Tampertainment II: The Jetsening

I am in awe of the awfulness of the first 48 hours of the Jets offseason.

The Jets have found a new status that transcends tanking or trolling. The Jets are torture incarnate. They’re auto-erotic asphyxiation without the “erotic.” Medieval flagellants would advise them to take it easy on themselves.

This isn’t just about Tuesday’s Geno Smith trade, though it’s mostly about Tuesday’s Geno Smith trade.

It takes a profound lack of institutional dignity to bring back a player on his last legs whose career redemption arc involves his triumph over having been drafted by you. The Jets are like the kid who still ate his own boogers in high school showing up for his 25-year class reunion, still eating boogers. Geno grew up, then grew old. The Jets stayed the Jets.

To briefly address any internet theories that the 35-year old Smith still has something left in the tank but was a victim of circumstance in Las Vegas: the Seahawks replaced Smith with Sam Darnold last year, made minimal other changes, and catapulted from 10-7 to one of the greatest teams in Super Bowl history. So spare me any discussion of Chip Kelly calling mystery plays. The Raiders were terrible, and Geno – an aging journeyman who had been in steady decline since his 2022 Frampton Comes Alive! season – was right where he belonged.

But again, Jets masochism is about more than just Geno Smith.