Much like real life, there are certain sports franchises that are simply below average. Despite their best efforts to avoid who they are, their identity shines through the window of the short bus that they ride and sheds light on the inner window-licking child within. One such franchise is the New York Jets. How do they suck? Well let us count the ways.

They Aren’t Even From New York

I feel like this is the humongous elephant in the room every time someone discusses the Jets. They play in East Rutherford, New Jersey. In other words, they are from a different (and shittier) state than New York. They are from the state that New Yorkers send all of their trash to. Which, I suppose if you think about it, makes a shit ton of sense for them to do so, given their sad state of being.

Nonetheless, how bad off do you have to be that New Jersey wants no part in claiming you? The state that proudly birthed the Nets, Snooki and Joe Piscobo, would rather hide in the closet than admit that your team is from the same state as Tara Reid. That is a new level of embarrassment right there.

And to further hammer the point home, the stadium that your tired ass team has played in for decades, doesn’t even bear your name. The Jets play in Giants Stadium. Another team with an identity crisis, yes. But at least Jersey allows them to have a stadium with their name on it. The Jets are like the red headed step child that is allowed to sleep inside, but only on the floor and they have to share the blanket with the family dog. Which is exactly where this pathetic excuse for a football team belongs.

Their Fans are D-U-M-B DUMB DUMB DUMB!

It is bad enough that the team itself is terrible, but the fans are somehow worse. I suppose it shouldn’t surprise us that a heaping pile of shit attracts a bunch of disease ridden flies. These ass clowns convince themselves each and every year that somehow they are the team to beat. Which, is exactly what everyone goes out and does.

Honestly folks this team as a franchise has compiled a staggering win-loss record of 340-408. Since I know the Jet fans have a hard time with math, that is a .454 winning percentage. And since you don’t know what percentage means, I will just let you know that they lose more often than they win. A lot. And in sports, much like gambling, the more you lose, the less successful you are.

Granted, your team did win a Super Bowl, but that was in 1968. Since then, this “storied” franchise has been to the playoffs exactly 12 times. Oh, and they have failed to reach the Super Bowl since they were in the AFL. In other words, any Jets fan that thinks their team is going to the dance this season (or any season) is pretty much admitting that they failed history in high school and should probably be banned from breeding. But should we expect anything different? After all, these are the same fans that, when faced with spelling their own team’s name on national television, failed miserably, much like the team they love so dear.

Their Coach Is Still Fat

Rex Ryan will never be considered skinny. But when you lose gobs of weight and still have to shop at the husky department of the big and tall store, you have yourself a serious fat ass. The kind of fat ass that chalks it up to a glandular problem and then gives up. The kind of fat ass who looks for any cheap way possible to lose weight, including cutting off his stomach with a rubber band. The kind of fat ass that still looks like John Elway after being stung by 1,000 bees.

Which means he is a perfect fit for the Jets. After all, hard work and dedication are tough things to do. Why not just give up and wait for someone else to figure it out for you? This attitude of Ryan’s has already permeated down to his players who did exactly the same thing in order to get into the 2009 playoffs. They didn’t earn it, it was given to them. The very same philosophy that Rex Ryan uses at the dinner table, has been passed on to his players (“gimme it”).

The pacaderm-ish fellow has even taken on the identity of its fan base in a sort of quid pro quo sense. In between chocking down a stack of hippo ribs and sticking a fork in a giraffe’s ass, the tubby blowhard has been bellowing to anyone who will listen that his team of lazy, underachieving fucknuts are winning the Super Bowl. Apparently stupidity is contagious.

I suppose I should end this here. That is not to say that these are the only reasons why the Jets suck pond water, but at some point, it is just piling on for the sake of piling on. I mean, I didn’t even get to the fact that their quarterbacks consist of guys who wear pantyhose, whose last name translates to “green balls,” a legend who turned into a big ball of suck in his only year there, another one who wears pantyhose, and a dork named “Boomer.”

We also didn’t tackle the issue of their horrid draft picks throughout time. A tradition that lives today inside of the cold belly of Vernon Gholston. A tradition that continues to give hope to Patriots, Bills and Dolphins  fans everywhere that they will indeed, be the Same Ol’ Jets.

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