Paget: From the 'Jet-Tax' to a 'Discount Double Check,' it's time to just appreciate the moment
It's game day, and Aaron Rodgers is the New York Jets' starting quarterback
My very first Jets memories are of the brief Brett Favre era. They’re faint, but I certainly remember running around in my No. 87 Laveranues Coles jersey.
My first real Jets memories are from what I’ve come to know as the glory days. I remember the playoff wins — well, at least the watch parties — over the Bengals and Chargers in 2009. Looking back on 2010, I have strangely vivid memories of Santonio Holmes’ walk-off touchdown in Cleveland, and, of course, I remember the sting of the loss in the AFC Championship game in Pittsburgh.
From then on there are plenty of memories, but those from the last 12 seasons I spend more time trying to forget than anything else. Unfortunately, my recall is quite strong.
I remember exactly where I was standing when Mark Sanchez collided with Brandon Moore’s butt. I remember lying in bed and scrolling through my iPod touch only to find out the Jets had traded for Tim Tebow. I remember watching Michael Vick start three games for the Jets. I remember receiving the push notification about IK Enemkpali’s locker-room sucker punch to Geno Smith’s jaw.
And, of course, instead of soaking up what proved to be the only moment from this period worth remembering — Eric Decker’s game-winning touchdown against the Patriots — I remember opting to miss the second half of the game to go to see Daddy’s Home at the Berkshire Mall in Lanesborough, Massachusetts.
I’ve already rehashed much of the story of the post-Fitzpatrick era and, well, there are not many moments worth reminiscing about. So I’ll keep this brief, but I can’t help myself.
There was a Josh McCown and Bryce Petty year. A promising, 48-point debut for Sam Darnold following a career-opening pick-six. And then there was a hodgepodge of Darnold, Luke Falk, Joe Flacco, Zach Wilson and some more Flacco. And you knew I was going to at least mention the Mike White love affair.
Yet those are just the moments I’ve seen on-screen. I haven’t even brought up the fact that aside from seeing Sanchez, Darnold, Wilson and White in-person, I’ve also seen Josh Johnson, whose performance (300 yards, 3 touchdowns) ranks as the best Jets quarterback display I’ve seen live. That becomes less of a shock once you learn that I was part of the chorus of boos that drove both Sanchez and Wilson to the bench and a participant in the standing ovations given to their heroic replacements: Greg McElroy and Chris Streveler. Yes, I was at both of those games.
On Monday, though, there shouldn’t be quite as many boos. Because Daddy’s Home. And I surely won’t regret going to see it in theaters.
This time, I’ll see Aaron Rodgers. And hopefully just Aaron Rodgers. Not in green and yellow. But in green and white.
Nostalgia aside, the Jets’ sudden ascent has been rather remarkable. Despite owning the longest playoff drought in professional sports, New York’s roster is talented to the point that it is a legitimate Super Bowl contender. Perhaps the strongest evidence of this is the reality that Florham Park, New Jersey has become a destination.
Gone are the days of the Jets being hampered by two separate taxes: the “Jet-Tax” in addition to the already-burdensome state tax. In fact, 2023 has even brought tax deductions — record-setting ones of upwards of $30 million in the case of Rodgers — to don the ugly “Gotham Green” jerseys. Chalk that one up as a “Discount Double Check.” And one of many. Others such as Dalvin Cook, Al Woods and Adrian Amos are also playing for New York at a bargain in hopes of winning the Super Bowl.
Am I dreaming?
As the naysayers will interject, the Jets have done nothing yet. And that is correct. The curse that Joe Namath seemingly put on this franchise hasn’t gone anywhere. The “Same Old Jets” stench lingers. The 2023 flight may not go according to plan.
Rodgers could turn back the clock in the sense that we see vintage No. 8, or we could see him diagnosed with mononucleosis after a devastating loss to the Bills à la 2019. The injury bug could bite yet again. The Nathaniel Hackett experiment could go horribly wrong. It’s still the Jets, so the potential for disaster is significant. A crash landing could very well be on the horizon.
But for that reason, it’s time to appreciate the moment. This moment. The last one of calm — or perhaps nausea — before the chaos that is this 18-week, hopefully-longer storm.
Because the most-highly anticipated Jets game in more than a decade is here, and at this rate, I’ll have children of my own by the time a season with such excitement and hope rolls around.
So on Monday, when Aaron Rodgers runs out of that tunnel for the first time at “JetLife” Stadium, there’s only one thing left to do: appreciate it.
Remember it.