Over 27 years ago, then-New York Jets owner Leon Hess threw up his hands in frustration and made a move.
After apologizing to the media for the press conference’s inconvenient 1:00 p.m. ET start time—coupled with the lack of sufficient food options—Mr. Hess both admitted transparent past failures and giddy future optimism.
Better yet, Hess made it crystal clear that he would gladly hop on for the ride. Or, as he put it, he would be that little kid who walked next to the shopping cart steered by a Tuna.
“The Big Tuna has signed on,” Hess said. “He’s going to run the show, and there won’t be two or three cooks in the kitchen.
“And with that, Bill Parcells, please take over.”
Everybody knows what transpired next. Parcells took the lowly 1-15 squad of 1996 and immediately turned them into winners. Nine wins in 1997 set up the 12-win 1998 team that captured its first-ever AFC East crown.
Yet the point of this story has nothing to do with Parcells’s successful Jets teams. It’s instead a lesson in perception.
Whether or not Hess interfered with previous football operating procedures didn’t matter much. Although he didn’t interfere with Rich Kotite’s prior vision, Hess showcasing complete concession while hiring Parcells is what truly hits home on this very day, Nov. 13, 2024.
He made it clear that Parcells was the man at the top and that nobody else even came close. He made it clear that he had previously failed his football team.
He made it damn clear that he needed somebody to show him how to win.
See, whether or not Woody Johnson immersed himself in the Jets’ football operations is hardly important; it’s instead about how people perceive that item.
In fact, a great case can be made that he appropriately stayed away.
Until Robert Saleh’s firing early this season, the headlines surrounding Johnson rarely dealt with the football side. Not only did it appear that Mr. Johnson had taken a backseat to the football program, but his team also executed nearly everything the fans wanted.
General manager Joe Douglas (along with Saleh) had free reign on the culture’s vision, and they did so with youth at the forefront. Better yet, from a fans’ perspective, he went out and caught the big fish of the moment—after the young quarterback failed.
The fans wanted Zach Wilson gone. The fans wanted Aaron Rodgers here. And that’s exactly what happened.
Still, while perception isn’t everything, it sure means a hell of a lot. And right now, the perception that Woody interjects his thoughts and ideas into everything New York Jets football looms large.
The idea that the organization is a mess is a perceptual nightmare when thinking about future candidates. Who of great stature would consider the Jets?
While, yes, one of just 32 general manager positions and one of only 32 head coaching jobs in the NFL is precious, no matter the situation or scenario, a sorting of quality occurs when prospective openings show face.
Douglas taking the job in 2019 was considered a home run catch. Stranger yet, I still hold the opinion that he performed magic tricks in the personnel department—ultimately cleansing the franchise’s porous talent evaluation of the prior decade while building a tremendously talented roster.
Missing on a young quarterback and offensive tackle is as commonplace as yellow laundry in today’s NFL, and organizations easily overcome it. Douglas’s cardinal football sin was missing on the coaching staff.
Unfortunately for Douglas, coaching in this sport quite literally is nearly everything.
This past Sunday hammered home the nail in the coffin for this certainty. In Arizona, the entire team played in a way that sent football back to the gridiron stone age, when even the most flexible fundamentals were optional.
Whether it was recklessly overpursuing, not carrying out a correct edge squeeze to eliminate space, or taking a more balanced approach at the 2i-tech when a misdirection rush attempt was coming, nearly every Jets player completely disregarded the teammate next to him.
As opposed to a football team, these Jets put forth a “collection of talent” on film.
For that unforgivable coaching miss, the New York Jets desperately need a hero. In finding that hero, Woody Johnson must become the eventual hero’s doorman towards entry.
Publicly state your intentions and concede football power, no matter where the truth lies. Get out in front of it before it’s too late.
Then, once the search commences, keep that humble attitude in tow throughout the entirety of the process.
Who that eventual hero turns out to be is anybody’s best guess. Could it first come from the head coaching ranks? Perhaps Mike Vrabel, Ben Johnson, or even Jon Gruden.
Maybe they can hit another home run by first starting at the top, as it should be. Perhaps Woody can lure John Dorsey away from Detroit.
I have no idea who that person is. All I know is that he is indeed out there and that he will only consider this franchise if its chairman intentionally drops his guard with modesty, humility, and menial traits leading the way on the football end of things—just as Mr. Hess did nearly three decades ago.
Yes, the New York Jets do indeed need a hero, but Woody Johnson must first perform his own heroic act—by taking a page of the Leon Hess playbook. Then, and only then, will success truly transpire and ultimately bleed into the next era—just as it did in the 2000s after the Big Tuna.
It’s officially hat-in-hand time, Woody.
