This is one of those rare, delicious autumn Sundays, when your team plays their team.
Though a native New Yorker, I bleed black and gold. Weaned on Mean Joe Greene, with a 1978 Terrible Towel hanging proudly in my home, I still speak in the collective — “we have six Super Bowl rings.”
Most of my friends, however, are hardcore Jets devotees.
And while a midseason NFL battle is always worth copious chest-thumping, smack-talking and endless, unanswered texts after the game, this week’s contest is a special tale of two teams. Fans of the losing squad brace for Facebook invectives and Twitter missives, with the winners being as clever and caustic as 140 characters allow.