Sometimes I like to begin an article with an allegory. Reference some movie line, or quote a Shakespearean soliloquy, tie it into my topic and go on to make my argument. Searching my iTunes library in an attempt to do that today, though, I struggled to find something appropriate.
Don’t Stop Believing, Keep Hope Alive, No Surrender, Won’t Back Down, Dreams, Reason to Believe, Ooh Child (things are going to get easier), Don’t Stop (thinking about tomorrow).
It was like Steve Jobs was trolling me from the great beyond.
Or maybe I was still clinging to hope, because once I opened myself up to it, I found plenty of suitable options.
Let it Be, While My Guitar Gently Weeps, Helpless, Lie in Our Graves, Dreaming With a Broken Heart, Heartache Tonight, The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down, Sorrow Man, Hopeless Wanderer.
This last one, I think, fits best – Murder in the City seemed a touch extreme even for days like these. Because while there are many emotions on a day like today – seething anger, resigned exasperation, guilt-laced relief that we can finally stop evaluating playoff hopes and checking scoreboards – the most prevalent, I think, is a sort of bewilderment. A dazed confusion wondering how we got here, and what the hell we do now.
I guess, in reality, we already know how we got here. Turnovers, suspect quarterback play from a two-time Super Bowl MVP, inconsistent secondary/offensive line play, penalties, fooling around on the course, bad language, smoking grass…poor caddying.
The question, then, is, in all seriousness, what the hell do we do now?
By my calculations, the Giants have three games left in the 2014 season. I’m 25. I don’t remember watching the Giants with literally nothing on the line. I was prepubescent during the Danny Kanell/Kent Graham days. I didn’t even know what playoff contention meant. I watched until my Dad told me there were no more games.
So what’s the protocol, here?
Do I have to put on my GM hat and evaluate talent until season’s end? Start breaking down college tape and planning for the draft?
Do I even still have to watch? Can I just move right on to Ranger season? Maybe start breaking down the Olympic Curling scene so I know what’s hot come February?
Can I just pick a new NFL team for the rest of the year? How would that work? Do I exercise my personal conscience? Or do I have to put the other 31 teams on a wheel of destiny and hope I avoid the whammy – clearly the Browns and the Jaguars?
I’m not being glib, I’m seriously asking. I need a Browns, or a Jaguars, or a Jets fan to tell me what to do. Right now I’m leaning toward a yes and a no on the latter two scenarios above. Yes I have to watch. I have to suffer through every pitiful moment. I have to experience and internalize it. I have to remember it, so that some hopefully forthcoming triumph will be made that much sweeter. And no, I’m not allowed to adopt a new team for the rest of the year. I chose the Giants in my youth; are fortunes are tied to one another through death, contraction, or franchise relocation.
I have to try and Let it Be, I guess, while both my my guitar and I gently weep, and while the helpless 2013 Giants effectively lie in their figurative graves for three games – able to do little more than dream with their broken hearts of a season that doesn’t end with a heartache tonight like it’s the one in which they drove Old Dixie down. One that wouldn’t leaving behind it such a wake of sorrow men and helpless wanderers.
Shit. Is this what it feels like to be Jaguars and Browns and Jets fans? How are their any left?
Fuck it. I’m adopting the Broncos. If I can root for one Manning I can root the other.
Author: Joe Bianchino
Joe Bianchino is a writer, producer, and radio host located in upstate New York. He is a life-long New York sport fan, Chelsea supporter, and Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon enthusiast. Follow him on Twitter @JoeBNTS. Email him at Joe@noticketsports.com.