But some days … some days when you’re not even looking for it … when you’re just fact-checking an astute article on running backs, you wind up making potato salad out of potatoes, and it brings you pure joy because it turns out to be the best motherhumping potato salad you’ve ever had.
Today was that day, fellow Jets fans … hell, and Jets haters!
Today, I went to Wikipedia to see when Adam Gase stopped being interim GM, and what I found instead is quite possibly the greatest summation of his tenure with the New York Football Jets that has ever or could ever exist. Hemingway couldn’t phrase it any better:
And yes, dear reader, the links to potato and potato salad were included for your rabbit-hole pleasure. And no, dear reader, the person who put that up was not me, nor anyone else here at The Deadspins. In fact, if it was you, call us, we’re hiring.
Sadly, as is usually the case in Jetsland, it’s gone now. Taken down by an overworked moderator who is obviously not a Jets fan and did not take the short time necessary to figure out any of the many valid sources that could back up that claim. But fear not, a new turn of phrase will be up soon in its place. Don’t believe me? Here are a few of the other lowlights posted to (and deleted from) Gase’s Wiki recently:
“He is mostly known for his crackhead press conference and ruining promising QB Sam Darnold. He is the worst head coach in the history of the game and should get fired immediately.”
“He is labeled as an offensive genius; but as we have found out during his tenure as a head coach that that was indeed, a terrible evaluation and whoever said he was an offensive genius should be jailed immediately.”
“Adam Edwards Smith Clyde Johnson Chris Yosemite Gase Quintorez … is an American football coach who is the head coach of the Bad News Bears of the PeeWee 14U Baseball Team (PWBT). He stands at 3 feet, and 4 inches tall, and weighs 782 pounds.”
Those are all fine, but not poetry. Like pornography, you may not be able to define poetry, but you know when you see it. This poetic imagery ... I could not ever unsee it again. Thank you, Wikipedia, for broadening my horizons.
(Of note, I’ve donated $5/month for years to the Wikimedia Foundation because I use it daily and it’s an “amazing human achievement,” as fellow Deadspin editor Chris Baud just put in our Slack channel. It truly is, and it deserves all of our support, even if you can’t 100% rely on its content; See: This entire story. Soapbox away.)
Now, then, as I pondered the facts laid out before me on the intertubes, I wondered if I could actually make an argument for Gase over a potato. I wondered if it mattered whether it were something as benign as an Idaho Russet, or as insidious as a sweet potato. I decided no, it didn’t matter, because the poster of the comment did not specify, therefore it was not germane to the case.
So how would a potato make potato salad? Would it sacrifice itself by jumping into a pot of boiling water? Or perhaps ask a carrot to do the deed, a la Rocky asking Mick to “cut me.” Would the potato have made the dressing part in advance? That alone would make its case for being a better in-game manager.
And with that realization, I brought my gavel down and decided to endorse a potato as the “next HC of the NYJ.”
What can I say?
[Don’t say it!]
I mean …
[Please for the love of God, don’t say it!]
The eyes had it.
Hell, I had already been calling for Gase’s head long before the team’s latest loss where they fell to 0-5. It took a throwaway temporary edit to his Wiki page to really cement the idea that the team is indeed ready for its new look. My fandom of all things Jetsian, now into its 36th season, still falls 15 years short of having seen my team in a Super Bowl, much less winning one. How big of a fan am I? I once willingly chose to drive to Cleveland for a Jets game in November 2004. That sounded fun to me. A 10-7 win over a team that would finish with four wins that season.
Have I had some good times? Oh, sure — I was at the OT win in San Diego in January 2005, and we came close to Super glory a few times in the Rex Ryan era, shockingly. Those AFC Championship losses were agonizing, but never until today did it dawn on me to think that maybe the right fingerling could have spudded, err spurred, us to victory.
I no longer consider a potato head coach a half-baked idea.
[Ed. note: Dad jokes & puns forever.]