Well, here I am, an author once again. Some of you tried to run me out of town, break my will, stomp on my spirit, say I shouldn't do this and shouldn't do that.

Guess what. It didn't work. So for all you guys who knocked my book, who said that I got "bad advice" to write it, that it was "wrong" to do as a rookie, and anyone else who had a problem with me saying the truth, what I believed in, well ... I'm back. But this time my team is in the playoffs and there's no happier person on this earth about that. And, oh yeah, I made the Pro Bowl, too.

Credit Bill Parcells for both accomplishments. He made me a better receiver and put me in a position to succeed. More important, he made the Jets a better team by being willing to put up with all of us. And credit us for being willing to put up with Bill Parcells. He's as tough as they come, but players listen to him -- high-level players like we have -- because we know we'll win if we do.

And yet it's funny, every time I get on a conference call with writers who cover other teams, the first question they ask is about my relationship with Parcells. "How can you two get along?" they ask. They must not know what type of player I am and what kind of person he likes. They must think I don't practice hard or at full speed and that Coach Bill is looking for guys with no pizzazz. Hell, Parcells has always coached guys with strong personalities: Phil Simms, Lawrence Taylor, Bryan Cox. He's even coached "She." (Just kidding, Terry Glenn. Get well soon.)

Because of Parcells, I know more about defenses and players and what coaches are trying to do in different offensive situations to help us win. I know how to get open faster. All that came from him and our wide receivers coaches, Todd Haley and Charlie Weis.

Everyone keeps yapping about this being a "breakout" year for me. This is no breakout year. This is a good year, true, and I'm thrilled as hell about making the Pro Bowl team. Parcells walked into our morning offensive meeting on Dec. 16 and calmly announced that me, Vinny Testaverde, Aaron Glenn and Mo Lewis made the team. A big grin came to my face as all the guys started congratulating us. Everyone was real cool. It's those guys I play alongside who got me there, especially our three quarterbacks -- Vinny, Glenn Foley and Ray Lucas. I'm buying those guys Rolex watches. Nice ones, too. They're the guys who drill me in practice, and they're the guys who get me the ball. We know that's important.

Making the Pro Bowl is a real honor because I know it was the players on teams we play against who voted for me, and they didn't make playing against them easy. To be recognized like this, to be going to Hawaii alongside a lot of future Hall of Fame players -- well, like Aaron Glenn said when he was first voted in, "It's a feeling I wish everyone who played professional football could experience."

So, yes, it's been a wonderful year. But you know what? I'm really doing about the same thing this year that I've done since I got here. Look at the numbers: In the 13 full games I played in during my rookie year, I caught 62 passes for 794 yards and eight touchdowns. Last year, I caught 70 passes for 963 yards and scored five touchdowns. This year, through the first 15 games, I've caught 77 passes for 1,056 yards and nine touchdowns. Oh yeah, two rushes -- 60 yards -- for one touchdown. They say I can't run, either.

And yet everyone wants to say I've "matured" as a player. To me that's a slap in my face. That's like saying I didn't do anything the last two years. The difference, I know, is that this year my numbers count for something, because we're winning. Still, I don't remember anybody talking about my willingness to block my first two years here, either. Hell, I was one of our best blockers in college. But nobody here even saw it until Parcells mentioned it, and it sounds like I just started doing it. But people have got to find something to talk about. There's nothing to criticize me for anymore so they decide that they've got to say I've "matured." That makes me laugh.

And actually, they still do have something to get on me for -- the book that won't die. I can hardly do an interview without someone bringing it up. I get Chris Berman yelling, "Give him the damn ball!" on our highlights. That makes me laugh too. And it's funny how the media are still trying to create this big "Odd Couple" picture of me and Wayne Chrebet. It's not exactly creative, but they can't think of any other way to spin it. They say I'm the guy in the Armani suits sitting courtside in the $1,000 seats at the Knicks game and Chrebet is the guy in jeans eating ice cream on Sunday with his girlfriend. You know what that means? That means I happen to like suits and good seats for a basketball game that I can afford, and that Wayne Chrebet happens to like ice cream on Sundays. It's not some deep, probing look into the souls of who we are. It's ice cream and basketball. Period. And for the record, I like ice cream and Wayne likes basketball, too. Even good seats.

And so what if I was harsh on Chrebet in the book? I was harsh on a lot of people that year. When you're 1-15 there aren't a lot of nice things to say. Trust me. Everyone said that by writing what really went on and how I felt, that I was destroying team chemistry. What team chemistry? If we'd had team chemistry that year we wouldn't have been 1–15. They said that criticizing teammates went against the grain of what teams are about. Hell, I think losing 15 games went against the grain of what teams are about. And what was I supposed to do, lie and say, "Gosh, we all really tried but, gee, we just couldn't get it done"? (Maybe Peyton Manning's book will say that.)

What really got me steamed was some guy at WFAN whose name I can't remember had the nerve to say on the radio that "Nobody cares that you were 11 years old and living in a car. You bashed your teammates." You tell my mother that and listen to what kind of lessons she can teach you about what you should care about.

But let me say this now loud and clear: Wayne Chrebet has done some wonderful things on the field this year to help us get to where we are. He's doing well for what he's asked to do, for the situations he's being put in, and Parcells has set up our offense to get the most out of the people we have. I have no problem with Wayne Chrebet the person. Do I want the balls he gets? Of course. I'm a selfish player, and I'm always going to be selfish, because I know that if I'm getting the ball and playing good, then it's going to help the team. I learned that from Parcells too. He must have said it 100 times already this season: "I'm selfish. I do what is going to help me win." He told that to Vinny when Vinny first got here. Parcells started with Foley, but he told them both he'd play whoever could give him the win.

Besides, I'm saving my player-hater energy for the guys I have to battle every week -- the top heat, Pro Bowl corners I draw every single Sunday. Guys like Shawn Springs, Ray Buchanan, Ty Law and Terrell Buckley. Those are the guys I save my strength to fight. And let me tell you, the battles have been fierce. Because those are the guys who cover me, someone else is allowed to succeed, which is fine, but that means double trouble for me. I've got to fight double to succeed, something I've done my entire life. Wherever I go, those guys go. I go in motion, they go with me. But it's working and I'm happy about that. Go ahead, put three guys on me. Talk all the trash you want. I'm still going to hurt you on Sunday. Catching, decoying, blocking equals wins.

And even though we're about through with the regular season, right now I feel like I'm in the best condition of my life. Everyone was on me last spring for not being at every single one of Bill Parcells' off-season workouts. But I don't need to be babysat. Parcells knows and I know what I have to do to be ready when the season begins. And I worked out as hard as I've ever worked out, running the stairs in Santa Monica when I was in L.A., and killing myself in New York with our strength coach, Jon Lott. When Parcells came to our team after my rookie season I was 220-plus pounds. Now I'm down to under 215 and I've been able to stay healthy and strong.

I know that off-season workouts can help team chemistry, but I've got to think about life after football, and I take care of a lot of business during the off-season. So many athletes fail after football, and I'm not about to become one of them. Anyway, I'll probably stay around more now that I don't have a wedding to worry about and a wife trying to finish her last semester at USC while raising our daughter. My off-field life is a lot different this season too. Shikiri and I have two kids now, and we're all together in New York. There's not much time to do anything but play football and change diapers. Life is good.

But there are still people who don't want to see me succeed. It hurts them whenever I catch a pass or throw a great block. They even say I'm not liked in my own locker room. Really? Go ask my teammates, guys like Kevin Mawae, Jumbo Elliott and Keith Byars, older veterans who won't sugarcoat a thing. They'll tell you about who's liked. Then you'll know a lot more about me. I've played under this kind of messed-up media scrutiny at a high level for three straight seasons. I took on the New York pressure that has run other guys out of town. I've held my own and I'm holding my own now, and I ain't never gonna crack.

So let's dance.

We should have wrapped this thing up a while ago. We never, ever should have lost to the Rams. That game made me sick. Throw Indianapolis and Baltimore in that category too. But at least we now seem to have things working. I don't see any reason we can't go far. Why not us? Why not the Jets? Why not Jets fans?

What I know is that we're in it now and I can't wait. Parcells pulled me aside a couple of weeks ago and told me something that's stuck in my head ever since. He said that in all my career, this might be the only chance I get to contend for the big dance. I might never again get the opportunity. I know he's right. Football isn't forever and nothing is promised. That's why we'll be going full-out, bringing out all the heavy artillery. It's going to get crazy and it's going to be a lot of fun.

One other thing I know. If we want to win, just give me the ... well, you know the rest.

This article appears in the January 11, 1999 issue of ESPN The Magazine.