By Tonya L. KillikellyYES! It’s Crying Time again!

This is the time of year when baseball fans lament their teams’ player movement, or lack thereof, at the Winter Meetings. The Mets trade their Cy Young Award winning pitcher, R.A.Dickey; the Angels, as usual, are buying everything under the sun (doesn’t mean they’ll win anything). The Rangers keep A.J. Pierzynski for another year. He’s only the most durable catcher anyone’s found in eons. I’m happy for them.

Basketball fans don’t cry because we’re only 1⁄4 into the season as of now; and at this point, hey, everybody’s a hero unless your name is Dwight Howard. Hockey Phans? Well, what can I say? As of this morning, the league has cancelled all games through Jan 14th. Your sport is losing relevance. Fast. Didn’t your players/owners/managers learn ANYTHING from the Trials of Baseball and Football when they strike? You had your own mini strike a couple of years ago, but no! You gotta come back for more! AND You place Donald Fehr at the helm of your Players Association? That loser nearly helped destroy baseball during THEIR strike! I LIKE hockey, I don’t LOVE it, so I’m not MISSING My NY Rangers like I’d miss my football GIANTS. Ya dig? So what’s the plan here? Alienate the fans you have left? How much gluttony for punishment is there among you? You guys aren’t as rich as baseball, but you’re millions look pretty good from where I’m standing. Why are you killing the goose that laid the Golden Egg? Paging Marvin Miller!

It’s Football phans who do the REAL crying! If you root for the Jaguars, Eagles, Buccaneers, Titans, Lions, Jets or Cardinals? I’m putting you on suicide watch. I may have to join you. My GIANTS are so up and down. Pass the pizza so I can stuff my face to keep me from screaming. They beat the Saints by 52-27 two weeks ago, and the next week the Falcons pitch a shutout against them. Zero points. I mean Nothing. Nada. Maybe I should forget the pizza, and have some cognac. Is there anything stronger in the house? You know, to kill the pain.

The poor Saints, they got a raw deal. Here we were, calling them criminals and goons. Cheering the suspensions of their coach and some players for Bountygate, and what do we find out? The commissioner only had half of a leg to stand on. Picture it, Sicily 1930. Errr,wrong picture. Picture it again: your championship, perennial playoff bound team gets heavily sanctioned for having its players and coaches head hunt their opponents. The commissioner comes down hard, really hard on your team. The head coach is suspended for the entire season. Your defense looks like Swiss cheese now, because half of them are suspended too. You think the commissioner had the goods on them to levy such heavy penalties.

Your formerly Super Bowl winning team is now 6-8 with no chance for a playoff spot. THEN, you find out that the commissioner is on some kind of ego trip, and half of those suspensions shouldn’t have taken place. How are you feeling? Light-headed? Nauseous? Sick to your stomach? You sound pregnant to me. Just try to breathe and remember that it could be worse. You could be a Jet Phan.

As you well know, I’m a GIANTS Phan: First, Second, Last and Always; but I’ve watched the Jets since 1988: the good old Ken O’Brien days. We’ve seen their quarterbacks come and go: Browning Nagle, Boomer Esiason, Neil O’Donnell, Ray Lucas, Vinny Testaverde and Chad Pennington. And now, it appears that the beautiful Mark Sanchez is gonna be swimming with the fishes soon, because he just got benched after another HORRIFIC performance. One cannot win football games if we throw interceptions and fumble the ball. The dude has regressed. Badly. How do you go from AFC Championship games your first two seasons to where every game there are bets on not how many touchdowns you’ll be throwing, but how many interceptions?

You know who’s to blame? Ownership and management. When you draft a quarterback, you have to build a running game and an offensive line around him. You don’t flirt with Peyton Manning, get turned down by him, and then sign your guy to a heavy contract, only to turn around and trade for a “quarterback” like Tim Tebow. A guy who can’t throw the ball to save his life, to put “pressure” on him: tis the height of madness. I love their owner, Woody Johnson. When the question was put to him about WHO was responsible for Tebow being on the team, he threw his GM and head coach under the bus. It was “them”, he said; pointing a girlish finger in the direction of Mike Tannenbaum and Rex Ryan. If it was “them” how come they couldn’t find a proper way to utilize Tebow, the athlete; not Tebow, the quarterback? So no, Woodrow. You don’t get a pass. If management knew anything, they knew Sanchez was mentally fragile. Sure, he came out like gang busters that first game against Buffalo; but what’s happened since then? He’s slowly gone down the I’ve Lost My Mojo Hill. He’s taken a dip into the Sea of Perpetual Turnovers because whatever confidence he had is gone.

How do we fix it? The backup to his backup will start next Sunday, because he’s been benched. So No Tebow for YOU! As bad as the Eagles, Cardinals, Titans, and half of the NFL are and can be, nothing compares to the abject misery of Jet Phans. I won’t go through the litany of their pain, but the mention of the Dan Marino “Spike Game” is enough to send most Jet Phans reaching for pain killers. So here we are. Singing “Cry Cry Baby” by Janis; but it’s really Crying Time by Ray Charles.