Those lovable Ryans. For Mel

My long time Harley brother, and all around amigo Mel is a former New Yorker that became a Floridian a while back. But he remains a die-hard NY Jets fan. While chatting with him earlier, Mel was bummed that his beloved Jets had fallen to the previous winless Pittsburgh Steelers. And, of course, the name Ryan came up.

That would be Rex Ryan, the head coach of the Jets. This particular Ryan is really tough to figure out. One week he comes across as a serious professional head football coach that is guiding his team in the right direction. The next week one might see him in a press conference wearing a Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm blond wig (Vince Lombardi would be so proud), and yukking it up with the reporters -- after yet another disappointing loss -- and all the while appearing clueless. Either way, one thing is for sure. Between Rex and his twin brother Rob, the football Ryans are media magnets. The TV folks just can't seem to get another of them.

I think it started with their father, Buddy. NFL old-schoolers like yours truly can remember the 1985 version of the Chicago Bears. They were awesome and would go on to crush the New England Patriots in the Super Bowl. Amongst others, that team featured players like Jim McMahon, Mike Singletary, William "the refrigerator" Perry, and the late Walter Payton, arguably one of the best running backs in the history of the NFL.

Buddy Ryan was the head coach, right? Wrong. That was Mike Ditka. Buddy was only the defensive coordinator, but all we ever heard about back then was Ryan's vaunted 46 defense, and the TV cameras continually zoomed in on him along the sidelines. One would have thought Buddy was in charge. He wasn't.

Much the same has applied in the last few years when it comes to Rob Ryan. Though he evidently inherited the Ryan "flair for the dramatic" gene, his track record as an NFL defensive coordinator leaves a lot to be desired -- to put it mildly. Through stints with the Oakland Raiders, Cleveland Browns, and more recently a couple years in Dallas -- his defensive schemes have seemed akin to the proverbial screen door on a submarine. Not good.

But Rob ranted, cursed, and threw in more gestures than Marcel Marceau while on the sidelines for the Cowboys from 2011-2012. Obviously, he was in charge, right? Wrong again. He was just a defensive coordinator like his daddy. The real head coach was, and still is Jason Garrett. But we never got to see JG because the cameras were always so busy zooming in on Ryan.

Jerry Jones, the also ever-lovable owner of the Cowboys (who BTW, yours truly considers to be just a tad less oilier than your average Texas gusher), would eventually see through the charade, and Ryan was canned yet again. At the time, Rob defiantly proclaimed he'd have another job in 5 minutes. Not quite. It would take months.

Incredibly, this Ryan would land in another rose garden -- that being New Orleans. After the whole "Bountygate" fiasco, which resulted in head coach Sean Payton and former defensive coordinator Gregg Williams being suspended for an entire year -- things were in turmoil in the Big Easy. Williams attempted to pull a Pete Carroll and bail for greener pastures in St. Louis as their defensive coordinator, but when the Rams got wind of Williams' involvement in Bountygate, he was kicked to the curb before ever working a day on the job. He now finds himself as merely a defensive "assistant" for the Tennessee Titans. This is like going from a superintendent to a clerk. Ouch.

However, head coach Sean Payton is back and the Saints seemed to have regained their old fire. They were undefeated. This Payton, much like the aforementioned Walter, is the real deal. The man is a helluva head coach. So why -- tell me WHY -- would a smart guy like Sean Payton hire Rob Ryan as his defensive coordinator?

And look what's happened. Nobody sees Sean Payton anymore. The cameras are zoomed in on a Ryan again. See Rob pace. See Rob curse and gesture wildly. See Rob pump his fists in triumph as the Saints are about to knock off the Patriots. See Rob quickly disappear after his bone-headed defensive schemes allowed Tom Brady and the Pats to rally for the winning touchdown with only seconds remaining in the game.

Unlike his brother, you won't see Rob at a press conference. He doesn't have to face the hard questions from those pesky reporters. Never has.

But next week -- I flat-out guarantee you'll see a lot more of him on the sidelines.

They're certainly different from the Mannings -- another well known football family. Daddy Archie wasn't all that in his years with the Saints, but a couple of his boys seem to have done rather well. Peyton and Eli have both won Super Bowls. The other brother Cooper -- not so good. But hey, like the immortal recording artist Meatloaf once crooned -- two out of three ain't bad. And at least they PLAYED.

I don't know what it is about these Ryans, but they always seem to draw a lot of attention even when they're second-fiddle -- and sometimes not doing a very good job of it at that.

Consider the name itself. Ryan. A guy named Nolan racked up a lot of strikeouts, but he never won anything. A couple years ago a politician named Paul was on a Presidential ticket that got crushed, but there are those that still think he's some sort of financial wizard. There was even a soap opera named Ryan's Hope. Never having seen it, I have no idea what that poor devil was hoping for. But if he was anything like the other Ryans, I'd venture a guess he had his fingers crossed hoping for another job once his current gig got deep-sixed.

Ryan this, Ryan that. I've had it with Ryans.

Except for one. She was special.

Irene Ryan. No, she never had a 100 MPH fastball, nor patrolled the sidelines in NFL games. And to my knowledge wasn't much into politics.

She had a much more important role to fill. Granny Clampett on the Beverly Hillbillies. Buddy, Rex, Rob, Nolan, Paul, the soap opera guy, and countless other Ryans come and go.

But there will only ever be one Granny. Bless your heart, Daisy Moses, wherever you are. The only thing better would have been if you'd made a few of these Ryans cut their own switches and taken them to the woodshed along with Jethro.

Because this started off about Mel, it should probably finish on a related note.

While your Michigan bro just expressed his concerns about the name Ryan, perhaps you should remain wary of a single name yourself.

Megan. How many of those is enough? lol