January 11th, 2010
My first and only bromance….
My son recently asked why I’m a Jets fan, given that I spend half of every autumn complaining about what torture that entails. This was, of course, before their now-jubilant playoff run.
“Two words,” I said, “Joe Namath. When he and the Jets won Super Bowl III, it was the greatest sports moment of my life.”
His eyes widened. “You were alive for Super Bowl III?”
Uh, yes. In fact, I was in high school back then and so nerdy that after the Jets won the game, I was so moved that I actually spent the next day sketching a picture of Joe Willie (I know, it makes me gag too). Considering that I couldn’t draw, it was especially pathetic.
But my obsession didn’t end there. On the day the Super Bowl champs were feted at City Hall, I finished my Latin AP exam (amo, amas, amat) as quickly as I could and headed downtown. I missed the parade but saw the boys at City Hall where I managed to snag a giant Jets button that I still have.
My fascination with Broadway Joe went on and on. The next year, when the team was in the AFC championship game against the Chiefs, I took a day off from school and bought one ticket to the game. There I stood in the frigid cold by myself while the Jets failed to score from 1st and goal. The Chiefs won the game and the Jets never made it back to the Super Bowl again. It was heartbreaking….
But I remained a fan. A year later, still in high school, I was working in a deli at E. 67th Street and Third Avenue, not very far at all from the Bachelors III, Namath’s East Side eatery. Every chance I got, I wandered by the bar hoping for a real-life spotting of my hero. I imagined the parties he went to, the girls he had. I wanted to be Joe Namath.
I finally did come face to face with him. The next season, I went with my younger brother to a Jets game. After they lost, we ran onto the field which was fairly traditional in the days before taser-armed cops would fire at any fan who even leaned over a fence. My brother got close enough to Joe that he was able to pat him on the back. I watched in awe until Joe pushed him aside. “Get away from me,” he said.
It was kind of a bummer but I didn’t let that affect my adoration. After all, it wasn’t me he pushed away.