Okay, so here’s the thing: this is about Gerry Philbin, right? A guy who played some serious football for the Jets, and now… well, he’s passed on. Kind of wild how time works. Anyway, he was 83, if numbers matter to you. Coming out of Pawtucket, R.I., which, by the way, is a fun place to say out loud, Philbin was picked in the AFL draft back in ’64, representing the good ol’ University of Buffalo.
Now, imagine this: also snapped up by the Detroit Lions in the NFL draft. He was this big dude, like 6 foot 2 and 245 pounds. Can’t really picture what that size feels like, honestly. But man, he helped the Jets win the Super Bowl in ’69. Yep, they beat the Colts 16-7. Pretty awesome, right? I’m guessing the adrenaline was off the charts.
In 2011, he snagged a spot in the Jets’ Ring of Honor. Makes you think about legacy and all that. Plus, they stuck him on the all-time AFL team. Which sounds cool, even if I’m not entirely sure what that means in the grand scheme of things.
There’s this wild story, sort of blew my mind, about him playing with a separated shoulder. Like, they crafted this intense leather harness for him. Sounded more like something out of a medieval tale, but hey, football in the ’60s was a different beast. Played a whole game against the Chiefs with that rig. Mad respect.
Rex Ryan had stuff to say too — called Philbin’s drive relentless. I guess when you think of Jets lore, Philbin’s right up there. Ryan’s dad, Buddy, was coaching while Philbin was crunching bones on the field, so there’s some family history woven in.
Side note: sacks weren’t official stats back then. Didn’t know that. But unofficially — whatever that really means — Philbin had 64.5 sacks, which lands him high in Jets history. Crazy how some things just don’t get measured until way later.
Philbin did his thing for the Jets over nine years and then took one last ride with the Eagles in ’73. Wrapped up his on-field adventures with the New York Stars in some league that didn’t last. Probably made it all the more special in a limited-edition sort of way. Anyway, here’s to Gerry Philbin, with all his grit and glory on the field. Cheers to a life lived with purpose.
