THE STORY OF THE MAN,
THE LEGEND OF THE FAN.

Hey there, bud.

I’d like to be the first to thank you for checking out my site. A lot of relatively hard non-physical work goes into the maintenance of the Jets Kvetch, and it’s because of readers like you that I even bother updating this silly thing. My name’s Max, and I’m the creator, author, editor and illustrator of this, the world’s number one New York Jets fan site (allegedly). I’m also the guy who steals all the pictures from other blogs and reposts them without offering any credit.

Since you’ve already made my site your homepage and printed out every post and Scotch taped them to your walls, maybe it’s time you get to know me some. For starters, I’m a dyed-in-the wool Jets fan, and like every mentally unstable homer with access to a computer, I decided to show off my unhealthy fixation with my team online. Below are a couple of quick facts you need to know about your’s truly. Hopefully they interest you, and I’d recommend holding on to them to use later as cribnotes if we ever go on a date or something.

The VITALS
Name: Max “The Manhole” V.V.
Date of Birth: November 11th, 1988
Hometown: Wayne, NJ – “Home of the Fightin’ Affluent White People”
Occupation: Liberal Arts major at fabulous Purdue University
Favorite Jet: Curtis Martin

My life as a Jets fan began early. I was born in the middle of a three game losing streak, of which I assume (and can only hope) I was totally unaware. How conscious I could have been of my first ever home game, a loss to the Patriots that kicked off a 4-12 season, I also do not know, although again, I pray the answer is “not very.” The earliest football memory I can be sure of came years later, watching Dennis Byrd lying dead still on the floor on a windy December afternoon and wishing I were home with my Nintendo. That wasn’t much better. In fact, were it not for the 1998 season and the heroics of Vinny Testaverde, Wayne Chrebet and my guy Curtis, I’d likely never had developed into the true fan I am today.

A young man can only lose to the Dolphins so many times, but an adult, well, he’s stuck for life, come hell, high water, or the Detroit Lions.

So here I am, not only bleeding green and white, but also sometimes having it come out of my nose, too. As of the moment I write this, that’s not such a bad thing. Rex Ryan is really changing the way things work around here, and the future is as bright and beautiful as the glimmering mystery of aurora borealis.

I no longer live in Jersey, though. Right now I’m studying out in Indiana, surrounded by bandwagon Colts fans in Peyton Manning uniforms who are only vaguely aware of the illegitimacy of that purloined horseshoe logo they all worship. It’s true that I no longer get to see very many home games in person, but prior to departing the East Coast for Indiana I was a regular in Section 333, where my grandfather has held season tickets since the 80s. The experience has left a very definite impression upon me, one which I hope to find advantageous in my work for this site. You can see a lot at the Meadowlands, as any Jets fan can tell you, and one does not quickly forget having beer spilled frequently on their eight year old head, nor the sight of numerous grown men resisting security forces as they are carried off to Jets Jail. Though I’m not sure the atmosphere can compare with that of the student section on college football Saturdays, I do very much miss the madness of the home crowd.

With any luck the Jets Kvetch will be able to fill that void, and keep me close to the team I love in spirit, if not spatially. So what if I have to illegally stream the Week Five game against the 49ers and read the Post online? You can take the Jew out of Jersey, but you can’t take the Jet out of the Jew! Or — something.

Anyway, yeah, nice meeting you. Keep reading, alright? This thing is the only reason I have for waking up in the morning.

- Manhole Out.

P.S. – Don’t believe me when I say that my Jets obsession goes too far? There are exactly six pockmarks on Mark Sanchez’s face. That’s the same number that’s on his jersey! You would have noticed this too if you cared as much as I do.