It’s not often that Jets fans and shameless, unrepentant, Patriots jammies-wearing suckups like myself have ever agreed on anything. But if there’s one thing we can all sign onto, it’s the hugeness of this week’s game.

You almost can’t say enough about how big this game is. It defies the ability of the NFL’s unstoppable hype machine to overhype it, and I think the whole country is on board with it. No sooner had the Jets-Bengals game ended on Thanksgiving night, the leftovers put away and the bathroom giving a good Lysoling than America turned its attention to this game.

Everyone’s talking about it, from the people in the TSA cavity search line to holiday shoppers (“This is MY 'Halo: Reach.' Get your filthy mitts off it or so help me I’ll kill you! But who do you like next week?”) to the Monday Night Football crew. This week’s tedious 49ers-Cardinals game was nothing more than a three-hour infomercial for Pats-Jets.

For once, I’m buying the hype. All of it. People say: “This is the game of the year in the NFL”? Agreed. “There’s a lot riding on this one”? You betcha. “It could determine home field throughout the playoffs”? Roger that. “A crucial game for both teams”? Amen, brother. “It’s another chapter in this storied rivalry”? Sure thi — wait. What?

Excuse me, America. But did you say “rivalry”? Whoa. Now just hold it right there, fellas. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Jets vs. Patriots might be many things, but a “rivalry”? Sorry to bust your bubble, Jets fans. But your club’s history vs. the Pats doesn’t qualify.

Dictionary.com defines “rivalry” as “n. boisterous festivity; merrymaking; celebration,” which I admit makes no sense at all. So I’ll offer my own definition. A rivalry is a fierce competition between equals. With the emphasis on equals. And the Jets haven’t been the Patriots' equals in a generation. Just because the teams play twice (and occasionally three times) a year doesn’t make them rivals. They might be in the same division, but that doesn’t mean they belong in the same conversation.

Not long ago, ESPN.com came up with its “Ultimate Power Rankings,” a historical ranking of all 32 NFL teams according to their overall success as a franchise. The Patriots were 10th. The Jets were 28th. And since one of the few teams behind them, the Saints, are the defending champions, you could argue it’s even worse than that for Gang Green.

Of course, at this point you’re no doubt saying, “But aren’t the Jets one of the hottest teams in football? Aren’t they coming off a trip to the AFC championship game? And didn’t the Patriots get pimp-slapped out of the playoffs last year? What are you, drunk or something?” Well yes, they are. And yes, they did. And yes, I am.

But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about this equality thing. The Patriots are the Team of the Decade. They’ve spent the last 10 years having epic, history-changing, monumental clashes against other champions like the Colts, Steelers and Giants. Those teams have earned the right to be called rivals. They deserve to be talked about as near equals. One failed trip to the AFCCG doesn’t earn the Jets a spot at the cool kids’ table any more than Burkina Faso winning a battle earns it a seat at the United Nations Security Council with the nuclear superpowers. For all we know, the Wonder Twins might have won a fight once, but that doesn’t mean you make them full-fledged members of the SuperFriends like they’re Batman or Superman.

Again, rivalries come from evenly matched opponents. It’s about being on a level playing field. That’s why Alabama plays Auburn in the Iron Bowl, not Alabama State. You can’t take one team’s 40-something record of futility and put it next to pro football’s reigning dynasty and call it a rivalry. Any more than I can say I really have a thing for Kate Beckinsale, therefore her husband and I are rivals. And just because she doesn’t know I exist and he’s rich, good looking, successful and happily married to her doesn’t, to steal Rex Ryan’s line, mean I’m gonna kiss his wedding ring.

Oh, yes, Rex Ryan. I almost forgot. For my money, he’s the perfect coach for the Jets franchise. He’s got just the right blend of bluster, overconfidence and self-congratulation without any real accomplishment that embodies everything the Jets have stood for in my lifetime.

From his opening press conference as HC of the NYJs, Shrex was, to Jets fans and the fawning New York press alike, The Next Big Thing. The savior who would finally lead the team out of the wilderness. Notwithstanding he’s just the latest in a long line of Next Big Things, a line that stretches back through Eric Mangini, Herm Edwards, Chad Pennington, Curtis Martin, Bill Parcells, Rich Kotite, Pete Carroll, Mark Gastineau and on and on. In fact, the line of NBTs goes all the way back to Joe Namath and that same played-out “Guarantee” story from the Sgt. Pepper era they still repeat like a bedtime story because it’s the only real moment of success in the franchise’s sorry history.

In an odd way, I almost like that about the Jets and their fans. Even 40-plus years removed from their last sniff of a championship … while the rest of the division has had periods of out-and-out greatness … they still manage to act like their dynasty is just around the corner. Jets fans are like that guy who combs his hair over and thinks he’s got the rest of us fooled. They’re the Fredo Corleone of the AFC East. “I can handle things! I’m smaaaaht! Not like everybody says! Like dumb! I’m smart and I want respect!” I don’t know, but there’s something almost admirable about the way they’ve managed to delude themselves so much for so long.

I’ll be the first to admit all of this sounds smug and arrogant. But this attitude is a little something I learned growing up in New England. And I learned it, ironically enough, from Jets fans themselves. Or to more to the point, I picked it up from their close, inbred relations, the Yankees fans.

My whole life as a Red Sox diehard I had to put up with the insufferable SOBs. I had to listen to their smarmy, condescending tone while they called Boston sports talk shows, counted their championship rings and snickered whenever anyone mentioned the Sox-Yankees thing. “‘Rivalry?’ Pfft. Are you kidding me, Craig and Larry? It’s not a rivalry. Does a hammer have a rivalry with a nail?” Wretch. And it took a hell of a lot more than one trip to the ALCS to make the miserable wretches stop. It took nothing less than the greatest comeback in the history of pro sports to get them to give respect where it was due.

And for now, the Jets haven’t earned it. They can talk all they want. Their coach can say how he’s built this team to beat the Patriots and win the Super Bowl (as opposed to what? The Grey Cup? Wimbledon mixed doubles? American Idol?) to his heart’s content. And Jets fans can say, as we all are, that this is a huge game coming up. But no one can call it a rivalry until one team actually wins something important.

Follow Jerry on Twitter @jerrythornton1.