The fragility of greatness
The excitement headed into Monday night’s NFL game between the Buffalo Bills and the New York Jets was palpable. The debut of Aaron Rodgers as the Jets new quarterback had been hyped to the moon and back, with Jets fans having more hope than they have had in a very long time. In fact, that hope had grown to the point of borderline expectations, something that could not have been said of any Jets team over the last decade.
I would imagine even the most jaded Packers fan was, at the very least, curious to see how the presumptive future Hall of Fame quarterback would perform in a uniform other than the green and gold of Green Bay. For my part, I held little in the way of any sort of grudge against the four-time MVP; it was time for both parties to move on, no hard feelings. I honestly would count myself amongst those that held more than a fair share of anticipation for Rodgers’ post-Packer career, wondering what the near 40-year old QB could do when he actually had a decent defense to work with.
Four plays into the Jets first drive and suddenly all of that build up came crashing down.
Rodgers’ final stat line for the 2023 season will read as such: 0 for 1 passing and one sack for 10 yards. His incompletion intended for tight end Tyler Conklin the play before Rodgers’ tore his left Achilles tendon could very well be the last pass we ever witness from one of the game’s greatest players. A completely innocuous play, one that passed without hardly a thought, one that only holds any sort of value in hindsight.
Of course, Rodgers could still eventually return. But with an extremely long timeline for recovery and the aging quarterback having already batted around the idea of retirement in prior seasons, it is certainly not out of the question that Monday night could have been the last time we saw him step on the field as an NFL quarterback.
It is amazing how quickly it all came to an end. How one play, one sack of the 531 Rodgers has endured over the course of his career, could send months of hype swirling down the drain. It’s something that, on one hand, is an expected part of the game, but on the other, seemingly came out of nowhere. Regardless of whether you were cheering for or against him, this wasn’t how the story was supposed to go.
It’s not exactly an uncommon occurrence in sports. For five months, Shohei Ohtani was wowing baseball fans with one of the greatest seasons in the history of the game. Now, with Ohtani facing the potential of a second Tommy John surgery, we are left to wonder if we have perhaps seen the last of the phenom’s two-way dominance.
Despite the various narratives that the surrounding media spins around these athletes, they are not characters in a story. This isn’t some masterfully crafted tale, complete with a satisfying conclusion that wraps up all the threads that have built up over the years. Outside of fiction... sometimes things just end. Sometimes abruptly, without warning, in a way that is wholly unsatisfying to the imagination.
Moments like these can serve as a somber reminder of the fragility of our own personal fictions. It is often difficult to appreciate something when I am in the midst of it; oftentimes it is only recognizable in hindsight. It’s something that I’ve tried to be better about, to see the value of the good in the moment.
Because you never know when a 240-pound defensive end might land on your ankle and mess up all those plans you had.
A C ertain Point of V iew
