But a different feeling consumed me than the usual fury or impetus to throw something at the TV.
A controlled level of disgust came first but soon switched to an uncommon one - apathy.
As Mark Sanchez went face first into a lineman's backside and the turnovers racked up as New England obliterated the Jets before you could digest Thanksgiving dessert, I didn't feel anything.
Have the Jets made me into a football Grinch?
Has my heart shrunk a couple sizes watching this team year after year?
Maybe I've just become desensitized to this type of disaster.
I read a post on a message board tonight that outlined the failure and closed with: "One bright spot is that something good always comes from something bad. And it couldn't get any worse than last night."
As much as I'd like to buy into this notion, I can't. Not with the Jets.
It always "can't get any worse." That's what was said after the 45-3 Monday Night Football catastrophe against the Patriots in 2010. Same for Rex Ryan's self-proclaimed "ass-kicking" at the hands of the 49ers earlier this season.
For the Jets, it always does get worse. That's the root of this newfound apathy.
Don't get me wrong - I don't like it at all. I want to care. But in this lost season I can't bring myself to anymore. I didn't expect the Jets to beat the Patriots,who are absolutely rolling. They're better in every facet of the game and possess a much more talented roster.
What makes no sense is this Jets team very well should have beaten the Patriots in New England two months ago. Thursday night they looked like a pee-wee team trying to compete with NFL players. Touch football players put on better shows in their backyards than the guys in green at MetLife Stadium. Put Mom at quarterback against Uncle Joe and her numbers probably trump those of Sanchez.
But what's the point in caring? At seven losses, playoff hopes are a heartbeat from extinction. That has been a seemingly inevitable descent for weeks now.
There was nothing heartbreaking about the 49-19 whooping. Unlike the first meeting between these two teams, the Jets didn't give you hope then slowly rip it away. This time they just flat out sucked.
Usually I find myself fuming after a bad Jets loss. But when I woke up this morning, it was just a devoid feeling. I had no desire to write a scathing critique. Maybe I've done that too many times this season. It has all been said. When the Jets lose, they get walloped. I've written that blog too many times before this season.
So what has happened to me? I'll call it a reverse Whobilation. The Jets have bought me a one-way ticket to Mount Crumpit with no timetable for return.
By the second quarter Thursday night, it was over. At 21-0, I flicked away to college football. I never do that.
My phone started going off, not a text but a score update, then another. 28-0, then 35-0 - dreadful.
I watched the 45-3 MNF game to the bitter end. Same for the San Francisco drubbing earlier. But this time, I didn't have it in me. It was over and I didn't care to see how bad it could get.
I'm not happy about it. This is a depressing point to reach - that of apathy. By season's end it will probably evaporate. I'll watch this mess play out and get excited again come draft time.
Trust me, I want to care again. Apathy is a lonely feeling, distanced from emotion. It's one I don't want to linger but it doesn't feel fleeting with this team.
It's up to the green and white now. Getting hooked in again isn't difficult. They'll most likely find a way to win against Arizona and show some semblance of respectability. Nights like Thursday make it difficult though to want to bother.
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