When one devotes enough of his life to following sports, he allows himself to accept certain repeated truths as fact. For example, when the Mets had Kevin McReynolds in the late 1980s, he quickly earned the reputation as a lazy, indifferent player. Hence, when people asked me about McReynolds during my youth, I’d say, “Well, he’s talented, but he’s unmotivated.” Another example: Chad Pennington supposedly has a weak arm. I’ve seen him throw 60-yard bombs that impressed me, but, hey, everyone said his arm stunk. “His arm stinks,” I’d say.
When the Jets acquired Braylon Edwards from the Cleveland Browns earlier this year, everyone here in New York heard that he struggled holding onto balls. As a group, however, we chose not to listen. Edwards, after all, was a game breaker. Our latest Wesley Walker; our latest Al Toon; our latest Keyshawn Johnson. He could run like lightning, swoop over defenders, burst into end zones. Finally, the J-E-T-S had someone to play opposite Jerricho Cotchery. To make the offense complete.
Egad.
This evening I loved watching the Jets (the only team I root for anymore) have their way with Cincinnati. It was Mark Sanchez’s best professional game, Thomas Jones and Shonn Green were spectacular and the defense, as always, rose up. Yet to see Braylon Edwards in action is to pull one’s hair out, again and again and again. I’ve seen Edwards interviewed on multiple occasions, and he seems like a decent, well-intentioned guy. But—and this is a HUGE but—the man cannot catch. Literally, he lacks the ability to hold on to the football. And, for Jets fans, it’s torture—some sick version of Lam Jones II: Electric Boogaloo.
To me, Bryalon Edwards serves as verification that, quite often, rumor is more than rumor. That if people repeatedly say, “So and so stinks,” So and so might actually stink.
Well, I wanted to get that off my chest. At least the Jets won.
