Hello Jets Nation,
First, I would like to thank Greenbean for giving me this opportunity on his platform. Before we get into the weekly columns where I will offer my analysis, predictions, personal fan experiences, and whatever other Jets-related idea may strike me that particular week, I wanted to take this first post and introduce myself to you, the reader, and a brief history of being a Jets fan.
I was born in the early 1980s in Edison, New Jersey. My dad was a casual football fan, but he identifies as a Cowboys fan, though I’ve never seen him wear a single piece of Dallas merchandise or heard him talk about the team. In the ’80s, both local teams had different levels of success and while I supported both, I found myself leaning towards the Giants, particularly the personality of Bill Parcells and the electric running style of Rodney Hampton.
But my next-door neighbor, Tom, was an avid Jets fan, his house was even painted kelly green. And in November 1991, he took my dad and me to my first pro football game. The Jets were playing the crummy Indianapolis Colts, and the Jets lost 28-27, it was the Colts’ only victory that entire season.
Nevertheless, the Jets would make it to the playoffs, beating Miami 23-20 in overtime on the final day of the regular season on that 30-yard field goal from Raul Allegre. From that season on, I decided to plant my flag in the camp for the green and white. Sure we weren’t the Giants, and we suffered through some horrendous seasons, but we were that fanbase that had that grittiness, that toughness, that loyalty. I learned during the really to mid-1990s that it takes something extra to be a Jets fan.
Six years later, midway through my high school days, I moved to the west suburbs of Chicago. All of a sudden, I was in Bears territory. And this was the time Bill Parcells came aboard, and I was more all in than I had ever been. Surrounded by fans of other teams, they see those other logos and it made me hold onto my New York allegiances that much tighter. I don’t know if I was ever convinced that that deep dish isn’t really pizza, but that’s okay.
Then in 1999, I began 4 years of college up in Boston, MA. And I thought Chicago was challenging! I did have to deal with one Belichick Super Bowl and I’m thankful that I didn’t have to deal with more. After graduation, it was back to Chicagoland. My regular place to watch games became Rookies in St Charles, IL. I would always find a seat somewhere around the square-shaped bar and I was always the only one wearing a Jets jersey, either Chad Pennington or Nick Mangold, probably my two favorite all-time Jets to this day. I still remember the $5 mini pitchers of domestic beer, a complete steal for 2 and a half glasses, and during the months of September and October, the $1.99 half-pound cheeseburgers. The kitchen staff always knew to give me some extra pickle chips. Of course, watching these games in a bar with 90 percent Bears fans and 9 percent Packers fans could get a little tough at times.
But around 2004, I heard about the Chicago Jets Fans group through Facebook. They met in Wrigleyville, on Clark St, at Rebel Bar, which is now known as Country Club, only about two blocks away from the “Friendly Confines.” But the commute was over an hour and trying to find a place to park, especially when baseball was being played proved to be challenging. So I would make the commute maybe two or three times a year. I remember being at Rebel for the joy when Mark Sanchez, Braylon Edwards, and Santonio Holmes led that furious final drive to beat Houston, and I remember the utter feeling of emptiness during the AFC Championship game in Pittsburgh as well as when the 2015 team lost to Rex Ryan and Buffalo to blow their opportunity at the playoffs. It was that day I knew Todd Bowles was not the head coach to lead the Jets to where I wanted to see them ultimately go, and that was to a Super Bowl.
In the summer of 2017, I moved to Newport News, VA, between Norfolk and Williamsburg, in the Hampton Roads/Tidewater region. I learned early that this is a very heavy military area, there are over 11 bases in this region. So people come here from all over the country; that gave me the idea that I might have a chance to meet some fellow NY/NY natives. And within weeks, I found the Virginia Jets Fans, also on Facebook. The group had been around since 1990, it was started by Stirling Fitzrandolph, a native Norfolk hippie who grew up an avid Jets fan thanks to who else, Joe Namath.
I guess they liked my energy and enthusiasm because halfway through the season, they asked me to start leading the Jets’ touchdown chants. At the end of the season, I was named the Fireman Ed award winner, the trophy still sits in my living room. For the first time, I had a group of friends to watch the games with. Oh, and for the first time in forever, I could yell at the TV and I wouldn’t be the only one yelling! In 2019, when Stirling moved to Florida, I was asked to be President, and I have held that position ever since.
Being a sports fan is best when done in a community, celebrating the triumphs and damning the frustrations. Ultimately the New York Jets fans are a beaten, loyal, tough fanbase that is starved for sustained success. And one day, I believe it will happen. Think of it this way, with every day that passes, we are one day closer to our next division title, one day closer to our next playoff game, one day closer to our second AFC championship, and…yes, I’m going there, one day closer to that elusive beautiful second Vince Lombardi trophy. Of course, we have no idea when those days are coming, but they are getting closer! And when it happens, all the pain we have suffered through will be worth it and we are going to celebrate it that much harder.
There is no such thing as a bandwagon Jets fan. We are all on this ride. Better days are coming. They really are.
Let’s Jet!