Dear John:

Happy New Year, first of all. Mercifully, it won’t be long before everyone starts talking about the franchise’s 101-year anniversary.

I know how painful the past decade or so has been for you. This is the family business, and you have presided over a failing business. Those four Lombardi Trophies in the glᴀss case that you walk past every day inside 1925 Giants Drive must seem to you like a haunting reminder of the good old days of Parcells and LT and Simms and Carson and Coughlin and Eli and Strahan.

Only two years ago, you were on Cloud 9 believing that the modern-day wilderness years had come to an end after your first playoff win in 11 years in Minnesota. You said to hell with the Giants Way and went outside to hire Joe Schoen and Brian Daboll and finally you could look in the mirror and tell yourself: “You got it right, kid.”