Tweet
Changing of the Guard.
The crowd roars...
There is a non-stop, never going to quit vibration coming from the very air surrounding the field of battle.
Bodies, pushed to the point of exhaustion march on towards their enemies as if driven by much more than the time left on the clock.
The blue and red trail the gang green host by a mere field goal. Those three points weigh heavy on the minds of those blue collar faithful who stand witness to opening weekend in all it's glory.
Three points...
Three points is all that's need to tie the team that's plagued them for what seems like an eternity. The longest current losing streak to a hated rival who even now mocks the visitors relentlessly.
J-E-T-S JETS! JETS JETS!
Will it ever stop? The arrogance filtering down from the nosebleeds and into the ears of the boys and blue who continue to battle on.
Then, a chance. One play to change the tide, to make the push, to alter the future and to erase the past.
Time's running out....
It's third down. The cocky young gun saunters to the line of scrimmage confident in his ability to lead the popular choice (but not the people's choice) to certain victory.
The snap...
Six drops back to pass, looking for the final distance that could seal his foe's fate and erase the doubt in his supporters' eyes.
One step....
Two step...
Wait...
Something isn't right. An uprising. A young warrior splits through the interior defenses and barrels towards the field general with un-matched ferocity while on the perimeter, the newcomer rips through the outer guard.
The pocket is closing...
Panic sets in, the man must make a decision but he can't think. The world is blank. There is only fear.
The crowd is silent...
For the newcomer, swift reward is coming. He hears only the beating of his own heart, the heaviness of his breath and the steps of his prey.
Closing in...
The pocket is collapsing and then, contact.
A crushing blow from multiple sides. The man in green tries to throw and gets the ball off just in time.
Sailing.
The ball is sailing through the air but something isn't right. The young one in green isn't moving but the ball is. Sailing. Something isn't right.
Time has slowed down...
That's when, a break. It's a rookie... A talented but young ace who makes a break on the ball. He sees his moment and strikes. A leap from nowhere, he snags the reward from it's floating prison and bursts free into time and space.
Time has sped up.
To the right... A miss.
Back left... A miss.
A block!
Keep running...
Hope springs into the heart of the blue garbed witnesses surging, CHARGING.
20....
10....
5.....
Victory.
The crowd awakens...
A new chant begins. One filled not with arrogance or victory, confidence or pride. But with anger, hatred and change.
Amidst the boos and taunts a light rumble builds in the throats of the many.
TE-BOW. TE-BOW. TE-BOW! TE-BOW!
It's a sign.
The fall of one era and the rise of another.
The changing of the guard in an otherwise un-changed division. One step closer to glory and one step closer to reviving a franchise hellbent on changing their culture.
It al starts here.
CHANGE THE GUARD. F*** the Jets.
-MEH.
There is a non-stop, never going to quit vibration coming from the very air surrounding the field of battle.
Bodies, pushed to the point of exhaustion march on towards their enemies as if driven by much more than the time left on the clock.
The blue and red trail the gang green host by a mere field goal. Those three points weigh heavy on the minds of those blue collar faithful who stand witness to opening weekend in all it's glory.
Three points...
Three points is all that's need to tie the team that's plagued them for what seems like an eternity. The longest current losing streak to a hated rival who even now mocks the visitors relentlessly.
J-E-T-S JETS! JETS JETS!
Will it ever stop? The arrogance filtering down from the nosebleeds and into the ears of the boys and blue who continue to battle on.
Then, a chance. One play to change the tide, to make the push, to alter the future and to erase the past.
Time's running out....
It's third down. The cocky young gun saunters to the line of scrimmage confident in his ability to lead the popular choice (but not the people's choice) to certain victory.
The snap...
Six drops back to pass, looking for the final distance that could seal his foe's fate and erase the doubt in his supporters' eyes.
One step....
Two step...
Wait...
Something isn't right. An uprising. A young warrior splits through the interior defenses and barrels towards the field general with un-matched ferocity while on the perimeter, the newcomer rips through the outer guard.
The pocket is closing...
Panic sets in, the man must make a decision but he can't think. The world is blank. There is only fear.
The crowd is silent...
For the newcomer, swift reward is coming. He hears only the beating of his own heart, the heaviness of his breath and the steps of his prey.
Closing in...
The pocket is collapsing and then, contact.
A crushing blow from multiple sides. The man in green tries to throw and gets the ball off just in time.
Sailing.
The ball is sailing through the air but something isn't right. The young one in green isn't moving but the ball is. Sailing. Something isn't right.
Time has slowed down...
That's when, a break. It's a rookie... A talented but young ace who makes a break on the ball. He sees his moment and strikes. A leap from nowhere, he snags the reward from it's floating prison and bursts free into time and space.
Time has sped up.
To the right... A miss.
Back left... A miss.
A block!
Keep running...
Hope springs into the heart of the blue garbed witnesses surging, CHARGING.
20....
10....
5.....
Victory.
The crowd awakens...
A new chant begins. One filled not with arrogance or victory, confidence or pride. But with anger, hatred and change.
Amidst the boos and taunts a light rumble builds in the throats of the many.
TE-BOW. TE-BOW. TE-BOW! TE-BOW!
It's a sign.
The fall of one era and the rise of another.
The changing of the guard in an otherwise un-changed division. One step closer to glory and one step closer to reviving a franchise hellbent on changing their culture.
It al starts here.
CHANGE THE GUARD. F*** the Jets.
-MEH.
Comment