A little late, but here's some commentary on the West Side Stadium.

I hope that when urban policy wonks write their case studies of this episode, they pay attention to the distinctive nature of the New York Jets as a virtually worthless sports franchise.

I think if the Jets are to New York what the Redskins are to Washington, D.C., the stadium has a far better shot. The Jets were never able to tap into what drives so many of these civic pride-based stadium projects: emotion. I think if the Yankees really wanted a new baseball stadium, they'd also have a much better chance.

When the campaign first began, it was for a stadium for the Jets (and the Olympics, but New Yorkers aren't fooled). As the campaign evolved, the focus blurred and started positioning the project as a stadium-and-convention-center. One of the slogans was even "not just a stadium" (or something like that).

And the Jets, while they've had their bad seasons, aren't so bad these days. They went 10-6 last year and had a good playoff run the year before. It's just that this never converts into true local excitement. The Jets have never become New York's, always the orphan, faded by years of generic play, first at Shea and then somewhere out there by the Turnpike across the river. When you think of the typical Jets moment, you don't think of the game-winning touchdown; you think of the fumble on the other team's 5-yard line, squandering the chance to tie.

And who deserves blame for this? The Jets. Who else? The Yankees and Mets know the value of civic pride. Even the Knicks and Rangers, after several dreadful seasons, have more than their share of feel-good charity and community work and are always emphasizing their efforts in this area. All the Jets wanted from the city was a huge handout. The rejection of this request is the biggest game-winning touchdown of all.