The Handling of - and Reaction to - Zach Wilson's Injury Update is Classic GD Jets
If you've never been to a Catholic Mass before, allow me to introduce you to a major theme of them:
Sin.
In fact, every Mass begins with "Let us all take a moment, bow our heads in prayer, and call to mind our own sinfulness." The rest is more or less centered around what we have to do to be forgiven for it.
Needless to say, I've got gigabytes of sin data to call to mind. And since Mass has to be kept to under an hour so they can clear the parking lot and hustle the next group in, there's not nearly enough time for details. So I have reduce mine to just the PowerPoint slides. And one I've been overlooking, but now need to add a bullet point for, is illustrated above.
I confess. Lord help me, how I do enjoy wallowing in the misery of the New York Jets and the suffering of their long-suffering fans. It's wrong, I know. I'm not sure why exactly it brings me so much joy. Just that it never ceases to entertain me.
To be clear, I'm not happy Zach Wilson is hurt. Rooting for injuries is worse than simply bad karma. It's loserthink. You want to beat the opposition's best, and all that. I mean, think about how diminished celebrated Jets QB moments like Mark Sanchez's Buttfumble, Geno Smith getting punched out by a teammate over a poker debt, or Sam Darnold seeing ghosts would've been if they'd happened to a 37 year old backup like Joe Flacco. No one wants that.
What all us failed, imperfect people take so much pleasure in is the way the Jets have handled it. Giving their fans on false hope:
Letting them believe he'd be ready for the start of the season. Then waiting until the last minute (read: after 99% of Fantasy drafts have already happened) to trot Robert Saleh out to crush those hopes with the bad news. A tactic that was not lost on the New York football media:
Or the runners of some of the team's most dedicated fan sites:
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I love it so. I'm going to try to do better. I owe it to myself and to my Creator to be better. It's just so hard when they make it so entertaining, year after year after failed year. I've said it before and I'll say it until it stops being true. If the New York Jets didn't exist, I'd have had to invent them.
Buy a sweatshirt: