At this point, we are ready to believe anything that Rex Ryan tries to tell us. He is a Romulan kind sent from the future to avenge the destruction of his own planet? His sweater is made from velvet paintings? He weighs 240? We buy it. We buy all of it.
Every time Ryan says something ridiculous, like “we should be favored to win the Super Bowl” (before the playoffs) or “the rest of the league has to deal with what the Jets are bringing” (before the season), we scoff and laugh, and next thing you know, Ryan is the only person in this world who looks sane. It is amazing to us that the Jets are a game away from the Super Bowl — the Jets! One game away! — but it’s not amazing to Ryan, and he’s the only person who counts.
“I’m confident. There is no question about it,” he said. “We’re going into the game expecting to win. I’d be shocked if we don’t. Absolutely would be.”
Putting aside for a moment how concerned for his health we would be to see Rex Ryan physically shocked — and we would be very concerned — at this point, we cannot deny: We march, lemminglike, behind the words of Ryan. When we think he’s being brash, he turns out to be right. If we feel this way, we can’t imagine how his team must feel about him. One game away.