The game was over.
The Jets were done, two minutes from losing their third consecutive game, this time to an opponent that has been in a tailspin for two months. The simmering bitterness was starting to erupt in the stands. One of my fellow fans vowed to not return for the Jets-Dolphins season finale in two weeks, while two others discussed the possibility that this loss would cost Mangini his job.
And then, a miracle...
From nowhere, the Jets snatched a victory. The defense, which had been sleeping all day, woke up and won the game. Well, terrible play-calling and execution by the Bills helped hand the game to the Jets. Whatever words you chose, the result was the same:
All hell broke loose.
After a review of the play confirmed a Jets touchdown, the crowd went bananas. In the ensuing celebration, the Professor took an ungainly tumble over the chairs into the row in front of us. Upon his return to an upright position, he decided his next celebratory move would be playfully punching his father in the arm. Unfortunately, that necessitated extending his arm past the person between him and his father - me.
He missed.
Normally, I would not enjoy getting punched in the nose. But given the circumstances, I brushed it off and continued the merriment, which featured so much yelling I fear I may have permanently damaged my vocal chords. A post-game meal at the happy house of meat did nothing to help the voice, but did give my tummy a delightful exclamation point on the day.
Five notes from the game...
1. It was a beautiful December day - sunny and crisp. It was cold and windy during the tailgate, but compared to two weeks ago it felt like a summer day.
2. Past experience has taught us that wine and egg nog (the tasty Pennyslvania Dutch version which conveniently comes pre-made with rum, brandy and whiskey) do not mix well. Imagine my delight to learn egg nog and Guinness is a perfect combination.
3. Along with our normal slate of beer, wine and other miscellaneous adult beverages, there were two additions to the cocktail menu. Someone made jello shots and another tailgater brought something called Tequila Rose. It looked like strawberry Nesquik. But laced with tequila. Trouble.
4. The caption on this photo on the NY Times web site reads: Jones's touchdown was set up with a run by Brett Favre, who wobbled up the left sideline, looking very much like a 39-year-old quarterback, gaining 27 yards as if in slow motion.
As you can imagine, I saw it differently. My caption would probably include words like "valiant" and "youthful." Agree to disagree.
That said, I actually yelled at His Holiness later in the game, when needing eight yards for a crucial first down with an open field ahead just begging for a run, he chose to throw an ill-advised pass that fell incomplete.
I immediately regretted my hurtful words and promise it will never happen again.
5. Before anyone brings it up, I am not yet ready to discuss the probability that the Jets-Dolphins game will be for all the marbles, and that Chad Pennington will arrive at the stadium with a chance to knock the team that abandoned him out of the playoffs.
I am also not ready to acknowledge the likelihood that the NFL will flex that game to the night game, to make it a national prime time game. A late game on Dec. 29 will not make for happy, sober fans.
The Jets were done, two minutes from losing their third consecutive game, this time to an opponent that has been in a tailspin for two months. The simmering bitterness was starting to erupt in the stands. One of my fellow fans vowed to not return for the Jets-Dolphins season finale in two weeks, while two others discussed the possibility that this loss would cost Mangini his job.
And then, a miracle...
From nowhere, the Jets snatched a victory. The defense, which had been sleeping all day, woke up and won the game. Well, terrible play-calling and execution by the Bills helped hand the game to the Jets. Whatever words you chose, the result was the same:
All hell broke loose.
After a review of the play confirmed a Jets touchdown, the crowd went bananas. In the ensuing celebration, the Professor took an ungainly tumble over the chairs into the row in front of us. Upon his return to an upright position, he decided his next celebratory move would be playfully punching his father in the arm. Unfortunately, that necessitated extending his arm past the person between him and his father - me.
He missed.
Normally, I would not enjoy getting punched in the nose. But given the circumstances, I brushed it off and continued the merriment, which featured so much yelling I fear I may have permanently damaged my vocal chords. A post-game meal at the happy house of meat did nothing to help the voice, but did give my tummy a delightful exclamation point on the day.
Five notes from the game...
1. It was a beautiful December day - sunny and crisp. It was cold and windy during the tailgate, but compared to two weeks ago it felt like a summer day.
2. Past experience has taught us that wine and egg nog (the tasty Pennyslvania Dutch version which conveniently comes pre-made with rum, brandy and whiskey) do not mix well. Imagine my delight to learn egg nog and Guinness is a perfect combination.
3. Along with our normal slate of beer, wine and other miscellaneous adult beverages, there were two additions to the cocktail menu. Someone made jello shots and another tailgater brought something called Tequila Rose. It looked like strawberry Nesquik. But laced with tequila. Trouble.
4. The caption on this photo on the NY Times web site reads: Jones's touchdown was set up with a run by Brett Favre, who wobbled up the left sideline, looking very much like a 39-year-old quarterback, gaining 27 yards as if in slow motion.
As you can imagine, I saw it differently. My caption would probably include words like "valiant" and "youthful." Agree to disagree.
That said, I actually yelled at His Holiness later in the game, when needing eight yards for a crucial first down with an open field ahead just begging for a run, he chose to throw an ill-advised pass that fell incomplete.
I immediately regretted my hurtful words and promise it will never happen again.
5. Before anyone brings it up, I am not yet ready to discuss the probability that the Jets-Dolphins game will be for all the marbles, and that Chad Pennington will arrive at the stadium with a chance to knock the team that abandoned him out of the playoffs.
I am also not ready to acknowledge the likelihood that the NFL will flex that game to the night game, to make it a national prime time game. A late game on Dec. 29 will not make for happy, sober fans.
posted by jersey girl @ 1:13 AM
2 Comments:
At 12/15/2008 7:18 AM,
Anonymous said…
The NY jets have made me make the twins cry bloody murder for the XXXth week in a row. As Thomas failed to jump on the ball and Ellis picked it up (and held it like a joint)and started to rumble, bumble and stumble, yelling bagan and babies flipped out. Ten minutes later, they were OK. When will they get used to this? What do they expect every Sunday, daddy (and friends) sober reading the NY Times all Sunday afternoon? Come on now.
Unless the NYJ's really screw up next week, I am coming on the 28th (not the 29th), maybe with a special guest in place the Mrs.
BB
Today's word verification "knosionb", is that Russian?
At 12/16/2008 6:18 AM,
jersey girl said…
It's probably best you get the twins used to life on Sundays with the Jets as early as possible. I hope they were sleeping by the time the Giants game came on, because I can't imagine you were any happier during that.
Very much hope to see you for the season finale.
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