Old Rexy is making guarantees again

"I believe this is the year we're going to win. I guarantee we'll win [the Super Bowl] this year. I'm trying to will a championship."

If those words out of Rex Ryan's gaping maw seem familiar, it's because he says something to that effect every time he polishes off a plate of cheese fries -- roughly once every 11 minutes.

I don't despise Rex like his father (a man who deserves to have his skull bashed in with a shovel before carpenter ants are unleashed on whatever brain tissue remains inside) but he always sounds like someone trying to convince himself of something he might not actually believe, like when I look in the mirror and tell myself I'm capable of satisfying a woman sexually.

He continues...

"The reason we're going to win is we're going to lock arms and we're going to find a way to get it done. From players, coaches, fans, we're going to lock arms and when we do we're going to find a way. I believe it."

One thing is certain, Rex seems to have crafted the perfect strategy for winning the NFL's annual "Red Rover" tournament.

And finally...

"I'm always going to say the same thing. I believe we can be champs. Why wouldn't I believe it? Somebody tell me why I shouldn't believe that we deserve to be champions."

I don't really know how to answer that, other than to say that the only team that deserves to win the Super Bowl is the team that actually wins it. This year it was the Packers, last year it was the Saints. And two years prior to that, the Giants, who deservedly won the Lombardi Trophy for the third time in their glorious existence as a football franchise that doesn't annually rip its fans guts out and urinate on them.

(They only do that semi-annually)

You get what I'm saying. Next year there will certainly be a deserving Super Bowl champ (assuming there is a next year in the NFL) but my guess is it won't be the Jets, and we can start this whole guarantee charade all over again in perpetuity.

There's probably a joke about Rex putting his (or his wife's) foot in his mouth, but I'm better than that.

Oh, and I guess I'm back to writing this silly little blog, however infrequently. Stay in touch for fascinating columns on how the Yankees plan to enter the 2011 season with one starting pitcher worth a damn, and other musings on idiotic and pointless sports-related nonsense.