There are two mandates now for the 2014 Giants as they begin Life After Victor Cruz:
No. 1: Shut up and play, a reminder hammered home to them in no uncertain terms Monday by Tom (Talk Is Cheap, Play the Game) Coughlin.
“I’ve been here for 11 years and you guys know we let our play do the talking,” one player told The Post when paraphrasing Coughlin’s stern message on Blue Monday following Eagles 27, Giants 0. “We’re a classy organization.”
No. 2: Fight for the rest of the season, and immediately, Sunday in Dallas against the 5-1 Cowboys, the way Cruz would have fought, and honor him that way.
“It’s better to go out and to play harder in the spirit of that player that went down instead of hanging your head and taking a beating. Because I know when I went down, the only thing I wanted those guys to do was to go out and fight just as hard as I was when I went down both times,” Mathias Kiwanuka said. “I understand mentally where he’s at and how much he wants to get back, but in the meantime we have to do our part and fight for him. … You don’t know how much time you have to play this game. … While you have the opportunity, you gotta make the most out of it.”
The Giants last week engaged the Eagles in trash talk and Coughlin thought it was garbage.
“First of all, that’s not the kind of organization that this is,” Kiwanuka said. “From the very beginning, this has been a first-class organization. Coughlin’s always tried to run a tight ship, especially when it comes to respecting your opponent, and never do anything to cast a negative light on this organization. We get it, we understand it, we’ll move on from it.”
Unfortunately, they move on from it without Captain Cruz.
“I think this was a humbling experience for all of us,” Kiwanuka said. “We’ve had a lot of meetings today, and it’s been reiterated to us that it didn’t get us a win, it wasn’t anything that helped, so we have to focus all of our energy and our efforts on only doing things that are gonna help us win. I can’t speak for any other individuals here, but I feel like as a group, we understand the message that we received today.”
Cruz overcame the suicide of his beloved father and chased down his NFL dream anyway.
He overcame all the NFL doubters who didn’t think he was big enough or fast enough or skilled enough to be drafted.
He refused to believe in anything other than himself and danced his way into the hearts of Giants Nation with an endearing salsa that he told us was a tribute to his late grandmother, Lucy Molina.
He has been one of the wonderful rags-to-riches story in all of professional sports. He became Eli Manning’s favorite target, an explosive playmaker who ignited the Giants’ Super Bowl XLVI run with that 99-yard catch and run against the Jets; he got to perform his salsa in the Super Bowl against the Patriots; he got to hoist the Lombardi Trophy and stand on a float riding up the Canyon of Heroes.
He became a GQ fashion plate, his charismatic smile and magnetic personality infectious, and Madison Avenue couldn’t help but notice.
He became a father, couldn’t stop glowing after his daughter, Kennedy, was born 2 ¹/₂ years ago.
His loss is a terrible one, on the field and in the locker room, and it leaves a giant hole in the team’s heart. “Next man up” means Preston Parker, Corey Washington and Odell Beckham Jr. taking on bigger roles. It is a harsh reality of NFL life that all teams must brace themselves for and inevitably endure. “He will be missed,” Kiwanuka said.
At least Someone Up There must like Cruz.
Because there are plenty of rags-to-riches stories, particularly in a game as ligament- and cartilage-cruel as the NFL, that never truly advance to the riches stage. The NFL assembly line will chew you up and spit you out, no matter who you are, at a moment’s notice, on any given Sunday, without mercy.
Cruz is a cautionary tale for the likes of Muhammad Wilkerson, still waiting to land that monster contract.
Cruz was one of the lucky ones. Before the 2013 training camp, he signed a six-year, $46 million extension with the hometown team that gave its Jersey Guy a chance — with $15.625 million fully guaranteed. And as too many of its former gladiators know only too well, fully guaranteed is the only guarantee an NFL player gets from his employer.
The sight of Cruz sobbing inconsolably as he was carted off the field at the Linc on Sunday night — his right patellar tendon torn, his season over, his future a mist at age 28 next month — was heartbreaking. The football gods can snap their fingers and decide on a whim that it is over for you. You need look no further than David Wilson, forced to tearfully retire with a neck injury only two seasons after the Giants drafted him in the first round.
“You just hate it for Victor ’cause he loves to play the game,” Manning said. “I feel for him.”
“He’s been challenged his whole life, I don’t see him backing down from any challenge whatsoever,” Coughlin said.
Cruz loves being a Giant, plays for the love of the game. It may not be much consolation for him today after surgery, but when the heartbreak begins to wear off, at least he will know he and his family will have been taken care of.