THESE are the games that define head coaches and quarterbacks.
The expectations changed when the Jets bludgeoned the Dolphins and then laughed in the face of December in Indianapolis, which means that Herm Edwards’ rookie season is a failure if he does not get the Jets into the playoffs now. Which means that Vinny Testaverde’s neck is on the line Sunday in Oakland.
Testaverde didn’t get Al Groh into the playoffs on the last Sunday of the last One-Game Season in Baltimore a year ago. He has to find a way to get Edwards into the playoffs on the last Sunday of this One-Game Season.
That’s the way it is in the salary-capped world of the NFL when you are 38 years old and a No. 1 draft choice such as Chad Pennington has been waiting for two years.
That’s the way it was in 1994 when the late George Young and Dan Reeves tapped Phil Simms on the shoulder and asked him for his playbook so Dave Brown could take the keys to the Giant kingdom.
For Testaverde, then, the urgent New Year’s Day message becomes, to borrow from the great Al Davis:
JUST VIN, BABY.
If justice prevails, he will find a way to Vin-dicate himself for his four-interception nightmare against the Ravens because he is class all the way, the ultimate professional, an All-Pro ambassador for his organization and for New York. Testaverde, who yesterday expressed his displeasure with offensive coordinator Paul Hackett’s play-calling in the final seconds Sunday, is the one who stands in the middle of the locker room every Wednesday and Thursday and takes the heat while most of his reluctant, misguided or petulant teammates are hiding.
He saved the Bill Parcells Jets in relief of Glenn Foley and brought the Jets to the brink of Super Bowl XXXIII and fought back from a ruptured Achilles that would have ended the careers of lesser men.
Unfortunately, none of that will matter if he doesn’t JUST VIN, BABY.
His 2000 season would have been difficult enough coming off that Achilles and saddled with a pinched nerve in his neck even if Groh hadn’t signed off on the Keyshawn Johnson trade. Testaverde has been asked this season to master a West Coast offense that sorely craves a big, physical receiver like Johnson. Matthew Hatchette was supposed to help. He has not. Santana Moss was supposed to make an impact. He has not.
Testaverde has been asked to allow Hackett to wrap him in a cocoon of conservatism that has been alternately practical and maddening. Practical because it limits his interceptions and gets the ball as often as possible in the hands of Curtis Martin. Maddening because you can’t beat the elite teams when you play too often not to lose.
Unfortunately, none of that will matter if he doesn’t JUST VIN, BABY.
He is the leader of the team. It is his job, and Edwards’ job, to lead this team to the playoffs. That leadership is sabotaged if he doesn’t JUST VIN, BABY.
The furor over not getting his team in the end zone will die down in a Broadway minute if Testaverde finds a way to JUST VIN, BABY.
If he winds up leading the green-and-white horse to water but is unable to make it drink for a second straight season, then Woody Johnson will demand answers.
Testaverde’s record as Jets starter is 30-15. Unfortunately, that will not matter if he doesn’t JUST VIN, BABY.
He would like to end his career as a Jet, and he could probably play as a backup until he is 45 considering the shape he is in. But he has too much pride to be a backup at this point. The decisions about restructuring his contract, or about a Quarterback Competition next summer, or about the start of The Pennington Era, will come later.
Testaverde was five years old when his idol, Joe Namath, got to the Super Bowl by beating the Oakland Raiders 27-23 on a bitter cold day at Shea. Now it is Testaverde who has to beat the Oakland Raiders, in Oakland. It is his Super Bowl.
JUST VIN, BABY.
