Keidel: Blizzards, Not Wizards

By Jason Keidel
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In a day made for football, New York morphing into a snow globe, neither New York team played in the blizzard. But both played in a fog yesterday.

A week removed from gagging a 21-point lead to the Eagles, the Giants are fading from the playoff picture after the Green Bay Packers dismantled them at Lambeau Field. The Giants now need to win and get by with a little help from their foes.

And thus it seems the Jets, hardly a case study in Super Bowl glory, are the lone club to march our city to the title. If yesterday – or the last month – is any indication, the Jets will soon follow the Giants to a Caribbean golf course.

Jay Cutler, the man with a golden arm but a questionable mind, mined the Jets' secondary at will, playing sandlot ball with his wideouts before a baffled defense that was supposed to be the Jets' anchor, a unit built to carry Mark Sanchez through his second season in the NFL.

Cutler tossed three touchdowns, Matt Forte ran for over 100 yards, and Devin Hester dissected the Jets' special teams with his normal, video game absurdity. If it seemed like the Bears started every drive in the Jets' territory, it's because they almost did.

Last week, the media took a two-day break from reportage, obsessed over an odd video involving feet and the football coach. That is the least of Rex Ryan's problems, as the Jets are hemorrhaging yards and points at a time when teams with Super Bowl goals should peak. The Patriots bludgeoned the Jets on national television and the defense hasn't recovered.

Ryan inherits his father's hubris, a countenance of dominance even in defeat, though pop and pupil only won championships as assistants. Rex's status as favorite son and town clown is only cuddly when the results match his words. If he keeps losing, Ryan will quickly devolve from loquacious to loud, from large to fat, and from winner to loser.

With Jacksonville losing yesterday, the Jets are assured a spot in the playoffs, but at 1-3 since they darted to 9-2, there is little mojo in the Meadowlands.

"I'm a huge Redskin fan, I can tell you that right now," said Ryan after Washington defeated the Jaguars. What else can he say? He's hardly a fan of his own franchise after finding Chicago not to be his kind of town.

The Jets moonwalked into the playoffs last year and made it memorable, but they are setting a perilous precedent in assuming that the best team during the playoffs is not the best team before the playoffs. All indications are that the AFC is New England's to lose, with Tom Brady playing a brand of football only known to a handful of quarterbacks in NFL history.

More often than not, a championship team either has a volcanic quarterback or a tornadic defense. The Jets have neither, and this time the town actually expects something from them. There isn't the inherent charm of the underdog glowing in the Jets this year. They told the world they were great, and now the world is waiting

Ryan has the full blessing of his bosses. A few doors down, Tom Coughlin may coach his final game with the Giants this weekend. But Coughlin would leave the season and the sport with a distinguished career, including a Vince Lombardi Trophy, something the Jets haven't seen since the Beatles were still a band.

When each team was 6-2, local newspapers projected a subway Super Bowl. We are renowned for premature proclamations of greatness. Now we'll just settle for a sporting version of a dollar and a dream – a chubby chief waddling his way through the snow, leading with his lips, going as far as they will take him.

Feel free to email me: Jakster1@mac.com