It seems that every time you turn on the TV or flip through New York’s esteemed Daily News and New York Post, Jets coach Rex Ryan has said something idiotic.
From foot fetish to long-winded monologuing about whichever opponent the Jets will meet next, the man might as well be a cartoon. In fact, Ryan shares some common ground with many of the greatest villains ever seen on Saturday morning television.
The most obvious comparison is to X-Men’s The Blob. He’s slow, he’s dumb, and he’s fat. Sure his layers and layers of skin and goo have made him an impenetrable force so we can fairly assume that sticks and stones won’t break Ryan’s bones, which may be why he’s quick to lob remarks toward greater men. It also explains why the lap-band didn’t take.
Another fat cartoon villain, Popeye’s bitter rival Bluto was just a jealous man with a fetish (foot or otherwise) for Olive Oil. Who would be surprised to find that Ryan’s every move is motivated by jealousy? Jealous of Bill Belichick’s success, thus he makes a traditional rivalry “personal;” jealous of Tom Brady’s wife, thus he tries to belittle the Patriots’ starter; etc.
Speaking of jealousy, what about Skeletor? His entire purpose in life was to bring down He-Man, seemingly because of He-Man’s chiseled jaw and flowing locks. He-Man was also known to point (his sword) in moments of victory. In this case, no wonder Ryan is so upset with Tom Brady’s so-called “antics.”
Mojo Jojo would lack a nemesis if it weren’t for his own tampering. The difference here is that Ryan’s rivalries are all in his head whereas Mojo Jojo actually created the three feisty little girls that he now fights. Plus, Ryan’s repetitive pre-game speech is about as relevant as Mojo Jojo’s declaration, “I’mmmmmmmMojo Jojo!”
Ryan is, by far, the whiniest NFL coach in the league and he’s only been on his little thrown for two seasons now. In actuality, just like Disney’s thumb-sucking, mama’s boy Prince John loves his gold and his brother’s status, Ryan loves the media and New York’s glamour.
Though not technically a cartoon, Rita Repulsa, the strange, raspy woman who inexplicably had it in for the Power Ranger’s tiny town of Angel Grove, also shares some of the characteristics Rex Ryan exhibits. Every week, she, like Ryan, would unleash some unsubtle creature to wreak havoc on the city and destroy the morphin', ninj-tastic teenagers. Sadly, Ryan’s unsubtle creature has no physical form. His havoc amounts to nothing more than tall talk.
Simple. Shredder has the foot clan. Ryan has the Jets. Shredder has Rocksteady and BeBop. Ryan has Mark Sanchez. The similarities are uncanny. The only difference is, Shredder is actually a ninja and Rex Ryan probably has trouble with a long flight of stairs.
Wile E. Coyote defines the term “close but, no cigar.” Outside of one particularly brilliant Family Guy sketch, Wile E. has never caught the roadrunner—and he’s been trying since he first appeared on Looney Tunes in 1949. Ryan, like the roadrunner seems to be able to get close to his prize (in this case, a Super Bowl victory) but, with a team who hasn’t won a Championship since 1968–despite 14 playoff appearances—he is unlikely to ever actually succeed.
With a sizzling hatred toward anything PATRIOTic, Cobra Commander’s erroneous plans are always out-muscled and out-thought by the good guys. Subsequently he blames someone else, jumps in his JET, and flees the scene, loudly commanding that this time his orders are to be followed lest he be defeated again.
Most precisely like Ryan, Dr. Doom is the self-proclaimed emperor of a made-up country who talks the talk but lacks the walk to back it up. Rex Ryan’s big-mouthed comments week-to-week are nothing more than exhausting media snares and nobody cares any more—especially without the Jets consistently competing in a way that make Ryan in any way relevant.