Jet fans

[bulworth]

Originally Posted by pogophiles

Let's see if I'm starting to think like a Jets fan. Is the answer to #3 Scott Norwood?

DING, DING, DING!

The day I will never forget. January 27, 1991. The longest day of my life. For years afterwards, I would be lost in a dark spiral of self-abuse, careening from one dark alley to the next, all the whilereplaying the attempt over and over again. Why couldn't it be good! Why couldn't that bastard find the space between the uprights, the promised land that contained my salvation. Over and over again I would relive the tension of the moment, see the pathetic little Giants along the sidelines holding hands and praying against their imminent doom. The whole season with all its hopes and dreams had boiled down to this one delicious moment with a team, an entire organization laying naked and vulnerable; the whole Giant nation bent over, their fetid cornholes exposed to the world and all its attendant misery, and one man had the power: Scott Norwood. With one kick he could usurp the great Herman Edwards and step into the role of messiah, delivering true Jet fans into a nirvana that would last a lifetime. It would be known as simply, "the Kick". The one that turned the stomachs of Giant fans forever, emasculating them over and over again. The one that would make them all wish that they were dying of ass cancer, or worse instead. Grown men collapsing in defeat, little Boy Blue come blow my horn, Scott Norwood's iron boot stuck fast in their corn; but no. None of it was to be. At the last he delivered them from their fate with a miss that I have never truly recovered from. Oh, I'm beter now, much better for sure.......the meds are way down, I'm allowed unsupervised visits with loved ones, and I haven't attacked a Giants fan in years, although not all of the lawsuits pending have been resolved......but my life will never ever truly be all that it could have been because of Scott Norwood.