Greetings. For this preview we went down below. Way down below. I mean, WAYYYYYY way down below.

…Sure. Let’s go with that.

In actuality, we’ve given Cerberus three steaks (for each of his mouths to feed on so maybe he’ll let us back through) and called upon the ferryman Charon for his services to cross the mythical River Styx.

To the land of Hades, the land of the dead. At first the god of the underworld was less than pleased about living mortals coming to his domain, the first time since Orpheus nearly won his wife back from the dead (except he looked back), but we explained ourselves and he was more than willing. Our common ground?

Hades, the lord of the underworld: Wait, you guys know Bleergh? He’s a buddy of mine, we go bowling when he’s off-season! The shit we got into in the olden days, you know? Sephy’d kill me if she found out and she’d tell Shan’khor, who’d probably kill him… I’ll tell you later, give it, say, 80 years from now over some Olympian wine? Because that shit’ll fuck you mortals up, won’t be able to stand for a week! Or ever, for that matter.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Bleergh. He has to put up a bit of a facade when he’s on the job with the flags and the reviews and the dealing with idiots. You know, like we all do. That’s why I called the dog at first, can’t just have anyone pester ol’ Hades for interviews! You okay, by the way?

[Door Flies Open]: Yeah, we expected Cerberus, so we got a whole bunch of those huge Texas truckstop challenge steaks.

Hades: Yeah, that’ll keep him busy for a little while. Not forever of course, he’s a big boy. Of course even after all these years, when he’s in the house he’s still just like a puppy! He loves my chair, gotta remind him all the time he’s can’t be sitting on my nice chair, that’s the chair I use to intimidate the dead when they get here and learn what their fate is, it’s not the same if he’s taken scratches and bites out of it. He loves it when Mommy feeds him and Daddy scratches his belly, and three heads means he pretty much always catches the discus on a fly playing fetch.

DFO: Wow, he really is just a big ol’ doggo, isn’t he. Anyway, so… you guys get football here?

Hades: Of course! Super Bowl kinda sucked though, we were all rooting for the Falcons here on Olympus. Actually in most of the godly realms, I think it’s just Loki who was rooting for New England. And Lucifer of course, but that’s because he’s making bank on his investment, not sure when he’ll finally sell but it should hit maturity soon.

But most of the time I’m a Raiders fan, you know, because they’ve given B-Dawg so much in tributes over the years.

DFO: That’s fantastic! I was wondering if you have any Jets fans for this interview—

Hades: We’ve got a couple, but sorry, no videos. Can’t show the dead, medias’ll go into a collective frenzy and the like. Imagine what would happen. Audio’s okay as long as it stays here and you can transcribe it of course, but the audio’ll burn out or whatever term once you’re back across the river, same reason. Although considering 2Pac’s secret hidden tracks… eh, he’s not in my domain, so he’s not my problem. Long story about who gets whose dead, there’s paperwork involved, I don’t want to explain it now, that’s not what you’re here for. And where are my manners? (calls into the… pantry of the underworld, I guess, to a beautiful being just out of eyesight) Sephy, do we have any ambrosia for our guests?

Persephone, queen of the underworld, goddess of vegetation: (still unseen, calling out) It’s next to the wine, like it always is!

Hades: Thanks, dear! (back to me with a goblet) Have some ambrosia! Nectar of the gods?

DFO: (takes a sip) Wow, this is… I’ve never had anything like it. Thank you.

Hades: We’re proud of it, you’re welcome. Fresh from the Elysian Fields! Anyway, when you finish that up, I’ll show you to the resident Jets fans. The first one’s by that hill over there. Sorry for it looking a little less than tidy, but it is Tartarus, it can’t exactly be a picnic, right?

(They walk to the hill, where there is a man pushing against a large boulder.)

Sisyphus, former king of Ephyra: Oof! (setting the boulder down) My name is Sisyphus, first king of Ephyra. I made sure that commerce would be welcome in my kingdom but none would be able to contest my city, denizen or foreigner alike. For a time, I cheated death itself, as Thanatos was all too generous allowing himself to demonstrate my chains. But now I am to roll this boulder up this hill until it remains at the top, but it continuously rolls away from my control as I near the summit. But one day, I vow that I will outsmart these enchantments of Zeus and reach the top of this hill, for I am Sisyphus, most clever of men!

DFO: That’s great, sir. We’re from the land of the living sent here to interview you. Lord Hades says you watch football, and you’re a New York Jets fan?

Sisyphus: Aye, they are one of the few things that I am allowed to rest for. However, I know not why I support such a team that toils endlessly towards their goal, but every few years their load seems to plummet back to their starting point. After the promising campaign that fell short of the championship rounds (the Jets went 10-6 in 2015, missing the postseason after Ryan Fitzpatrick threw three picks in Week 17 against the Bills), the entire squadron regressed, like a boulder rolling back down a hill. (The Jets followed up by going 5-11 last season; Fitzpatrick threw approximately a bajillion interceptions early in the year, Geno Smith started one game and got hurt, and Bryce Petty was thrown to the wolves. The secondary couldn’t stop a nosebleed at times, and even the fairly strong front seven started to falter as a result.) This year they are forced to start from the base to try and climb the hill in the future, but I fail to see how their grip will successfully push them to where they desire. (The Jets are back in full rebuilding mode, but without a hope and/or prayer at quarterback. Josh McCown is currently slated as the starter, behind him is either Bryce Petty, who wasn’t exactly a bright spot in the garbage time that was the remainder of the season, or what can only be described as The Christian Hackenberg Experience, in that you’re experiencing something, even if you’re not sure what. The Jets’ social media page throughout camp talked about “progress” with their quarterbacks, which is never a good sign.)

DFO: So, you’re saying that the Jets trying to build a championship team is some kind of futile, Sisyphean task?

Sisyphus: How dare you! I am sure that my labors will be worth it, and I will be able to show the gods that even they cannot best me! Don’t you compare me to the New York Jets!

DFO: O… kay. Thank you for your time. I’m gonna go now, is there… anyone else you watch the games with?

Sisyphus: Oh, yes, him, over there.

(He points to a being being attacked by an eagle.)

DFO: Oh, I know him. But how do I get the eagle to stop attacking him?

(Hades reappears, whistling, and the eagle retreats to a perch several yards away.)

DFO: Well that’ll work. Thanks, Hades! But I thought he was in the Caucasus…

Hades: He was, but we moved him here, makes our lives easier. Hang on, he’s kinda out of it as you’d expect. (Hades starts to jab the titan with his staff, fortunately not in the gashed area that used to be, and is quickly re-becoming, his innards.) Hey! Prometheus! You have a visitor!

Prometheus: Huh? Oh, I am Prometheus, creator of humanity, its benefactor. The one who gave it… (suddenly comes to) Oh, you’re human! Hi there, I gave you fire!

DFO: Yes, Prometheus, I know your exploits, and that as a result of them you’re chained to this rock and attacked by that eagle every day, and every night your liver regenerates because you’re immortal, I remember 8th grade English class. Anyway, Hades and Sisyphus told me you’re a Jets fan? I’m surprised to be honest, I’d think you were a Titans fan.

Prometheus: There’s a different football team called the Titans? But these Jets were once called the Titans!

DFO: Yeah, I know that too. Is that why you’re a Jets fan, by any chance?

Prometheus: I suppose. Although it seems I get no respite from my eternal punishment, for even when Hades allows me to watch their games it seems that more often than not I have the same feelings as I have after a day with the eagle. Especially when the ball-thrower threw six interceptions in one game last season. It was agonizing to watch; I begged for it to cease, but it fell upon deaf ears.

DFO: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Prometheus: Yet as soon as the calendar turns to autumn, the madness renews itself and we are almost forced to watch, even against our will, as these former Titans agonize us. And this season does not bode better than last. The defenders may be reasonable, though a tad worse at the frontlines (the Jets released longtime LB and team leader David Harris—who then got picked up by the Pats for salt in the wound—but the D-line should still be the strongest part of the team… barring things like Sheldon Richardson getting stopped doing 143 in his Bentley again like two years ago), and it would be difficult for the rear guard to be worse than last year. (The Jets’ secondary allowed countless big plays thanks to many coverage breakdowns and failures to communicate. CB Darrelle Revis was let go—before the alleged assault in Pittsburgh, mind you—and the Jets drafted S Jamal Adams with their first pick, the #6 overall.) But the attackers, the offense has a better than fair chance of being truly offensive, with even less supporting the ball-thrower than last campaign. Whoever the ball-thrower is. They aren’t exactly putting Heracles out there.

(The Jets let go of OT Ryan Clady, who had the difficult task of replacing D’Brickashaw Ferguson, and C Nick Mangold. Replacing them are… who the fuck knows or even cares? The O-line gave up 35 sacks last year and that number almost certainly will increase. In addition, they let go of both their top two receivers, Eric Decker [who was hurt much of last year] and Brandon Marshall [who at least doesn’t have to change his residence, because he was picked up by the Giants]. The starting TE is Austin Seferian-Jenkins, who slimmed down from last season and looks to improve upon his mighty performance of fuck-all after being cut by the Bucs due to a DUI—best wishes for him in that battle, but still, last year’s mighty performance of fuck-all! Matt Forté is another year older, so he’s probably lost a half-step, so the offense should basically be “Give the ball to Bilal Powell,” who will have a good quarter and a half until opposing defenses stack at least 8 in the box. Maybe 9. Hell, maybe 11.)

DFO: I understand, Prometheus. I must be going.

Prometheus: You’re still welcome for the fire!

(We turn to Hades)

DFO: Thank you, Lord Hades. I suppose it’s time for me to… (double-takes) wait a minute, I understand Mo Lewis in Tartarus for injuring Drew Bledsoe and giving this world quarterback Tom Brady, and I understand Wayne Chrebet wandering around over there due to the bajillion concussions, but what are you doing here?

Quincy Enunwa, the projected #1 receiver for the Jets: Uh, rehabbing for the bulging disk in my neck that’ll keep me out for the year?

DFO: You do know this is the underworld? That means you’re dead.

Enunwa: Oh. Damn.

Jamal Adams, the first-round drafted rookie safety: I could’ve told you that!

DFO: Jamal Adams? You too?

Adams: Well, I did call the football field the perfect place to die. Guess I did just that. Not saying I wanted to, just that I love the game that much. But here I am, I guess.

DFO: Ugh. Well, this is going to be a long year.

Hades, thank you for your hospitality, but I think it’s time for me to return to the land of the living.

Hades: Yeah, I understand. Go with care, Cerberus should still be working on those steaks, but that dog’s always hungry. And if you see Bleergh tell him the H-Man says what uuuuuuup! (Hades makes a kind of finger-gun motion)

DFO: Haha, will do. Take care.

Hades: See you after the rest of your organs fail! Promise you’ll get your gallbladder back then!

DFO: Wait, what?

So yeah. Being a Jets fan is equal parts Sisyphean and Promethean. And lucky for us, this year’s a combination of both! The defense’ll look relatively okay, or at least the front seven will be, but will be on the field for 40-something minutes per game because the offense will be next-level atrocious. Thanks to Quincy Enunwa being lost for the season, Robby Anderson will be the #1 target, a second-year undrafted player with 42 catches to his belt. Their “#2” (I guess), Jalin Marshall, will miss the first 4 games due to PED suspension, so expect ArDarius Stewart to get a lot of snaps. No, it’s okay that you haven’t heard of him. I hadn’t either.

I’d say they can’t do worse in terms of stopping receivers than last year’s cavalcade of breakdowns, but we’ll see! Buster Skrine and Morris Claiborne are the starting corners, after all. The run game’ll be okay, I guess, the run D’ll be okay-ish, I… guess? Maybe? Until they’re all exhausted by Week 12? Anyway, it won’t be pretty.

Prediction: The second overall pick. Not the first, because that would mean properly sucking and if any team could screw that up with a team that sucks this much it’s the Jets. So let’s say 2-14ish, because that’s what I have the Browns down for. Unless they can both go 0-15-1. Which is possible! If you’re interested, they play the Browns Week 5 in Cleveland, and I think we should all watch that game because if the open threads were MST3K episodes, this could be our Manos: The Hands of Fate. As in, the NFL may have to apologize to us for how bad that game will possibly be.

Mark your calendars and make your final score predictions now! I’m gonna say it’s a 4-2 final, somebody. Or a 2-2 tie. Which would be more futile and therefore funnier than a scoreless tie. But yes, the announcers will say things like “points are at a premium today” and “defensive battle” but in actuality will mean “we’re not paid nearly enough to watch this because having to sit through this atrocity might be a violation of the Eighth Amendment.”

Other predictions: David Harris’s O/U of sacks + interceptions in the two Jets-P*ts games will be around 5, even if he doesn’t see the field for a single snap otherwise for the rest of the season.

If When Christian Hackenberg inevitably sees the field, he will throw for a touchdown on his first snap behind center. (Please note I did not specifically say it would be to a player on the Jets. Or even on the field. It might be to a cameraman.) Oh, and clean snaps, that is. He might fumble one. Or all of them. Or get flagged for fucking up how to break the huddle. Can you get flagged for that? It’s the Jets, so they’ll probably find a way.

Senor’s liver, already doing the work of two organs, ends up rivaling Rick Sanchez’s for hardest-working liver in the galaxy.