez and say, a Tom Brady.  Brady can carry a team, even with shitty defense.  He’s that talented.  Sanchez is talented, but if you remember two years in a row, he helped bring the team the conference championship game two years in a row.  To paraphrase President Obama, he didn’t build that.  He didn’t do it on his own.  As quickly as the Jets rose to stardom, ownership was just as quick in dismantling it by letting key players leave and injuries.

Being a Mets fan, I guess I am a little sensitive to dismantling after a successful run with no reason or rhyme

Once the game was started, we sat in a section called the Hawks’ Nest.  This was in the end zone, and I guess I was expecting a bit of a louder more rowdy crowd.  You see, CenturyLink is called the “loudest stadium,” and holy shit, when the “12th Man Flag” was raised prior to kickoff, it was deafening.  I don’t know if the blowout was the reason or just maybe I got used to it.  But while passionate, the fans were also very laidback.  There were two Jets fans sitting in front of us — we were dining our guts, meanwhile Seahawks fans were talking us down from the ledge.  It was pretty comical.

 

The first pic of the Hawks Nest is from our tour.  On game day, our weather karma ran out and it misted most of the first half, to rain-rain-rain the second half.  When we left, we walked in the rain to Chinatown, the next neighborhood over.  It didn’t let up, even as we left that evening.

Another thing I learned on the tour was that being that CenturyLink is considered the loudest stadium, and trust me, it was, some players complain about playing there.

As I got on the elevator with some other fans (Jets fans also took the tour), I was like, “I’m sorry, but aren’t these guys professionals?  ‘WAH! It’s too loud! WAH!’ What a bunch of pussies.”  That got a good laugh.  But it’s true!  Don’t go into pro sports if you can’t take a few loud fans.  /RANT

So there’s not much else to tell.  The Jets lost, and looked awful in the process.  The Seahawks won, and the Jets fans around me all talked about how their defense was sick.  Which is funny – wasn’t that supposed to be the Jets’ MO?

 

We had hoped that after the game there would still be tailgates open, but I guess like most stadiums, they close down concessions after a certain time.  Most importantly, stop serving beer.  So we hung out in Chinatown for a few hours, had some food, had some beer, and then went home.

Experiencing a road football game was something different for me.  I’ve only gone to see my baseball team on the road, and even have gone to games for the hell of it, even if my team wasn’t there.  It never occurred to me to go to a football game.  Hell, even my hockey team I didn’t follow around all that often.  Just across the river to Jersey.

In any event, I’d definitely do a trip like this again.  I’ve heard great things about M&T Bank Stadium, where the Baltimore Ravens play, and I’ve wanted to check out Heinz Field.

All I can say is CenturyLink was a great place to watch a game – very spirited, fun stuff to do pregame.  Doubt I’ll be going back to Seattle anytime soon though.

I was disappointed though in the coffee and the music.  I didn’t find a good cup of coffee nor did I see any places to review local bands.   However, I was one of those late bloomers who didn’t appreciate Nirvana till it was too late, but I still love me some Pearl Jam.  We were also greeted by the voice of Jerry Cantrell from Alice in Chains at SeaTac Airport.

I came as I was, but forgot my flannels at home.

Just Pey No

New York Jets, NFL, , , , One comment

I know it’s been like a week since Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts announced they have agreed that after a storied career with the franchise, Manning would no longer be a Colt.  It’s sad, since he’s been very successful, but he’s also been what we call “hurt” and at the end of the day, we know this is a business.

Yet, I had people asking me to weigh in on it.  I thought since I’ve said it on Twitter that my position is clear on the idea of Peyton Manning on the Jets.  I mean, I am a Jets fan first, but there are players who deserve my respect, and I always respected the shit out of Peyton.  Thought it was a shame that if his career were to end, it would be this way and not via a retirement road show like he deserves.  That’s about the extent of it.

Meaning, don’t even bother asking me if I want him on my team.  The short answer is no.

The long answer – are you fucking crazy? Why the hell would he be a good fit for the Jets AT ALL in this lifetime?  Like, I don’t know why this is even a discussion.  Hell-to-the-NO is more like it for the long answer.

Besides, this was written on Friday afternoon, and by Friday evening, it was announced that the Jets had extended Mark Sanchez with a three-year deal.  So a lot of this is moot now.

Yet, I had some people try to argue with me why it would be a good idea for Peyton Manning to be a Jet.  I listened, since I like to think of myself as a compassionate version of Mike Francesa (ok, that’s a bad example, since I’m comparing myself to a know-nothing blowhard radio guy), but I don’t want to be abrupt or condescending.  If someone brings up a good point to me, I’ll acknowledge it but tell people how I feel afterwards.

Someone suggested to me that Peyton could help the Jets bring home a Super Bowl.  And if I eat broccoli today, I could take a dump tomorrow.  Look, maybe five years ago Peyton could win a Super Bowl in New York.  With his injury history and obvious deterioration, it’s not the best idea, especially when we already have Sanchez here.  Hiccups and all, Sanchez is our guy, as I discussed with Jon Presser on my podcast a few weeks ago.  Even Eli Manning has two Super Bowl titles, and he led the league in interceptions not more than two years ago!

I know Peyton Manning will end up somewhere.  But if anyone merely suggests that he could cure what ills the New York Jets at this point, they’re sorely mistaken.  Like, didn’t we just go through that mess with Brett Far-ver-uh in 2008?

Here’s where I think Peyton would be a good fit:

1.) Seattle Seahawks

2.) Miami Dolphins

3.) ….Yeah, that’s about it.

I know it’s a longshot, but you come here for my opinion, and I’m gonna give it to you.  I like and respect Peyton Manning, but to suggest he could do better or be better than what we have is a massive overstatement.  Sanchez is our guy and the sooner we realize that, the better off we’ll all be (and the Jets took care of that for us today).  But, you know, best of luck to Peyton on his job search.  He’ll be employed in no time.

Plus, I wouldn’t want that Sausage Race looking mother fucker on my team anyway.

 

Uncanny resemblance, right?

Kamikaze Jets

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My husband is a "12th Man" for Seattle

My husband is a Seattle Seahawks fan.  True story.  He started watching them in December of 1983, and became a die hard ever since.  No one ever told my husband he was “basic,” and that’s the truth.  Although he’s a local Mets fan (but he grew up in the Bronx of course), his basketball team is located in Utah (Jazz), and football team is in a city he’s never visited (Seattle, natch).

Imagine his surprise when last year during the football playoffs, AM New York had a feature on team-focused bars, and they featured Carlow East, a Seattle Seahawks-fan bar that broadcasts every game (and since the Seahawks aren’t exactly a “national” team like, say, the Dallas Cowboys are, it’s rare he gets to see them on National TV).  They don’t have a kitchen, but they have cheap drinks, and are chill about allowing you to bring food into the establishment.  But on football game days, they do bring in a buffet.  Just your standard pastas, salads, wings, and wares like sausage and peppers.  Drawbacks are that they don’t make mimosas (no sparkling wine), don’t have coffee (so no nutty Irishmen or other adult coffee drinks), and they’re on the East Side of the island which is like Guam to me.  BUT they made up a lot of ground by offering us take out menus (an extensive list) and by suggesting I get my own coffee from across the street, and then charging me for a “shot” to “nutty it up,” as the bartender said.

For a brief moment, I wished I was a Seahawks fan, or just a team that doesn’t exactly have “local” roots.  During the game, they had Seahawks based chants like “SEA-Fense!” or “Sea! HAWKS! Sea! HAWKS!”  Whenever the Seahawks scored a touchdown, they gave everyone a round of Seahawk-blue inspired Kamikaze shots.  (Similar to what the Chapmans do on Mets opening day each year, they substitute Blue Curacao to give the margaritas a blue tinge, as opposed to using just plain ol’ Triple Sec, a colorless orange liqueur).

    

Yes, we went from euphoria (well, as euphoric as I can get watching a game with no rooting interest…but I did appreciate being there with a fan base I know so little), to watching the Jets game.  The life of a Jets fan, of course.

Anyone have a hit of Viagra I can use?  That game was as flaccid as…well…never mind.  Simply, the Jets were just awful.  It was so bad that I actually enjoyed, THOROUGHLY enjoyed cleaning my house.  I even cleaned the cat’s litter boxes.  My house is now clean, but the Jets still got annihilated.  At least I can hang my hat on THAT, watching it in a clean house.

So what went wrong?  Well, whatever it was went very RIGHT for the Eagles, a team I cannot stand.  Look, nothing business, just personal.  I hate the goddamn city.  I hate that they have a NYC complex (they should already know we’re the superior city).  I hate Michael Vick (Sorry but I actually DO think most animals should be treated better than people).  I hate the Phillies.  I hate all their stinking drunk idiot fans.  And they ALL spill over into the Linc when the Phillies aren’t playing.  I have an exception for Flyers fans though.  They seem to know their shit.  I can respect that.  All I know is for all the goodwill that the Phils are bringing to their city, sportswise, no one fucking appreciates it.  They’d give it all up for ONE Super Bowl ring, and they all know it.

Now that I got THAT out of my system.  The things that went RIGHT for the Iggles?  Well they proved that not only practice makes perfect (they have a chance to bounce into the playoffs after a lackluster start to the season, how about that for some shit), but that studying does indeed go the extra mile or in this case, extra few hundred yards or so.  The Eagles found the weakness of the Death Star of Jets defense, as they were running plays easily being called.  Fab.

I suppose if there were a game they had to lose, it would be today.  In the category of how ’bout that for some shit, still, the Jets didn’t technically lose any ground.  Huh.  It’s not going to be easy of course, considering they had their life in their hands, and blew it.  Well, all I can say is they better fuckin’ win next week, in the Toilet Bowl as EJ from Happy Recap called it on Twitter yesterday.  Because Sexy Rexy is running his fuckin’ mouth AGAIN.  Look, say what you want about Rex Ryan, but he always flaps his trap (he won’t stop so we may as well enjoy it).  Yet, he can admit where he’s wrong afterwards and ALWAYS takes the heat off his players when it comes down to it.  Seriously though, after this shit show the NY fans had to be subjected to this week?  Although with the shoe on other foot, when the Giants countered with a trash-talk won’t help the Jets, but hey, this game has just as much bearing on the G-men too.

If all was right in the world, this game would mean nothing but bragging rights to the winning fan base (and honestly, I don’t dislike the Giants. I just prefer the Jets).  But lately there’s been a lot of “my overrated quarterback is better than YOUR overrated quarterback” so I’d nothing better than to bash the Giants’ skulls in at any chance.  Yet this game is all of a sudden a must-win scenario for either team.

JUST WHAT I NEED ON CHRISTMAS EVE WHEN I’M AT MY MOM’S, PEOPLE.

I started the day drinking Kamikaze shots in honor of my husband’s team, while the Jets shitbombed their own kamikaze attack on themselves to make a game that should have meant nothing mean everything.

Sounds about right to me.  Merry Fucking Christmas, Jets fans.