ANALYSIS: Playoffs ouster proves the Jets are human after all

Being the fan of a team can be exhilarating. The highs of a season can be so high. And this season’s version of the Jets gave the fanbase a ton of highs.
That’s what happens when you win 52 games and have 110 points in an 82-game season. You get the Jennings Trophy-winning team and what is certain to be the Vezina Trophy-winning goaltender.
It can also be heartbreaking. These last few days, I’m sure, have been sad for Jets fans. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, so abruptly. It wasn’t supposed to be this lopsided, with only five games in the post-season.
But for us , or rather, those who watch the team, or wear their favourite sweater to work and the game and after, life goes on.
Two days after the sadness of losing to the Avalanche, Jets fans get back to real life. They take the kids to school, ponder what to have for lunch, wonder when to go to the lake.
Nowhere do we feel the physical pain it took: playing all those shifts; taking the abuse of the opposition; and managing all the bumps, bruises and breaks that this game presents. It’s truly amazing what these men will put their bodies through to win 32 pounds of silver.
Thursday, we heard of the physical pain the Jets went through to try to win the Stanley Cup. And we also heard of the mental anguish that each and every one of them feels about falling short of the objective.
It was revealing to hear the players and the coach talk in terms of being a team, and how hard it was and is to become a champion. That competitive edge that professional athletes have always sets them apart. We see it in a positive light with every goal, every great save, every body check, and every moment a trophy is raised.
But we rarely see the other side of that edge, the one that the losers have to face.
They have to live with it — and not for a couple of days, but at least until next season, and maybe even beyond.
It is truly the greatest reminder that the athletes, the ones we put on the pedestal, are after all, human.