When I was invited to write a guest Kvetch, I was pumped. One, I just like the site. I am first and foremost a football fan, and I get an inordinate amount of joy from my interactions with other football fans (he conceded, conveniently bypassing the psychoanalysis that might otherwise be warranted), and Jets fans are high on my list for their undying passion. But two, your New York Jets are constructed after my own pigskin-wrapped heart. They were built in a manner that conforms to the way I would build a team, were anyone simply wise enough to hire me to do so. And as a lifelong Browns fan, if I wanted to go the easy route, I could boil my 2010 Jets analysis down to one very precise word:

Jealousy.

It might be a deadly sin, but I watched with envy for years as New York’s brain trust loaded up on high-grade, trench-dwelling monsters like Nick n’ Brick, and making savvy trades for key components like the Sanchize (the pick for whom you scored from my Browns and your former coach, The Manguin, in return for relatively little). Of course, it hasn’t yet resulted in the kinds of winning you’re looking for, but I have long believed the Jets were on the right track. Now I am sure of it.

Operating a website is a lot like owning a home, provided that it costs a lot less, doesn’t come with a kitchen and is actually nothing like owning a home. But just as one is forever seeking to improve their living conditions, webmasters are constantly looking to make their sites better, sexier and more user-friendly. I’m no different. For the last week, I’ve spent an almost unhealthy number of hours fiddling with Wordpress to find ways to make the Jets Kvetch, at least on a superficial level, the finest football blog known to man, and while I don’t believe that I’m there just yet, there’s a lot of new stuff to be proud of.

The casual eye, merely grazing over the site before moving on down the bookmarks list, would perhaps not notice any differences at all. Sure enough, the basic layout and appearance of the page has not changed. The crazy moving header is still there, and posts are still presented in the same format they’ve used since February. Yet if one were to take advantage of all the services that the site offers beyond the posts themselves, they would find that nearly every aspect of the Jets Kvetch experience has been virtually transformed.

Word has recently broken that the Jets have cozied up quite heavily to one Mr. Jason Taylor, of the South Florida (and sometimes Washington!) Taylors. Jason, as you may recall, is one of the most decorated defensive ends of this generation, and would be an amazing addition to the team at a critical position. He is also the single biggest dickwallet in the history of turdknockers, and should be considered an enemy to Jets fans everywhere, even if he does suit up in green in 2010. But let’s take a step back for a minute and assess where we stand in the Taylor negotiations, and the respective pluses and minuses of a presumptive signing. For starters, Taylor is with the Jets right now, and Tim Graham says that it is our intention to sign him up by the day’s end. We’ve taken him on the obligatory tour of our new stadium and ran his career highlights video on the Jumbotron just for him! (Early reports have it that upon seeing that many images of himself, Taylor promptly requested a Kleenex and directions to the nearest bathroom) Ordinarily, I’d be very happy about the prospect of us signing a star away from the Dolphins, especially knowing that the Patriots are also looking to add him to their pass rush. If we do manage to lock him up, it will further the growing belief that the Jets are now among the NFL’s best “recruiters;” a team that always ‘gets their man.’ All of this would be fine, again, under average circumstances and when centered around a normal player. But Jason Taylor is no normal player – my no! Jason Taylor is the Anti-Jet.

The fans told the whole story.

On December 27th, 2009, the last football Sunday of the old decade, nearly 79,000 fans traveled out to East Rutherford, NJ to say goodbye to Giants Stadium, their home since 1976. Though acknowledged by most as an outmoded eyesore, the big blue and red bowl meant much to fans of the New York Football Giants. After all, it was upon its swampy soil that the seeds of three world championships had been planted. It was the house of Simms, Strahan, Carson and LT. It was where Mark Bavaro broke his jaw dragging Ronnie Lott, and where Bill Parcells became the Big Tuna. It was a true Giant, not only in name, and respectful fans raised aloft signs proclaiming its greatness. “Thanks for the memories!” they shouted en masse.

Until their guys lost 41-9 to a 6-8 Panthers team, forcing them to shuffle out early into the cold to beat the traffic on Route 3.

On January 3rd, 2010, the first football Sunday of the new decade, over 79,000 fans traveled out to East Rutherford, NJ to say good riddance to the Meadowlands, a worthless hellhole they never should have moved to in the first place. In the two and a half decades since then-owner Leon Hess bullied his across the Hudson River, the Jets had been nothing but two bit losers playing in a stadium named for another team. Every other Sunday, the grounds crew would repaint the end zones, change the flags atop the parking lot toll booths and lay out the green sideline runners, on which the team’s three retired numbers were unceremoniously painted in the northwest corner, near section 107. What didn’t change was the name on the outside, or the bright red seats. Oh, Goddamn those bright red seats. For New York’s AFC franchise, this was the house of Coslet, Carroll, Kotite and Mangini, the place where the Super Bowl dreams that began in 1982 were buried along with Jimmy Hoffa.

The Jets beat the Bengals 37-0 to earn a spot in the playoffs. The fans reacted by violently and spontaneously snapping seatbacks and breaking cupholders.

Please excuse the poor quality of the above video – it was shot on my crap cellphone no more than a minute after the Jets clinched the fifth seed in the AFC playoffs tonight. I do not feel that it, nor any video, whether it was captured on a camcorder or an HD rig, could possibly portray the adrenaline and joy that surged through that stadium at that moment. It’s, like, what, 1:30am now, and I’m still out of breath. My entire body aches. I have no voice to speak of (or with!), and I actually needed to suppress vomit mid-puke not five minutes ago. I’m worried that if I stop typing I might just fall asleep on the spot. 24 Goddamned years in that horrible stadium (that’s 192 home games, plus four home playoff games) and this, THIS night that topped them all!! Not the Monday Night Miracle, not the Green Bay Massacre, not 41-0…TONIGHT. Even if we go off and get bounced in the first round, I will never forget what happened here, and I dare say I am actually going to miss that cement POS.

Because tonight was the best of my Jets loving life. AND THIS IS HOW IT WENT DOWN.