Live by the punt. Die by the punt.

With the Jets offense descending into new levels of ineptitude, Heroes of one week are the villains of the next.

On Monday night, amidst the fanfare and festivity that is MNF, the NY Jets were led out onto the field by their punter Thomas Morstead. The previous week, the performance of Mr. Morstead was one the key factors to the win over their flatmates in a gross, pungent affair that made a mockery of the sport of football. The only thing worse than winning that game, would have been losing it. The play of Morstead, coupled with the stingy Jet defense prevented us from suffering  further ignominy. Thus, in an effort to celebrate Sir Thomas Morestead and emphasize that it takes a full team effort to win, it was the Jets punter who charged out into the field against the San Diego Chargers, beneath the American flag. And on his first play, he promptly out kicked his coverage and gave up a punt return touchdown. 

This little vignette is a perfect encapsulation of the torment reserved for Jets fans. Even our few rare good moments are abhorrent to the football gods. Your team and fans showed  appreciation for one of the underrated positions in the sport who showed up and did his job? Next week it will be a dagger in your heart. You have a great defense? You will have a historically bad offense. You want an incredibile pass rush? Fine, we will take the souls of the  offensive line so your quarterback gets rag dolled all day. Every positive forward is immediately paid for with a reversal. It is exhausting.

I now look back at Rodgers early injury with a feeling almost of gratitude. Zach Wilson may be a historically bad quarterback but he is hardly the sole person at fault for the sheer ineptitude we have seen on offense. Saved from the feeling of wasting a Hall of Famers twilights years, it is much easier to accept a turnstile offensive line, a receiving corp with more butterfingers than a score of trick or treaters, and a squad so undisciplined they would make the crew of the Hispaniola blush. Come to think of it, they might get better blocking out of Long John Silver than they are currently getting from Billy Fucking Turner. If he wasn’t already hurt and out for the season, I wouldn’t be opposed to making him the new Bootstrap Bill and tossing him overboard. Maybe we can just make Hackett walk the plank instead.

There is no need to rehash the abominations of the past two games other than to say that on the whole of it, I will take the win over the Giants at the cost of getting beat and constantly  mocked throughout Monday Night Football. As I have expressed before, I do not have an optimistic outlook on this season and will gladly take the small petty moments of victory that I can. The upcoming Raiders game sits at another inflection point on the schedule. At best, it will provide another week of Pirate puns and Sea Raider references. At worst, it will douse the final flickerings of hope for meaningful football past thanksgiving. Looking back at the psychological pain the first 8 weeks have  already caused me this season, it might be for the best for us all to move on and let my underperforming Islanders start their relentless beat down of my spirits. 

I would be remiss to not briefly touch upon the officiating, a topic I’ve tried to ignore as no matter how absurd the calls have been, no amount of complaining will change anything. I will say that with the Jets Pass rush almost getting home to the opposing quarterback about every pass play, that is ludicrous not a single hold has been called on the pass protection. Every replay seems to show more bear hugs and full body holds than an overzealous Prom dance floor. Apparently the refs are less attentive than the chauffeurs at the Catholic High School I attended. 

Raiders 17- Jets 10. The Autumn wind is a Raider.