It’s a concept that 99% of New York Jets fans grasp. Believe me, Jets fans, if you’ve stuck with them this long, give yourself some love – you possess mental fortitude most humans could only ever dream of.
But there are a select few who still can’t grasp it… even as we approach the quarter mark of the 21st century.
Evaluating football is not a black-and-white proposition.
It seems like a basic concept, but when you scroll the timelines and dig into the comments, it can be baffling how this elementary idea evades countless New York Jets fans. To many who curse themselves with the burden of talking about this team each day, it’s always a matter of pointing fingers and choosing who is “to blame” for the team’s struggles. In the eyes of these fans, there are precisely two labels a player, coach, or general manager can have: “To blame” or “not to blame.”
That’s it. That’s the extent of their analysis.
I come to you with a startling revelation: Multiple parties can be at fault when a team loses 12 games, and to varying degrees.
For instance, I and many others have been critical of Aaron Rodgers’ performance this season. Fervent defenders of Rodgers often elect to twist these criticisms to fit their narratives, claiming that anyone who directs an ounce of criticism toward Rodgers is putting the entirety of the Jets’ underperformance on Rodgers’ shoulders.
If you are claiming this season falls entirely on Rodgers, you’re wrong. It is factually incorrect and an extreme overreaction. There are some radical Rodgers haters out there, but most people criticizing Rodgers are smart enough to realize that 2024 is far from entirely his fault.
The Jets’ defense is abysmal, ranking 27th in DVOA. New York’s kickers have combined for the league’s second-worst field goal percentage. The skill-position group dropped a ton of passes. Breece Hall woefully underperformed. Tyron Smith and Mike Williams were bust signings. The tight end unit contributed nothing. The entire coaching staff was out-coached on a weekly basis. The owner’s meddling did not help.
All of these things can be true, and Rodgers can be criticized at the same time. That’s where the radical pro-Rodgers side is off-base. He is not exempt from criticism because other parties struggled – especially when considering Rodgers still performed poorly when put in favorable situations (which was quite often considering how well the Jets’ offensive line played in pass protection).
Not to mention, the popular excuse about Rodgers’ drop total (which is a valid point; Rodgers has the second-highest drop rate at 9.4%, per Pro Football Focus) is mitigated when considering his accuracy was still poor even when accounting for those drops. He ranks 23rd out of 32 qualifiers with a 73.7% adjusted completion percentage (per PFF), which counts drops as completions.
Having said all of that, no sane criticism of Rodgers is intended to suggest that New York’s failed season was entirely his fault. Perhaps Rodgers’ season would have played out better if a few of his supporting pieces were stronger, particularly the run game. The Jets never planned for Rodgers to throw as many passes as he did, but a weak rushing attack forced their hand.
As for the radical Rodgers haters, you can criticize Rodgers while acknowledging that he was only a small part of an epic collapse driven by numerous factors.
This phenomenon applies to Rodgers’ off-field persona, too. Some people view Rodgers as a threat to world peace, while others view him as a saint. Both sides have valid points, yet neither is correct. Rodgers is a complex figure whose story can only be accurately told by accounting for both the critiques and the praises.
It would be ignorant to suggest Rodgers does not bring a major distraction to the team with his omnipresence in the media cycle. It also cannot be denied that he had an excessive influence on the roster and other vital team decisions, resulting in multiple poor additions to both the roster and coaching staff. As a leader of the locker room, Rodgers was shaky; there were times when he appeared to be a stand-up guy, and other times, he threw teammates under the bus. Furthermore, he displayed hypocrisy on multiple occasions.
Simultaneously, it is admirable how Rodgers embraced the challenge of coming to the Jets. He immediately dove into the culture of the franchise and the region. He took an immense pay cut. He put in time to get to know his teammates off the field. His teammates often praise him as a guy they enjoy playing with and learning from. In 2023, it was inspirational to see him attempt to make a historic comeback from his Achilles injury. On the field, he showed noticeable intensity and passion each week. Say what you want about his performance, but he definitely cared.
I suppose it’s just the nature of the beast in today’s day and age. In a social media-driven world, it’s all about drawing attention to yourself. Sitting on the fence doesn’t accomplish that, because neither side is outraged nor elated. But when you pick a side, one side will strongly vouch for you while the other will chastise you, successfully cultivating the desired whirlwind of dopamine from all directions. (A certain former Jets head coach mastered this art form at ESPN, perhaps raising questions as to whether you want him as a head coach).
I suppose the message is this: You can be pro-Rodgers, anti-Rodgers, or anything in between, but it is erroneous to pretend that analyzing this Jets catastrophe (or any football team) is not a complex formula that requires nuance to be fully unpacked. It is never one man’s fault. Or two. Or three. There are 53-plus players, dozens of coaches, a full front office, and an owner who all contribute to the product that reaches the field.
If you’re deep in the trenches of Jets Twitter (or whatever other digital hellscape you’ve dug yourself into) and you see someone claim this season is entirely Aaron Rodgers’ fault, or that Aaron Rodgers is a wrongly accused scapegoat, just go ahead and mute them. Or, better yet, go outside. It’s a lovely, sunny day for a winter walk. Wear that Jets beanie with pride. It’s a badge of honor that signals to your fellow humans that you are a survivor. You watched Adam Gase coach 32 football games, and yet here you stand.
Personally, I will not be taking that walk, as I enjoy sitting on my computer and subjecting myself to the cesspool that is football talk on the Internet, but you’re better than me, reader. When you’re back, I’ll be right where you left me, scouring Twitter in search of inspiration as I question why I haven’t deleted the application yet.
