By Jason Klein
As Seen in In New York Magazine – 2/3/12
Wait, there’s a game this Sunday? Who knew?
OK, I admit it; I’ll watch the Super Bowl.
I don’t want to, but I will.
Let me explain. This native New Yorker has the fanatical misfortune of rooting for the wrong team in town. As a Jets fan, I admit that my allegiance is misguided. I’ve accepted my role as a second-class citizen within New York’s football fandom.
Over the years, I’ve watched Jets teams lose games, seasons, and their minds in ways that would make the Bad News Bears blush. I’ve witnessed Super Bowl dreams, seemingly within reach, decimated by injury, ignorance, and ineptitude. This franchise is a bigger tease than a Kardashian.
Kermit the Frog had it right: It’s not easy being green.
Despite my eternal pessimism, I continue to passionately support them and hold out hope that one day, my Super dream of a championship might be a reality.
Until then, I’ll watch other teams compete for a Lombardi Trophy each February. On Sunday, I have the distinct displeasure of watching New York’s more successful team, the Giants, battle the Jets’ biggest rival, the New England Patriots, for a Super Bowl Title.
It’s like being forced to watch your school’s bully and most popular kid fight to the death over the girl you have been chasing your whole life.
Yeah, I’m bitter.
I don’t dislike either team. I really don’t. I respect what the Giants and Patriots have accomplished this season, and in previous campaigns. Yet, the perennial dysfunction that seems to infect Jets seasons past and present leaves me green with envy over the successes of my team’s two biggest rivals.
Even Jets Pro Bowl Center, Nick Mangold admits, “No matter who wins the game, it’s going to be a bad outcome for us as players and for the fans.”
It’s my obligation as a football fan to watch the Super Bowl. I get it. I’ll be more interested in the wings and beer than the game itself, but yes, I’ll watch it.
The cathartic viewing will tweak my pigskin inferiority complex, but ultimately build character. When it’s over, I’ll emotionally hit the reset button, and await a new beginning in 2012.
There’s always next season. The optimistic cliché represents all that is great about sports. Especially in the NFL, a league predicated on parody.
Before that new beginning, there must be an end.
Apparently, the Giants and Patriots will do the honors on Sunday.
At least that’s the rumor.
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