KAYLA HASTRUP
Editor-in-Chief

By the time I send The Metro’s second to last issue of the semester out to the printer, there will be 37 days left until graduation.
It’s hard to believe that the past four years have gone by so fast and my college experience will soon come to an end.
Looking back, I wonder if I accomplished all the goals I set for myself when I first entered college. Did I make the most of it? Should I have chosen a different major? Would I have done something different? Could I have had a better experience?
Shoulda, woulda, coulda…
If there is one thing I have learned, it is that you can’t drone about the past and what you “shoulda, woulda, coulda” done instead. Regardless of the mistakes and failures I faced (and trust me there were plenty), those experiences were just as important, if not more important, than the successes I have also had.
Not only do the failures and mishaps make you stronger as an individual, they prepare you for the future. I have found that it’s inevitable for people to have regrets or to think, “I wish I did that instead,” but it is important for people to understand those experiences make them who they are today.
I recently held a program where five men from the Market Street Mission’s “Rehab and Recovery” program shared their life stories and how they got to where they are today.
Starting from when they were even too young to drive, these men battled addictions that eventually led them to a meaningless life filled with drugs and alcohol. They bravely shared their testimonies and how they felt lost and hopeless when all they looked forward to was feeding their addiction for the day.
One of the men shared that his addiction led him to a life a crime that in return sent him to prison from age 29 to 41. “Not a single day of my 30s was spent as a free man,” he said.
Even though he spent over a decade in the confines of prison, those experiences made him who he is today. For him, and the other four men, their life of crime and drug addiction was a part of the journey that led them to their now successful lives.
Should he have made better decisions? Maybe. Would those better decisions have changed his life? Probably. Could he be the strong, independent person he is today without them? No.
Everyone has regrets or wishes they made better decisions, but regret, I think, is a useless emotion. I always say that “I wish I knew what I know now when I was younger,” but that also is a useless wish.
Life and time will move forward, whether you want it to or not, and people simply need to embrace the past and learn from their mistakes. Had the Market Street Mission men given up during their all-time low, they would have never experienced a life of love and happiness.
So, should I have done more with my college experience? Would it have been better? Could it have made a difference? These are questions I’m done asking. I realized that it truly does not matter, nor should it. My regrets, failures and successes alike have made me who I am today.
As I walk through my life journey, I believe it is important to keep looking ahead because the moment I look behind me is the moment I’ll trip and lose sight of what’s to come.

Student Body,

This will be the first of many columns from the College at Florham’s Student Government Association to be published in The Metro as a way to create communication between students and their SGA.
The column is intended to bridge gaps between the students and the government and act as an opportunity for students to come to us with any concerns or suggestions.
Being the first column, a brief overview of SGA’s activities this semester will be addressed and students are encouraged to respond.
At our annual retreat held on March 6, we had a goal-setting seminar. It was during this seminar that we decided our principal goal was to increase openness and accessibility by being more visibly effective.
What this means is that we wanted to be known as an organization for students and by students. One of the policies we implemented to increase awareness of SGA activities was the initiation of office hours throughout the week.
The office hours are designated times, during which each board of SGA (communications and technology, financial, student affairs, academic affairs and class senators) will be available in the SGA office to answer any questions.
The SGA Web site will also be regularly updated with the agenda of the most recent meeting, allowing students to see what is discussed during the Wednesday SGA meetings.
During our most recent meeting, Provost Kenneth Greene spoke to the SGA and all those in attendance about the different things happening at our university.
One particular issue he addressed was the renovation of Dreyfuss, which was originally set to be completed by April, but pushed back due to unexpected complications and weather conditions. The completion date was also set back due to the loss of valuable classroom space and the need to expand the building outward to make up for it, according to Greene.
The main purpose, he said, is to make the building more handicap accessible by installing an elevator.
As for future events, the SGA will be hosting a Cinco de Mayo barbeque on May 5, in the village by the basketball court, which will hopefully be newly renovated by then.
As a final note, the SGA would like to encourage all students to come and voice their opinions at SGA meetings, which are held weekly on Wednesdays at 3:30 p.m. in the Wroxton room.
The door will always be open, as will our ears and minds. We’re here for the students because we realize that our job is to represent their interests as best as we possibly can.

Sincerely,
The Student Government Association

CHRIS NIMBLEY
Sports Editor

As I am writing this there are still three days left in the NBA regular season; by the time you read this the playoff seeding will be set. As it is right now, the Western Conference is a jumbled mess.
There is no telling who will be the number two through eight seeds in the West. The Lakers are the number one seed; that has been set in stone for some time. As of April 12, Portland, San Antonio and Oklahoma City will be battling it out for the sixth, seventh and eighth seeds, while Dallas, Denver, Utah and Phoenix are fighting for the two through five slots. There is no telling how these last three days will play out and what matchups will come in the playoffs.
What makes this so great is it really doesn’t matter who gets seeded where. Well, not to your average basketball fan; we win no matter what. There are so many different intriguing matchups that it would be impossible to see a potential matchup that wouldn’t be interesting.
The West is loaded with a bunch of great teams besides the Lakers; still, most people seem to think the Lakers will steamroll right through the conference and find themselves back in the championship. I have my doubts about the Lakers, but I also have a hard time seeing anyone beat them in the West.
Full disclosure here: I’m a Nets fan and I have a natural hatred in my heart for the Celtics and Lakers. So, yes, I do have some biases against said teams, but believe it or not the biases will not come into play here.
What happens to me during the course of any sports season is that I root for my team, and those teams have never changed, then if my team is out of it I start rooting for the teams or players I enjoy watching the most. Which means I will be rooting for the LeBrons and the Oklahoma City Thunder.
Unless you’re an NBA junkie like me, with the NBA League Pass and two televisions set up next to each other, you probably haven’t had a chance to fall in love with the way the Thunder play basketball. Kevin Durant is quietly becoming the third best player in the league, behind Kobe and LeBron, of course, and your average fan isn’t even aware of this transformation.
The average fan will hear bits and pieces of this type of talk, but will brush it off as pure hype. For those that do I feel sorry for you; you don’t know what you’re missing. The hype is real; in fact, he needs more hype. This kid is only 21 years old and is already going to win a scoring title on a playoff team. He is averaging 30.1 points per game with 7.6 rebounds a game. He is 6-9, but handles the basketball like a point guard, has probably the nicest pure shot since Reggie Miller and has all the confidence in the world. I have watched numerous Thunder games this year and I ‘m shocked at how many times I saw Durant step up and take over a game with ease.
Durant is not the only reason to like the Thunder. They have one of the best young point guards in the league in Russell Westbrook. They are surrounded by a core of young, talented role players, who know their role and do not get in the way of the stars, unlike some other teams built around a superstar and role players who think they can be superstars too.
I will be rooting for the Thunder, but the reality of the NBA is that they are too young to win more than a round or possibly two depending on who they get matched up against, but they could very easily get bounced in the first round. Teams don’t just make the playoffs for the first time and win championships in the NBA; you need to go through a couple of tough playoff defeats before you can move on.
In the East, it’s LeBron I’m rooting for and it is pretty self explanatory. The man is a freak of nature, the things he does, the speed he moves at and the intensity he shows are all enough to leave you in awe, especially when you see him play live. You can’t even begin to imagine the difference in seeing him play live, just the energy he brings into the building is enough to get anyone excited. LeBron is clearly the most dominant player in the league; the problem is his team is terrible, I mean really terrible. He is surrounded by shooters, who continually fail to make big shots when they count and for some reason these people insist on taking the shots instead of just giving LeBron the ball and getting out of his way. Their best offense is when LeBron grabs a defensive rebound, runs up the court himself and 3.2 seconds later is dunking the ball.
The NBA is a star-powered league; there is no real reason why the championship shouldn’t be the Cavs vs. the Lakers, except for the ego of their teammates getting in the way. Artest, you are not Kobe Bryant, even when you were still good you were never Kobe level good, stop pretending you are and get out of Kobe’s way. The same goes for Mo Williams and anyone not named Antwuan Jamison on the Cavs. Watching random Lakers and Cavs games I constantly find myself wondering how these teams can possibly win playing like this; there are so many better teams than them, but there just aren’t many teams that can beat either of them in a seven-game series. Boston is too old and fragile, Atlanta will make it harder than most people think, but they are not getting four wins against LeBron. The Magic could actually beat the Cavs again, but that’s it, nobody else is posing the slightest threat.
In the West, Utah can’t win a road game, Dallas and Phoenix are too soft, San Antonio is too old, Oklahoma City and Portland are too young. In the next couple of years you will see some of these teams - Thunder, Bulls, Bucks, Trailblazers etc. - emerge as powerhouses, but that will have to wait. The moment has passed for teams like the Spurs and Celtics; the time is for Kobe and LeBron, unless Dwight Howard decides he has something to prove. Still, in the end, it will most likely come down to the fact that Kobe will be Kobe and LeBron will be LeBron when it matters and I, of course, will be rooting for the LeBrons.

VICTORIA MARICONDA
Contributor

It is important to assess yourself and know what you want to do, where you want to do it, and your strengths, talents, skills and accomplishments. But perhaps most importantly, you need to be able to articulate to potential employers what you can do for them, and back it up with evidence of the value you will bring to their organizations.
Job searching is essentially a marketing effort… Would you “buy” a product without the confidence that it would perform as advertised? Probably not, and it is no different for an employer acquiring talent in the form of a new employee.
Becoming aware of the value you bring allows you to move outside your comfort zone and expand your search to new industries, fields, etc. because you have identified transferable skills and are able to articulate them to employers.
Research the concept of “Personal Branding” online, to understand how to package yourself in terms that will catch an employer’s attention. A good Web site for this is: www.quintcareers.com/branding_self-marketing.html.
And, as always, if you need help come to Career Development

MELISSA HARTZ
News Editor

The red numbers on the clock beside the bed blink 4:09 a.m.
After a night hanging out with my closest pals, I lay on my side on my best friend Eric’s bed, propping my head up on my elbow. He sits on the floor beside the creaky twin extra-long bed, head resting against my leg, eyes half-lidded. The Killers play softly from his laptop, the music accompanying his sleeping roommate’s rhythmic breathing.
“I love The Killers,” he says to no one in particular.
Eric is what I affectionately refer to as my “first friend.” Nearly three years ago, we met at college orientation, and have been pretty much inseparable ever since. We’ve met great friends through one another, consoled each other through rocky breakups, and cried on each other’s shoulders through tough times. It’s weird to think that we have less than a year and a half left before graduation and the real world force us apart. I shift my position slightly, and the iron bed frame squeaks loudly in protest.
“I think I’m going to join the Army,” Eric says, looking up at the ceiling.
I sigh. It’s not news to me; he’s been mentioning the Army off and on for the past three years. That hasn’t made it any easier to swallow, though. I twirl a lock of his straw-colored hair around my finger.
“But what am I gonna do without my first friend?” I ask. He tilts his head back and looks up at me. A smile dances on the corners of his lips.
“I’ll be okay, I’ll send you letters!” he says. “Besides, it might help pay off my tuition. I’ve got loans, you know? And if I can’t find a teaching job when I get out of school, my dad has to pay.”
I nod understandingly, but still my stomach churns at the thought of my best friend in uniform, flying off to the other side of the world for god knows how long.
Luke Yepsen grew up in the house around the corner from mine. Only a couple years older than me, with red hair and icy blue eyes, I remember swimming in our neighbor’s pool with him and his brother, or painting the cinderblock in their basement. After a few years, Luke and his family moved to Singapore before finally settling in Texas. I didn’t hear from them for a long time.
Through Christmas cards, we learned that Luke had joined the Marines. His mother informed us that he had recently returned from boot camp, where he shed nearly 20 pounds. In a note that followed just a few months afterward, we were informed that Luke was being shipped to Iraq.
“Luke died today,” my mom told me a few months later. “Their Jeep hit a roadside bomb.” Though I hadn’t spoken to Luke in years, I remember the news hit me like a truck. I sat in front of my computer that night, looking through Luke’s MySpace page, the “countdown ‘til I come home” bringing a fresh wave of stinging tears. He had a fiancée. They were supposed to start their life together when he came home. He was 20 years old when he died. Kids my age aren’t supposed to die.
For a long time I had trouble sleeping, plagued by dreams of young soldiers’ mangled faces and crying wives. In my dreams the Marines get younger and younger until they’re little boys in digital-camouflage uniforms, helmets dipping over their eyes. For weeks all I can think of is Luke’s poor fiancée and how it feels for your future to end before it even began. I think about her hugging him at the airport next to piles of olive green canvas bags, feeling his chest against her cheek, breathing in his scent for the last time. I had never met her, and yet, how badly I wanted to draw her into my arms and cry with her and tell her how sorry I was.
I look down at Eric and think about having to hug him goodbye at the airport, wondering if the last I’ll see of him is his back as he boards a plane to the Middle East. When he looks up at me I notice that he has the same watery-blue eyes as Luke, and it sends a chill up my spine. He must see the worry on my face, because a smile creeps across his face again. He puts his hand on mine.
“I feel like it’s something I have to do,” he tells me. “I don’t want to die an old man having never done anything important, you know?” He looks up at me again, his brow furrowing slightly.
“I’ll be okay.”
A weak smile spreads across my lips. I remember reading in a newspaper article that Luke’s mother said that Luke died doing what he felt was right. Maybe this is what Eric feels is right. Maybe it’s a calling - and you don’t step between a man and his calling.
We chat for a little while longer before I pull on my coat and gather my things. Eric walks me to the door, our footsteps cutting through the silence and dark like knives. He smiles and pulls me into a hug.
“You’re a good friend, Melissa,” he tells me. I hug him tightly, breathing in the smell of man and musk and cologne.
“You’re not too bad yourself there, pal,” I reply with a smile.
We part ways, and I head up the many stairs to my room. As I tilt my head down and trudge up the stairs, my mind races. I think about Luke, and Eric.
I suppose all I can do is trust. That’s what first friends do, after all.

BRANDON BATTERSBY
Contributor

Two white rental vans drove through the blackened night and paint chipping sandstorms in search of Tuba City, Ariz. - one of the destinations selected for the Alternate Spring Break volunteers from the College at Florham.
I was riding shot gun watching road signs rattle against the sweeping winds that rocked our van side to side between the lines of our lane - no other drivers were dumb enough to be on the road. Even under these conditions, the city would be hard to miss.
All 22 volunteers’ expectations prior to leaving New Jersey had already been proven wrong - in a five-hour drive from the airport we had passed through the warm cactus painted landscapes of Phoenix, the cold snow capped mountains of Flagstaff and the windy arid plains of the Navajo Reservation. We even saw snow falling amidst the sandstorm as we picked up a late night dinner at the local Sonic.
Why had we come to such a place for our Spring Break? To make a difference. But like our expectations of Tuba City, our actual experience would be completely different from anything we had anticipated.
After we prepared breakfast, large enough to feed the team and handful of Navajo church goers, we visited the Grand Canyon. The afternoon sun had melted the patches of snow and the roads were clear. The red sands and bold, colorful rock formations stood as testament to the endurance and beauty of America’s native people.
Despite the beauty and majesty of the land, it is a feat of pure perseverance to have survived in an area as arid and destitute as this. The Canyon itself was a site to behold.
I looked down the layers of painted stone, and all I could think about was how to climb to the next highest shelf of Paleozoic rock. My daring bouldering efforts earned its fair share of oohs, ahs and heart palpitations, but most importantly it earned me an unmatched view of the four-mile trench in front of me. The Canyon paralleled the momentous week ahead and the work we would start the following day.
We were participating in a program under the Amizade organization. Usually its volunteers worked within the Navajo boarding schools, tutoring students. Luckily, the Navajo school system was also on spring break, so we had the rare opportunity of working with the local Boys and Girls Club to assist in its program and activities. Through this, we got to play the role of a “Big Brother/Sister” for the Navajo children.
What surprised me most, being a past B+G Club member myself, was that they were minimalist and not only made due with what little they had, but reached out to the community through exposure. The connections we made to the children were almost instant.
Our service was supplemented with evening cultural experiences. One of the most memorable for me was participating in a Sweat Lodge. The traditional Navajo have many ceremonies and rituals; one of the most commonly practiced is a Sweat, where people can expel their misdeeds and bad energy by praying and communicating with the “Grandfathers.”
Our ceremony instructor, David, explained that the ritual is physically set up to represent the body of a woman. Outside, there was a pile of wood representing the mind or hair, the fire pit that cooked the rocks was the heart and the altar that held his instruments represented the naval, making the burrow where we would sit the womb of Mother Earth.
David filed all 22 of us into an earthly hallow, no bigger than an office cubicle, around a pit of heated volcanic rocks which he threw water on top of to create an intense sauna-like setting. After passing along a ceremonial pipe of mountain smoke, he pulled down the curtain to block out all light and began singing and banging on a drum. I found myself disoriented, lacking any of the senses I had brought in. Only the ineffable orchestra of prayers and chanting of everyone around me flooded my mind. We asked the “Grandfathers” for selfless things, we prayed for the world, and sang. I sweat buckets on the two girls lucky enough to be sitting next to me. I was far from comfortable, but as soon as the four rounds of the ritual were over, I emerged from the earth’s womb into the cool purple sky of the desert and admired the bleeding sunset feeling reborn.
That night I forgot about my problems back home, I forgot about the stress of my senior year, I even forgot about my peeling sunburn on the tightened skin of my arms, neck and forehead. David, like our B+G Club mentees, held open a door of discovery.
Our week continued in suit. We talked to the children about the foreign idea of attending college, played a giant softball game and helped organize the B+G Club’s storage units so that they could begin repairing their buildings. We visited Monument Valley, Coal Mine Canyon, and cultural museums. We shared stories of skinwalkers, danced to Navajo songs, and were taught the native language.
Every morning I woke up with excitment no matter how late I stayed up the night before. I was renewed with an energy that I have only experienced in this place and only within the people I met. It’s impossible to give more to the Navajo people than I had received on this trip, from a people that expected the best of your humility and soul. You could never lose sight of this expectation in a place that greets you with the words Yah’ ah’ tee - walk in beauty. Walk in beauty.

VICTORIA MARICONDA
Contributor

The Tri-Collegiate Career Fair was a huge success based on the number of students that attended and the quality of the employers that participated. Many students acknowledged that it was definitely worthwhile attending and some of the students got interviews.
Given the poor economy and lack of jobs, be proactive; attend as many career fairs as you can. Be sure to dress professionally and have critiqued resumes. It’s very competitive and you need to be well dressed, articulate, know the employer you’re talking to and the position they are offering. Any additional hints and information, talk with a career counselor. Good luck.

KAYLA HASTRUP
Editor-in-Chief

On March 2, upon celebrating “Read Across America,” and Dr. Seuss’s birthday, I was reminded of my favorite quote by Dr. Seuss.
In the famous quote, he said, “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”
There are many concepts a person can take away from such a simple, yet profound statement, but for me it runs deeper. When I was younger, I was painfully shy.
When I was headed to college and away from home for the first time, I did not know how I was going to be able to make it through, especially with community bathrooms and close-knit dorm living. My sister gave me advice that has stuck with me ever since and reminds me of Dr. Seuss’s quote. She told me that I shouldn’t be afraid of what anyone thinks because everyone is too concerned with themselves.
As I entered freshman year, I tried to live as though no one minded what I was doing because, like my sister said, they were thinking the same thing I was. The advice worked and I broke through my shell throughout the years.
Now, I am no longer shy and feel no reservations about the things I can accomplish. As I am growing emotionally, it seems the people watching my every move are increasing as well. I try to put them in the back of my mind and focus on myself, but living in a “fishbowl-type” atmosphere, as a leader on campus and as a resident assistant, I am constantly being judged and supervised.
I have nothing to hide in my academic and social life as a college student, but the idea of people caring about what I am doing is a new concept for me.
As I followed my sister’s advice and was growing out of my shyness, I tried to forget about certain people who will always judge and criticize others. Being supervised in both my academic and social life, I realized my sister’s advice can only be taken so far. Instead, I needed to lean toward Dr. Seuss’s philosophy. If someone does mind, and there will always be people who do, they don’t matter.
For this issue, I got a chance to look deeper into the story of two students who survived the Seton Hall fire in 2000. One part that stuck with me was the bravery and confidence the two men had after the fire. Despite being physically changed and scarred for the rest of their lives, they moved on and moved forward. It seems they were able to truly follow the Seuss philosophy. Their families, friends and anyone who truly matters do not mind.
This newspaper, particularly my editor’s column, has given me the opportunity to say what I feel. At first, I thought my ideas and opinions may be criticized or judged, but then I realized I shouldn’t censor myself because of that.
People are different and they need to express their opinions and be themselves. Without diversity, the world would be a very boring place.
When I run into people who do criticize or have judgmental opinions, I have learned to try and just brush them off. The way I think about it, and the way the Seton Hall students and Dr. Seuss think about it, is that those people simply don’t matter. They will not be the ones who stick around in your life and they will not provide the positive atmosphere people need.
Too often I am surrounded by people with negative attitudes, and what my friend likes to call “wet blankets.” What she means, I’ve gathered, is that certain people do not follow Seuss’s philosophy and have an attitude that weighs you down. If you are constantly around those “wet blankets,” their attitudes will eventually rub off on you. It’s inevitable that you will conform to the negativity.
I would consider myself a pretty optimistic person with a positive outlook on life, but in order to successfully continue that, I’ve realized I need surround myself with those who have similar outlooks.
It may seem overtly optimistic, but if the Grinch can change, I think everyone has a chance.

MELISSA HARTZ
News Editor

“Bar drinks? Bar drinks, ma’am?”
I sit up in my chair, moving my thick-rimmed sunglasses up onto my hairline, shielding my eyes from the Caribbean sun with my hand. The young man stands at the foot of my lounge chair, holding a tray in his hands. I tilt my eyes upward at him, a smile dancing on the corners of my lips.
“That would be lovely,” I hear myself say.
The young man takes my order and card before disappearing into the throngs of sun-kissed, bikini-clad bodies to retrieve my drink. I settle my sunglasses back onto the bridge of my nose and recline back into the lounge chair, running a hand through my dark hair and gazing out to the horizon. A contented sigh escapes my lips, drowned out by the sound of a small wave crashing against the ocean liner as it cuts through crystalline-blue water.
The bar server returns with my drink at a speed only achievable by cruise ship staff. Before I am able to thank him, he zips away into the crowd. “Bar drinks, madam? Bar drinks? Something from the bar, sir?”
A thin layer of condensation has formed on the outside of the tumbler, where the frigid glass meets the humid, tropical heat. The ice clinks soothingly in the glass as I pick it up, the scent of Caribbean rum and cola intermingling in my nostrils. I lean my head back against the chair, the waves crashing rhythmically in the distance. I don’t know where the ship is headed, but oddly enough, I don’t care, as long as it is far away from Suburbia, New Jersey. I close my eyes, the gentle rocking of the ship lulling me into a half-sleep state. Suddenly, I feel someone standing over me, blocking my sun.
“Oh my god! I’m so glad I found an RA. I left my keys on my bed. Can you let me into my room?”
Oh no. God, no.
Like a time warp, I am pulled from my tropical fantasy land and into my university’s lounge. With the Internet out in all of the residence halls, people pack like sardines into the lounge, each hooking up to the room’s wireless Internet to get some work done. Bad flourescent lighting washes out our faces, making us look like lost souls, misplaced and confused by our disconnection from the world. I sit on a stained maroon couch with a rip in the cushion, white bud headphones in my ears, my computer whirring quietly in my lap.
“Well?” asks the girl standing before me, placing her hands on her hips for emphasis. Her bun flops to the side as she tilts her head expectantly.
I look up at her in a daze, pulling one of the buds from my ears.
“Yeah…yeah, sure,” I say, fumbling for my keys.
I put my head down, hiking up the many flights of stairs to the girl’s room. It’s been a tough day - the Caribbean escape was a welcome reprieve, even if only a dream. The Internet shuts down on half the campus, my frustration is ever-growing with my job. The day’s events are topped off with a monumental fight with the young man I’ve been recently spending my time with, and the fact that I’ll probably never talk to him again makes me sad. Not sad enough to remedy it, mind you, but sad nonetheless.
The light on the door blinks green when I swipe my master card, and the automatic lock clicks open. The girl slips in without so much as a thank you. After two years, you’d think I’d be used to it.
“You’re welcome,” I say to no one in particular, hearing my own voice echo back to me in the hallway. I shuffle back down the stairs to the lounge, placing my computer back in my lap, the wooden frame of the old couch creaking in protest. I place the white ear buds in again, and turn my music on, hoping that will be the last time I’ll be disturbed this evening. I lean my head back and close my eyes, trying to whisk back to that faraway escape in the islands.
Tomorrow is a new day, but I could certainly use something from the bar tonight.

CHRIS NIMBLEY
Sports Editor

The New York Jets refuse to be handcuffed by the new rules of free agency, which limits their ability to improve their team.
This offseason in the NFL is like no other in the history of the sport. The owners of NFL teams and the players union have been unable to come to a new collective bargaining agreement so we are heading into the 2010 season with no salary cap.
Since 1994, there has been a limit on the amount of money teams can spend to field a complete team. With no salary cap it essentially means teams can spend as much money as they want, giving the wealthiest teams a clear advantage. At first this might seem like an advantage for the Jets, unfortunately because of last season’s success, they and seven other teams have a distinct disadvantage from everyone else in free agency. The difference between this year and the years that predated the salary cap are the rules of the Final Eight that kicks into effect when there is no salary cap.
The Final Eight rule means that the last eight teams playing in the playoffs face restrictions on what they can do in free agency. These teams are only allowed to sign a free agent if they lose one of their own and they can’t pay the new free agent more first year money than the player they lost, which means the Jets must get creative.
In the NFL, teams build championships through solid drafting and key free agent pick-ups. Last year, the Jets were knocking at the door of the biggest free agent, linebacker Bart Scott, the minute they were allowed to talk to him. This aggressiveness convinced Scott that the Jets wanted him more than others and Scott played as much of a role as anyone not named Darrelle Revis in the Jets’ success last year. This year the Jets can’t do that; they are at the mercy of everyone else and can only sit and watch other teams sign the big name free agents.
The Jets general manager, Mike Tannenbaum, has been as aggressive as any other GM over the years and even with his options limited he has shown he will continue to be aggressive. With free agency beginning at 12:01 a.m. on March 5, the Jets made a big move hours before free agency began. They managed to make a trade that will have more of an impact on their team than most, if not all, of the other big name free agent signings that have since taken place and will continue to take place. The Jets sent a 2011 draft pick to the San Diego Chargers for cornerback Antonio Cromartie. Cromartie is without a doubt a top 10, if not top five, corner in the NFL and now he will be plugged into the best defense in the league and asked to cover the opposing team’s second-best receiver. This is clearly a win-win situation; surrounding Cromartie with this type of talent will only make him better and having a top flight corner as your number two corner will only make it that much harder for teams to pass on the Jets.
Last season, the Jets had the number one ranked pass defense and overall defense, but still there were holes that needed to be filled if they want to be able to beat the elite teams like the Colts or the Saints. The biggest reason for the Jets’ defensive success was the play of Revis. Revis has been the most dominating shutdown corner the NFL has seen since Deion Sanders; only Revis can play against the run and actually tackle people - something Deion never did. The Jets’ weakness against a high-powered passing game was that they only had one Revis. When they lost to the Colts it wasn’t because of the Colts’ best receiver, Reggie Wayne, as Revis shut him down all game. It was their inability to cover the other receivers the Colts threw at them. With Cromartie it is hard to imagine Austin Collie or Pierre Garcon consistently slicing through the Jets defense as they did in the AFC Championship game last season.
This one move of trading a 2011 draft pick for one player already has to scare quarterbacks throughout the league. Last season, the Jets gave up just 154 passing yards per game, 30 yards less per game than any other team, at least 50 yards less than all but five other teams. Adding a clear top 10 cornerback to the team has to be giving quarterbacks in the AFC East nightmares, and yes, that includes Tom Brady. Brady and many other quarterbacks were already frustrated with the different schemes and looks the Jets defense gave them. The Jets were able to do these exotic blitz packages because of the presence of Revis. The addition of Cromartie on the opposite side of the field gives the Jets even more room to play with and take chances.
Cromartie is in the final year of his contract so he must perform if he wants to get a big payday and anyone who has watched the NFL knows players tend to step it up in a contract year. He has been a dominating force and a big time playmaker; add him to a team that allowed only 154 passing yards a game and any team that plays the Jets next year will be entering not only “Revis Island,” but what I now call the “No Fly Zone.”