In a New York state of mind

Hello, my name is Kevin, and I have a secret I must share with the general public. I'm a Jets fan. It is my secret shame, to root for a team whose greatest player drunkenly hit on an ESPN sideline reporter; to root for a team which finds new and innovative ways to screw up each year; to root for a team whose lone notable accomplishment came when the Beatles were still producing original music as a group. Tonight, I'll watch the Jets play arguably their most important regular-season game since 2002, against the hated New England Patriots. The winner will take control of the AFC East with six games left and get on the inside track to a home game in the playoffs. Of course, the Jets will no doubt lose tonight in spectacular fashion. I could see the Patriots shut down the Jets' mediocre offense; I could see Randy Moss acting like he still cares and catch a dozen passes; I could even see Brett Favre throwing eight interceptions on seven passes (he'll find a way). Now don't get me wrong - I want the Jets to win. And, being a Jets fan, I will flip you the bird if you try to argue the exact same thing. That's just the way we are. The Jets are simply doomed to failure in everything they do: -Anyone who's watched the NFL Draft recently has seen the video of Jets' draft blunders, including my favorite: "With the 14th pick, the Jets select Kyle Brady, tight end[!] from Penn State." In the background, fans are chanting "We want Sapp!" That would be Warren Sapp. Sigh. -Brooks Bollinger. Ray Lucas. Rick Mirer. Glenn Foley. Quincy Carter. The 67-year-old version of Vinny Testeverde. These men have all started games at quarterback for the Jets in the last 10 years. It makes one appreciate that Brett Favre might occasionally throw a touchdown or two to offset his interceptions. Even when there's been fleeting success, it usually ends in crushing playoff defeats that even Cleveland Browns fans would wince at: -1983: After Don Shula lets a huge rainstorm turn Dolphin Stadium into mush to slow down the Jets' high-flying passing attack, Miami beats New York 14-0 in the AFC Championship game. -1987: The Jets blow a 10-point fourth-quarter lead and lose to Cleveland in double overtime in the AFC Divisional round. -1999: Testeverde outplays John Elway for a half in the AFC Championship game, and the Jets lead 10-0 in the third quarter. Then Elway, perhaps after practicing throwing a Vortex out of the stadium, wakes up and leads Denver to a 23-10 win.

-2002: A week after hitting a dramatic 51-yard field goal to beat Oakland and qualify for the playoffs, the Jets return to the Bay Area … and get smacked down by the Raiders, 38-24.

-2005: This one still hurts. Doug Brien misses a field goal at the end of regulation, and then another in overtime. The Steelers advance to the AFC title game, beating one of the Jets' better teams, 20-17. Screw you, Doug Brien.

My point is that, even as a fairly rational fan of the team, the Jets have no chance tonight. It's as if they are climbing Everest, only they get stuck and freeze to death. And then Bill Belichick steals the plans to get to the summit. It's a complicated simile.

Now, I don't want non-Jets fans (or worse, Giants fans) to feel any sympathy. In fact, I'll assemble the mob, pitchforks and all, if you even try to tell me the Jets aren't playoff-bound and locks for Super Bowl XLIII. I hear Stevie's Pitchforks And Things on Route 3 in Moonachie is great for that type of thing.

The Jets aren't the worst franchise in the NFL. They've been on-and-off competitive for 11 years, and were playoff regulars in the 1980s. It would be worse to be a Lions or Bengals fan, as those folks have never (except in 2005, for Cincinnati) even had a chance to appreciate watching a good team fail when it counts.

But the Jets have trained their faithful fans to be pessimists. And nearly as vulgar as Philadelphia fans, but that's a different story.

Luckily, that means that I won't feel so bad when the Jets do their thing tomorrow night and for the rest of the season. It'll just be another mediocre season in a 40-year string of them. I'll still be watching every Sunday, but I won't have any of those fun, happy expectations.

And if they happen to win? Oh, well then, you all better recognize the future Super Bowl champs.