This was vintage cruelty from Bill Belichick, undressing Sad Sam Darnold and leaving him naked to the football world as an anxiety-riddled, shell-shocked, panic-stricken mess.
This was Sam Darnold’s nightmare, his personal buttfumble and buttinterception amateur hour.
Darnold (four INTs, one fumble, one safety) played as if he had contracted gangrene in his second game back from mononucleosis, a 33-0 shutout by the Pats.
It was difficult to tell whether he had caught it from his defense or his defense had caught it from him during a disgraceful defeat.
“I’m seeing ghosts,” Darnold was heard to say on the Jets bench.