McElroy lands the Jets: post game thoughts

It was a stirring win for the Jets in the Meadowlands Sunday, and all because the team's head coach defied his heart and went with his gut. In hindsight, that Rex Ryan favoring his belly can hardly been viewed as shocking.

But the Ryan-Mark Sanchez bromance was relegated against the Arizona Cardinals because losing to the only NFL team that might be better off without one of its three quarterbacks in the line-up, was surely the impetus New York fans needed to swap the paper bags on their head for air-tight plastic ones. Thankfully, Greg McElroy led the squad to a winning touchdown, and Fireman Ed was not called in to handle a potential crisis.

Needless to say, words have been minced since the Jets 7-6 victory. Feelings have been hurt, and allegiances betrayed. So to help clear the air from inside the Jets locker room---an arduous task after Nick Mangold hits the stalls---we help read between the lines of the post-game.

Greg McElroy

Said: "It was fun. We were having a good time. It was exciting to get a shot and go in there."

But thought: "I literally wet my pants on the way to the huddle. Luckily I'd had about three liters of Gatorade so it was green, and the guys thought I just spilled some."

Said: "It's tough to kind of gauge the energy. Obviously, I didn't have, like, a decibel meter where I could tell what the crowd noise was."

But thought: "I posted a Facebook photo of me behind center just before the first snap. I wrote, 'About to hike the ball at MetLife. OMG is it loud in here! It must be 130 decibels. Does anyone know how to beat cover 2?'"

Rex Ryan

Said: "It's just something that I sensed, that I felt. When you're around this game long enough, you get that feeling that, 'You know what? I've seen enough, and it's time to make that change.'"

But thought: "I believed the vest was not only stylish, but thinning. Then one of the cheerleaders pulled me aside and set me straight. She told me vests are for guys like Zac Efron, Roger Federer, and that slimy kid from Gossip Girl. So I made the call---skivvy or bust."

Said: "I'll let you guys know who's going to be the quarterback when I'm ready to."

But thought: "Right now I got a burn from a third-quarter hot dog, so I see your lips moving but the words are like a dull murmur. Anymore questions? Thought not. I'm out."

Mark Sanchez

Said: "I'm really happy for the team, and really happy for Greg. He came in and played his butt off."

But thought: "I considered taking a swing. But this is New York. Greg's Irish. A good looking Mexican kid from Long Beach who gets any woman he wants...nobody's ever in that guy's corner."

Eat, Pray, Tebow

Tim Tebow eats up a challenge, prays on the sideline, and loves the spotlight. In summary, he's the Julia Roberts of the NFL. Maybe not as leggy.

It's a familiar tale: a pilgrimage of self-discovery transpiring amid confusion and controversy. None of which is real, mind you, just the echoes of our hyperactive minds. But just like the narrative of the well known chick flick, we wonder if Tebow can adequately calm his soul despite the noise? And more importantly, will this journey feature a weird old guy in a bandanna who refers to him as "Groceries"?

Actually, good quarterbacks play with a full bag of groceries. Tebow's operating with less than 10 items. That's not a knock on his intelligence but his skill-set, which notably lacks an accurate mid-range or deep throw. Oh sure, against the San Diego Chargers last Sunday he completed a few longer balls, including a nice 18-yarder to Eric Decker for a score. But as his 9 for 18 completions indicate, Tebow passes usually finish like a clean-up on aisle three.

The truth is, we need to forget the stats - even ones that show Tebow's protecting the ball, and his passer rating as a decent 80.5 (as of week 12). What have been conventional quarterback measures for the last 50 years are no longer relevant - didn't you get John Fox's memo? It's not about style points, it's about wins. And Tebow is redefining "winning" football. As a result, it's quite possible we've been overrating the quarterback position altogether. Tebow, after all, is doing less quarterbacking than we've ever seen from a signal-caller, and his defensively-minded Denver Broncos are reaping the rewards. Even The Denver Post this week published that if Tebow earns his club a playoff berth, then he must not only be considered a legitimate Pro Bowl candidate, but also the NFL's most valuable player. Mercy!

Tebow's success - and the hype that follows it - feels like a sharpened iron poking at our collective sides. Yes, his personality is divisive, but so is his style. It's so unnatural it's making our heads explode. So how do we resolve the issue of a player we can't accurately label? How do we rationalize this football phenomenon when his perpetual positivity and seemingly endless luck - see faith - supersede the gaping holes in his quarterbacking repertoire? And what are the parameters for defining a winner anyway? One win? Five wins? Twenty minutes in the confessional?

There's no science to this. We know Tebow is a winner because high profile people tell us so, and because he's taken more end of game knees than Johnny Lawrence from Cobra Kai. And yet, recounting his faults has become a national pastime. We know Tebow can't throw, but he makes plays. He doesn't look down field, but he rumbles across it like a John Deere mower. He doesn't hang tough in the pocket, but is hard enough to take an Elway helicopter spin. He doesn't let plays develop, but his teammates are developing a powerful belief in him. He can't play four quarters, but he nails the fourth. He talks about his faith too much, but never stops believing. And though we keep talking about him, he doesn't hear it.

Just what to do with a case like Tebow?

We probably won't know until the journey ends, when he's hoisting the MVP trophy above his haloed noggin, and we've all attained a mile high worth of enlightenment.

This article first appeared on Technorati.