JETS TALK: A FAN’S PERSPECTIVE

Bears 23, Jets 12 — Bury the Film. Bury All of It.

Well, I’m back from throwing up.

I wish I were kidding.

There are losses where you walk away frustrated but see something to build on. There are losses where one bad break changes the game. And then there are games like this one, where the best thing you can do is eject the film from the machine, dig a six-foot hole somewhere in Florham Park, throw it in, and never speak of it again.

Bears 23, Jets 12.

And somehow, it felt worse than the score.

The Jets were embarrassed. There really isn’t a nicer way to say it.

32 Plays. That’s Not a Typo.

The number that tells you almost everything you need to know about this game is 32.

The Jets ran 32 offensive plays for the entire game.

I’ve watched a lot of bad Jets football over the last 50 years, and believe me, that sentence has plenty of competition—but 32 offensive plays is astonishing.

The offense could never establish anything. Multiple three-and-outs. The running game was brutal. The offensive line gave Geno Smith little protection. Geno missed throws and took several sacks.

There was no rhythm. No sustained attack. No opportunity to wear down the Chicago defense.

Meanwhile, the Bears controlled field position and time of possession, which meant the Jets defense kept getting sent back onto the field while the offense barely had enough time on the sideline to get comfortable.

We talked before this game about Geno continuing to play clutch football.

He never really got the chance to be clutch because the entire offense spent the afternoon stuck in neutral.

The Running Game Has Disappeared

This is becoming more than a one-game concern.

Last week against Detroit, I questioned whether the struggling running game was the offensive line, the play calling, or some combination of both.

After this week?

It’s officially a problem.

You have Breece Hall and Braelon Allen. This should be one of the strengths of this football team. Instead, the Jets couldn't establish the run, couldn't stay on the field, and couldn't give Geno enough protection to compensate for it through the air.

That’s a terrible combination.

Frank Reich and this offensive staff have some work to do because whatever they’re trying right now isn't working.

And Then Come the Penalties...

This is the part that bothers me the most.

Enough with the damn penalties.

We saw it against Green Bay, and I said it then: too many penalties are the sign of an undisciplined football team, and eventually that falls on the head coach.

Well, Aaron Glenn, I'm saying it again.

Do better.

Because this team needs discipline.

And nothing summed up the insanity better than the interceptions.

The Jets finally got their first interception since 2024, courtesy of Minkah Fitzpatrick.

HALLELUJAH!

Somebody check the calendar. Alert the media. Apparently interceptions are legal in New York again.

And incredibly, the Jets had three more interceptions wiped out by penalties.

Three.

You almost have to work at that.

Instead of potentially having a huge defensive day forcing turnovers, you're left wondering what might have been because the Jets repeatedly shot themselves in the foot.

At some point, “we need to clean that up” isn't enough.

Clean it up.

Where Were the Bright Spots?

Usually, even after a loss, I can find something.

Maybe a young player flashes. Maybe one unit dominates. Maybe there’s a drive or two that makes you think, Okay, we can build on that.

Not today.

The only legitimate bright spot I saw was Minkah Fitzpatrick's interception.

That's it.

I'm not handing out participation trophies.

There are no moral victories—and after this performance, there aren't even any immoral victories.

What Happened to the Team We Saw in Tennessee?

That's what makes this so frustrating.

We’ve seen this team play good football.

Against Tennessee, the Jets were physical. They controlled the game. The offensive line looked strong. Hall and Allen looked like a dangerous one-two punch. The coaching staff looked prepared. The Jets played with confidence.

Even in the losses to Green Bay and Detroit, there were stretches where you could see a better football team than the one we watched last year.

Against Chicago?

Gone.

This looked like a team that got pushed around, outplayed, outcoached and—worst of all—undisciplined.

That is not supposed to be what the Aaron Glenn era is about.

Coach Glenn, This One Is On Your Desk

I like Aaron Glenn. I like the attitude. I like the accountability. I like what he's trying to build here.

But eventually the product on the field has to reflect the message coming from the head coach.

The penalties have become a recurring problem.

That's discipline.

The offense couldn't stay on the field.

That's preparation and execution.

Chicago controlled possession and field position.

That's complementary football—or, in the Jets' case, a complete lack of it.

Aaron Glenn wants to change the culture of this organization. Great. Jets fans have been waiting decades for somebody to do exactly that.

But culture isn't a press conference.

Culture is what your team looks like on Sunday.

And on this Sunday, the Jets looked undisciplined, unprepared and completely overmatched.

Forget It and Move On

There really isn't much more worth dissecting.

Some games deserve hours in the film room.

This one deserves a shovel.

Bury it.

The Jets lost 23–12. They ran 32 offensive plays. The running game was nonexistent. Geno struggled. The offensive line couldn't protect him. Chicago controlled the football and field position. Penalties wiped out three potential interceptions.

And outside of Minkah Fitzpatrick finally ending that ridiculous interception drought, there was absolutely nothing I saw that made me feel better when the clock hit zero.

Last week I said there are no moral victories.

This week?

There weren't even any morals.

The Jets got embarrassed.

Now we'll find out something much more important about Aaron Glenn and this team:

How do they respond after getting punched square in the mouth?

Because you can bury the film.

You can't bury the season.

On to next week.