The Cardiac Check-Up

Posted: November 15, 2011 by mzyohai in Jets, NFL, Patriots
Tags: , , , , ,

Now that another week of football has passed, it’s time for us to visit the doctor and have our pulses taken.

Nick’s Cardiac Status: EKG normal, with occasional spikes of pure elation

I had originally scheduled quadruple bypass surgery for Monday morning in the event the Patriots lost their third game in a row – to the Jets, no less. Crisis averted.

At halftime, with the Patriots clinging to a 13-9 lead, I made the executive decision to ask the bartender for a Budweiser with the hope that the most American and patriotic of beers would improve the Patriots’ karmic outlook. Turns out, a Bud heavy is just what the doctor ordered when it comes to lowering blood pressure and regulating heart rate, as the Pats outscored the Jets 24-7 in the second half. I haven’t stopped sipping the Great American Lager since, flirting dangerously with the fine line between alcoholism and superstition – the difference between a devastating loss and a desperately needed win.

Holding a one-game lead in the AFC East and the tiebreaker after sweeping the season series with the Jets, the Patriots have a cushy schedule the rest of the way. Next week brings the Kansas City Chiefs to town without starting quarterback (and ex-Pat) Matt Cassel – the same team that lost in consecutive weeks to the Dolphins and Tim Tebow. Cha-ching!

Is this what the Grinch felt like after his heart grew three sizes that day? Or what non-tortured fans of un-cursed franchises feel like? It’s so strange – everything is just so…wonderful!

If you Jets thought you were the new hot shit ready to take over the AFC East throne, well, you had another thing coming when you were rudely, beautifully, brilliantly put back in your place by the reigning king. Maybe someday you guys won’t be the thumb-sucking, attention-seeking little brother always standing in our shadow.

But until then, my ticker can keep on counting our time on top.

Hip-Hop for Heart Health (dedicated to your most famous and fittingly idiotic fan):
“Been handling the game so long my thumb’s bruised.
Your new girlfriend is old news;
You ain’t got enough green and she so blue.”
-Weezy F. Baby, “Fireman”

Mike’s Cardiac Status: Heartbeat weak… and few and far between.

What’s that stuff in Romeo & Juliet? You know, the potion that Juliet takes to fake her death. It slows down her heartbeat so much that she seems dead by all measures. Since I don’t feel like opening a book and reading, I’m going to assume that this potion was a distillation of pure Jets-fan-disappointment — or maybe just my tears. They’re probably the same thing.

If Mark Sanchez goofs up another game like last week, my echocardiograph beeps will sound more like “La Cucaracha” than a human pulse. Of course, shortly thereafter, my heart would simply give out.

I don’t think I can ever recall experiencing such a silent anger as I did Monday morning. Without a wall to punch through, my thoughts kept swirling around my head until my heart started beating faster and my face suddenly filled with a heat that only comes from a rage so impassioned with a desire to see Tom Brady be Gisele’s little spoon while he wears pink UGGs.

I guess I had a moment of happiness of Sunday when I saw Brady taken down for a safety. That moment was followed by insufferable darkness. Until… I watched every YouTube video of the last year’s divisional playoff game. Amid the darkness, I drank deeply from the cup of satisfaction of knowing that Brady hasn’t won a single playoff game since 2007 (freshman year seems so blissfully long ago).

But then I have to come into the light and remember that the Patriots, who are not a good team this year, still know how to somehow beat the Jets. Without starters and without a shred of defensive prowess or offensive confidence, the Patriots can still lay a beatdown on the Jets in the regular season.

If the Jets don’t bounce back on Thursday and continue a rampage into a wildcard spot, I’ll soon become unable to move or breathe. After all my bodily functions cease to work, my heartbeat will finally slow down so much that a beat will occur once every six millennia, and that beat will only be discernible to the most trained doctor.

Hip-Hop for Heart Health:

“All my bitches love me
You ain’t fucking with my dougie!”

-California Swag District, “Teach Me How To Dougie”


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