I hate the New York Giants. Not because they lose games. I hate them because they make choices so obviously wrong that they permanently overinflate my ego. Every time their front office pulls a move any halfway informed fan can see will fail, it makes me think I could walk into an NFL front office and not only survive, but actually improve the roster. That is embarrassing for them and intoxicating for me.

The Barkley Blunder

Let’s start with the clearest example: Saquon Barkley. He leaves town, rips a historic season, and suddenly every “I told you so” lamp in my brain lights up. Barkley led the NFL in rushing in 2024 with 2,005 yards and finished with 2,283 yards from scrimmage. That is not marginal. That is franchise altering.

The fix to keep him relevant was simple. Protect him up front. Add weapons around him so defenses could not load the box. That is how you get mileage out of a generational running back. The Giants didn’t do that. They let a proven elite runner walk and then blinked at the obvious consequence. That’s what bad front offices do.

Paying Russell Wilson for Nothing

Now watch the brass make the same kind of head-scratching decision right in front of our faces. They signed Russell Wilson to a one-year deal worth up to roughly $21 million, with about $10.5 million guaranteed. On paper that was a veteran bridge solution. In practice it became a wallet drain.

Wilson had a decent stretch with Pittsburgh in 2024, throwing for roughly 2,482 yards, 16 touchdowns and five interceptions in 11 games. Those are fine counting stats for a veteran. But they don’t justify handing him millions to be a short-term, inconsistent stopgap when you already had a legitimate veteran in Jameis Winston.

Ignoring Jameis Winston

Let’s be blunt about Winston. He’s not perfect, but in 2024 he started 12 games for Cleveland, throwing for 2,121 yards with 13 touchdowns and 12 interceptions. That’s competent veteran production from someone who knows how to manage an offense.

If your intention is to evaluate a rookie quarterback later in the season, put your best veteran on tape, see what he gives you, then pivot. Don’t pay a premium for another experienced body just to sit him, then scramble when the new set of problems arrives. That is poor roster design.

Benching Wilson for Jaxson Dart

And now the comedy of errors plays out in real time. The Giants started 2025 with Russell Wilson as the opening-week starter, only to bench him after three games and hand the keys to rookie Jaxson Dart. They paid Wilson like he was the answer, then turned around and replaced him with a rookie before October. That is not a plan. That is panic dressed up as pivoting.

Think about the dollars and opportunity cost. Ten million guaranteed to a guy who will now, at best, play three games before getting benched.

Misallocation Everywhere

The knock on Barkley was always “running backs are replaceable.” Fine. But when Barkley turned into a 2,000-yard rusher, replaceable is no longer the right frame. He became a cornerstone piece and the Giants should have treated him as such. Instead they spent money on a veteran quarterback whose role they never committed to, then hired more short-term band-aids. That’s how organizations fall into cycles of mediocrity.

If your front office makes moves this glaring, your internal review process is broken. Either your scouting department is lying to you or the decision makers ignore them. You don’t sign a veteran bridge at significant guaranteed cost when you already have a veteran capable of starting and you plan to draft a quarterback high. That is textbook misallocation of resources.

The Result: More Losses

Let’s also be honest about outcomes. The Giants finished 3–14 in 2024. Their offense ranked near the bottom in points per game and their roster construction looked like it was missing identity and coherence. You can mask that with feel-good press conferences and selective highlight reels, but not with dollars and roster churn. Bad decisions compound into bad seasons.

My Playbook Would Be Better

This isn’t about hating a franchise for sport. It’s about holding them to a basic standard of competence. When a team makes moves so transparently bad that it convinces a non–front office guy that he could do better, you’ve failed the fan base, the players, and the long-term plan.

If I were running their office I would have kept Barkley, protected him up front, loaded the receiving corps, and treated the quarterback room like a long-term investment, not a series of short-term celebrity experiments. I wouldn’t have paid Wilson a seven-figure guaranteed number to be an interim spectacle while Jaxson Dart waited in the wings. I would have given Winston a fair look, evaluated the rookie in a development plan, and kept the spending efficient.

Bottom Line

Until they stop treating roster management like a reality TV casting call, the Giants will keep giving me reasons to think I could do their job. I hate that. Mostly because I’d rather spend my energy enjoying wins. But every time they make another predictable mistake, I get a little more convinced that running an NFL team isn’t as complicated as they make it look.

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