Kick us while we’re down. Laugh it up while you can. Don’t pull your punches.
Really. We can take it. Sticks and stones, baby, sticks and stones.
We’ve heard all the jokes by now, listened to the endless criticism, been bombarded by questions about our coaching staff, our players, our very heart.
Been there, done that.
And truthfully, what team hasn’t been subjected to the same kind of browbeating scrutiny when it was drowning in abysmal failure? It gives new meaning to the phrase “under the microscope.” You can’t breathe or take a single step without someone analyzing your every move, questioning your every decision.
But that’s the beauty of football – any team sport, for that matter – rising up like the mythical phoenix to build something out of nothing, turning it into a dynasty, falling from grace after years of dominance and having to start anew once again.
And so it goes for the winless New York Giants. Painfully and methodically. Week after week.
I’ve been a devoted fan approaching 25 years now, and I’ve seen the cycle repeat itself more than once. You have to take the bad with the good. The waiting part sucks, I won’t lie. But you have to keep believing, you have to keep hoping, you have to keep cheering. The fiery phoenix that is New York is a thing of beauty every time it is reborn.
Sure, it’s frustrating to watch loss after loss. But I don’t love the Giants any less. If anything, I love them MORE.
Why, you ask?
It’s the struggle to attain greatness, the cohesion of so many different personalities and talents, the sacrifice required to rise above everyone and everything that make this game so special, that make us love our teams on a level that, frankly, non-fans never would, or could, understand.
I’m about as rabid as a fan gets. I will cuss, yell, plead, throw stuff, pace, stomp my feet, cover my eyes – you name it, I’ve done it. It’s not a pretty sight, but it’s part of who I am – win or lose, good or bad, pretty or ugly. Just like my Giants.
OK, so we’re 0-6 after a tough 27-21 loss to the Chicago Bears on Thursday night. Rub it in, make fun of us all you want. History shows that we learn from our mistakes. Eventually, albeit, but we do learn.
This downward spiral will cease sooner or later. It’s only temporary. I know that as sure as my heart beats. But right now, we’ve taken up residence in the cellar of the NFL seemingly with no means of escape. Don’t you fret, though. We’ll fight our way back to the top and resurface when you least expect it. We always do.
Just you wait and see.