Woody Johnson is the Jets curse that can’t be fired

There shouldn’t be a lot of tears shed for Robert Saleh. In the history of the NFL, there are 201 men who have head-coaching careers that included part or all of a fourth season. Saleh is 181st on that list in terms of winning percentage. His final record for the Jets reads like this: 20 wins, 36 losses (.357).

Those numbers get coaches fired. They got Saleh fired. On merit.

But you can still weep, and sob plenty, if you are a Jets fan, because this is still as slipshod an operation as we have in American sports. Forget history. Forget all the jinxes and curses and hexes that fans invent to make themselves feel better, as if there’s something more mystical to explain decade after decade of deplorable football.

Woody Johnson is the curse. Woody Johnson is the jinx.

After a quarter century in the big seat, Johnson has settled in nicely to a rare and rarefied place: he is the worst owner in New York sports. That’s true in the here and now. And he is gaining quickly on the all-time leader in the clubhouse.

(Although even Johnson — or anybody else, for that matter — is going to have a hell of a time supplanting John Spanos, who “owned” the Islanders for five months in 1997.)

Think of it this way:

For years, the most improbable New York owner story was George Steinbrenner somehow evolving from pariah to patriarch to favorite rich uncle, all in less than a decade. Now it’s James Dolan, who was certain to wear the belt as long as he chose to own Madison Square Garden. Once he lamented that he was treated worse than any owner in New York history.

“George has you beat,” I once told Dolan. “Trust me.”

“George?” Dolan asked. “They loved him at the end.”

“Yes,” I said. “At the end.”

“Well,” he said, “maybe they’ll love me when I’m dead!”

Dolan didn’t have to wait for such an extreme solution; he merely had to identify competent lieutenants in Leon Rose and Chris Drury, keep happily signing checks, withdraw to the owner’s seats and let Woody cook.

Johnson’s quarter century of ownership began with him frightening off two Hall of Fame coaches, Bill Belichick and Bill Parcells, running off the franchise’s most popular coach (Rex Ryan) and then hiring a series of coaches and GMs, all of whom have managed to lower the bar exponentially. This is all on Johnson’s watch.

It’s one thing to be incompetent. It’s something else to be delusional.

Follow the latest on the New York Jets firing head coach Robert Saleh:

“This is one of the most talented teams ever assembled by the New York Jets,” were words Johnson actually said Tuesday, which Joe Namath and Gerry Philbin might find interesting (to say nothing of what Curtis Martin and Darrelle Revis might say). “I wanted to give this team the most opportunity to win this season.”

Maybe if Woody Hayes was telling you the finer points of building a winning football team, it’s worth a listen. Woody Johnson? Here were some other gems:

“This will bring new energy and positivity and lead to more wins starting now.”

“We have an unbelievable team.”

“We have to give these fabulous players on both sides of the ball a chance to win.”

And even these absurdities were just warm-up. This is what Woody Johnson said about the Haason Reddick situation, just before he dropped the mic at the end of a conference call:

“Haason, get in your car. Come down 95 (actually, in his case it’s “up” 95; Johnson should alert his limo driver) and come to the New York Jets. You will be welcome with open arms. We’ll meet you and give you an escort.”

So Johnson didn’t just fire his coach, he also pistol-whipped his general manager, stripping Joe Douglas of whatever leverage he might’ve had with Reddick. If Johnson wasn’t born into a bundle, would you even let this guy manage a lemonade stand?

Unsurprisingly he mostly absolved Aaron Rodgers, to whom he handed the keys to the kingdom a year and a half ago and who sets both narrative and policy with the Jets with every gesture and answer and non-answer. He’s already had major issues quarterbacking the Jets; it’ll be fun to see how he plays the position now with blood all over his hands.

“I have a lot of experience doing these things,” Johnson said, and he sure does. He has done as much damage as an owner can possibly do in 25 years, and seems eager to get a head start on the next 25. “At the end of the day, it’s my decision and mine alone.”

You want to know what the Jets’ curse really sounds like? Read those 12 words over and over and over again.