Monday Night Observations
Contemplating retirement, Aaron Rodgers spelunked deep into the recesses of his soul on an ayahuasca trip and emerged with a clear mind: he would play for the New York Jets.
Or at least that was the story. I knew at once something was off. Maybe he had overdosed. You never play out the string for the Jets. Then again he was guaranteed $75 million, and it was the Jets who ponied up $27M in guaranteed money for Le’Veon Bell’s carcass a few years ago, so who am I to calibrate Rodgers’ ayahuasca dose from the living room sofa?
I joke about Rodgers, who as you know is likely out for the year and perhaps done for good with a torn Achilles at age 39. Rodgers was an all-time great quarterback, Patrick Mahomes 1.0 at his peak, and a hero of mine for refusing to inject himself with pharmaceutical chemicals he did not want, despite intense pressure from the league and its media lackeys.
To remember what peak Rodgers looked like here are two consecutive plays from a playoff game against the Cardinals in 2016. (Youtube won’t let me embed this clip, but the link is worth clicking.)
In any event to lose Rodgers four plays into the year is so quintessentially Jets the way blowing a lead in the closing minutes is so Chargers. The personnel and coaching might change, but sometimes a franchise’s core identity stays ever the same.
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