It's not time for I told you so. Not yet, even as we confirm the worst possible scenario: Aaron Rodgers tore his Achilles on Monday night and will miss the entire 2023 season after just four plays as a Jet. Not now, while anyone connected to the Jets universe wonders what they did to perpetually upset the cosmos, mulling over every broken mirror, sidewalk crack and overturned salt shaker. Not today, with a long season ahead and a solid roster still intact, still capable of clawing through this division and into the playoffs.
The Jets knew this was always a possibility; such is life when you hinge your dreams on an aging human body. Such is life when you channel all your frantic hopes through one person. Such is the risk when you set this stage, when you embrace this hope, when you manifest a season that ends with yours as the last team standing. Such is life in a league where you can have most but not all. You can have the quarterback, you can have the cornerback, you can have the wide receivers, the pass rushers, the linebackers and the running backs, but like some kind of Alanis Morissette song, most of the offensive linemen able to protect the blind side and play side are all gone.
Erick W. RASCO/Sports Illustrated
