You know who this was for?
This was for you, who has spent so many Sundays cursing at television screens, cursing traffic as you trudged home, maybe over a couple of bridges, on the way back from another horrific loss, cursing at football seasons that never quite seemed to make it to Halloween — and sometimes Columbus Day.
This was for you, who had to listen to maybe 35 percent of your home stadium overtaken by vile invaders from Philadelphia, who got a chance to shout all those cretins back to the Turnpike when the Jets pulled one of the most remarkable rabbits out of one of the most improbable hats.
Yes. This was for you, this 20-14 Jets victory over the Eagles, a win that knocked the Birds from the ranks of NFL unbeatens, a perch they enjoyed alone for about three hours after the 49ers were similarly humbled in Cleveland. This was for all the years of Same Old Jets, all the years when the biggest day of the year was the draft, all the years when the Jets all but dared you to renounce them forever.
The experts made the Jets almost a touchdown underdog against the defending NFL runners-up. You chose to believe otherwise. You were right. This one was for you.
“Any given Sunday, man,” Jets coach Robert Saleh said with what had to be the most satisfying laugh since he migrated here from San Francisco, promising exactly the kind of day his team delivered Sunday. “Any given Sunday.”
The Jets are 3-3, and have reason to believe now that big things are at least possible for them — and so do you. There was a welcome and stunning harbinger of what was to come a few hours before the game when Aaron Rodgers, not even a walking boot in sight, was spotted lobbing spirals on the field.
Then the game began, and it was 14-3 in about 10 minutes, and MetLife Stadium was beginning to sound like Lincoln Financial Field North, with the occasional exception of alternating choruses of boos when the Jets’ defense botched a tackle or groans when the offense sputtered and stalled time and again. A blowout was clearly in the making.
But a funny thing happened then.
The Eagles forgot to actually blow the Jets out. They started getting loose and careless with the ball, and the Jets happily started taking the ball away from them. Zach Wilson played a steady, mistake-free game, moved the Jets just enough so they could keep chipping away three points at a time.
And then, in a flash: magic.
In a flash, when one Eagles completion would’ve ended the game, when just one simple running play would’ve left the Jets with a long field and barely a minute left to try and eke their way into field-goal range, there came a most remarkable gift. Jalen Hurts saw one thing, but the Jets’ secondary sent something else at him entirely.
In a flash, the ball was in the arms of Jets safety Tony Adams, and Adams was weaving through the Eagles’ stunned offensive players, hearing Jets fans and Eagle fans shout “HOLY S—!!!” with equal fervor and disparate intent, galloping 45 yards to the Philly 8. Zach Wilson was just a few steps from where Adams pilfered the ball.
“I was 10 yards away and we were getting ready to go in and do the two-minute and win it that way,” Wilson said. “But it was cool to do it this way, too.”
Cooler still was the simple act of handing Breece Hall the ball on the very next play, letting Hall do the rest, then letting the defense — which by now looked to be playing the Eagles 13-on-11 — take care of the rest. Hurts ran four plays. He gained 2 yards.
The last was a hopeless heave downfield, and after a moment to scan the field for yellow buzz-kill penalty flags — it’s OK, you were doing that, you can admit it now, and you were pleasantly surprised to see seven of them remain stuffed in seven officials’ pockets — it was over. It was done. It was real. It was Jets 20, Eagles 14. Final. Official. Certified.
“Incredible,” Adams said.
“Surreal,” Hall said.
Soon Ace Frehley was blaring out of the MetLife speakers and maybe it’s been a good long while since you enjoyed singing along to “Back in the New York Groove” on your way back to the parking lots. Maybe you even sang it again a few times as you inched home, maybe across those two bridges. In no hurry to get there, either. These are the games you savor when you get them.
“Everyone was battling, all the way across the board,” Zach Wilson said. “No quit in this team.”
And none in you, either. You’ve waited a long time for a game like this, a day like this, an outcome like this, spent a lot of time doing what Red described Andy doing in “Shawshank Redemption,” crawling “… through 500 yards of s–t-smelling foulness I can’t even imagine. Or maybe I just don’t want to. Five hundred yards. That’s the length of five football fields.”
Yep. You get it. That’s what it’s been like for you for so long. Just not Sunday. Just not this game. Just not Jets 20, Eagles 14. This one’s for you.
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