The Jets Keep Jetsing: Woody Johnson and His Family Have Ripped Players Right in the Locker Room, Including 'You Fucking Suck!'

Elsa. Getty Images.

It's truly a testament to the complete and utter dysfunctional goatfuck that is the New York Jets organization that the owner can be exposed as a meddlesome buffoon who takes his player personnel advice from the staff at EA Sports:

… and that's not the only news of the day. I mean, most blithering idiots who were lucky enough to be born into a Band Aids empire would get one good humiliation in and call it a day. But when you're the owner of the Jets, being a national laughingstock is a 24-hour job with no days off. 

By way of full disclosure, I had this little nugget all teed up and ready to post:

But I'm glad I waited. Because trading away the 256th pick in order to hold onto the 257th, thinking that the lower pick is where you find the Brock Purdys, is great blog material and all. But it's fingerling potatoes compared to this gem that also appeared in that same article in The Athletic. Which is behind a paywall, so here's the upshot from another source:

That last sentence is especially remarkable, because the Jets themselves are confirming this actually happened. So it wasn't some disgruntled player making stuff up. It wasn't someone mishearing the boss in a crowded room. This is what the trial lawyers call "a fair and accurate" description of what Johnson said. 

Think about that. You're the owner of a historically bad franchise. You're looking to hire your fifth head coach in the last 10 years. You fired your GM midseason. You're greatest hope was a 41-year-old quarterback who's been playing exactly like a 41-year-old quarterback. You probably shouldn't buy green bananas for the QB room because that guy won't be on your roster long enough to see them turn ripe. And the new regime will come in needing to overhaul the roster. 

And so how do you intend to attract the best and brightest coaches, player personnel department and free agents? Your new selling point is, "Come to the Jets and get told what a piece of shit you are in front of your teammates by the heir to a Baby Powder fortune! And just to sweeten the pot, his wife and snot-nosed Lucky Spermer sons!" Not even Tom Brady in his prime could encourage talented coaches and players to come to New York and put up with that. And Aaron Rodgers is no prime Tom Brady. 

Remember those stories earlier in the week about Bill Belichick "reaching out to the Jets"?

This is why I never blogged them. No matter how many reporters were repeating them or claiming they had sources confirming them. There simply is no cosmos in all of Schrodinger's multiverse in which Belichick would come work for a simp like Woody Johnson. He'd go live in a hollowed out tree in a forest somewhere like a Druid, dancing around playing the pan flute to the delight of his woodland friends the rest of his life before he'd be employed by an empty suit like that. Let us not forget he wouldn't even set foot in that locker room for the entertainment of NFL Films:

This latest round of Woody Johnson stories just confirm how right I was to not bother. And shows why the Jets will never be good again.