Tuesday, December 28, 2004

J-E-T-S, choke! choke! choke!

There are few certainties in life, but until recently, 'death, taxes, and a Red Sox collapse' were givens. Now that the 'Sons of Epstein' have given Babe Ruth a kick in the ass, it's high time that the New York football Jets and their annual December collapse be a concept that you can "take to the bank".

With a 10-4 record and a chance to knock off the defending champ Patriots at home in the rotten apple, the Jets did what they always do, nothing. Between the time Ed the Drunken Fireman led his first idiotic "J-E-T-S" chant and when Chad "Big Game" Pennington whimpered off the field, the Patriots had dismantled the Jets 23-7 in front of 77,000 dead-beat dads and work-release ex-cons in New Jersey.

The great part of this story is Pennington, the blond-haired, corn-fed 'Huckleberry Finn' reject, who seems to be Tom Brady in Superman's "Bizarro-World". The bigger the game, the worse the former Marshall product plays. He's like a football combination of Mike Dukakis, Ernie Banks, and the "Hindenberg" disaster. This is the same backwards clown who reminded us all it is a "privilege" to watch him and his Jets play.

Although it's easy to stick the hillbilly tag on Pennington since he's a Marshall grad, it should be noted that he was actually a finalist for Rhodes Scholarship while a member of the Thundering Herd. Come to think of it, no one will ever confuse Marshall with any school of llegitimate academic integrity. Realistically, earning a Rhodes Scholarship from Marshall is the northeast equivilent of earning 'dining privileges at Wendy's', so maybe I should temper my comments here.

Regardless, the Pennington Jets, once again, are circling the bowl this December. If they don't win on Sunday vs. St. Louis, they could very easily find themselves drinking vodka martinis with Joe Namath while watching the playoffs on TV once again this winter.

Tough sports year for our criminal friends 200 miles to the south. This member of 'the Nation took a field trip to the Jets/Pats game a few years ago and I must say, these scumbags can't be more miserable for me. Just knowing Jet fans were unhappy was the greatest gift I got this Christmas. I guess us Bostonians can teach New Yorkers a little phrase we don't need around these parts anymore, "wait 'til next year".

Collar Up.

- DW

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