Blubber: 1. n., Excess body fat; 2. v., To weep noisily and without restraint.

FOXBORO — Jets coach Cryin’ Rex Ryan is 300-plus pounds of blubber.

The big fella is a big baby.

He shed tears of joy when he was presented with a game ball after the Jets’ season-opening victory at Houston in his first game as an NFL head coach.

Then, last Monday, his emotions — and tear ducts — again overflowed when he was talking to his team about its rematch with the Patriots, telling his players how much he believed in them even though they’d just lost at home to Jacksonville, 24-22.

That was the Jets’ fifth loss in six games, after having started the season 3-0, including a 16-9 win over New England at the Meadowlands in Week Two.

While it’s nice to know that Ryan is a man in touch with his feelings, his Jets had best not get all choked up Sunday at Gillette Stadium or it’ll be cryin’ time for the remainder of what will be a lost season.

Patriots quarterback Tom Brady was wide-eyed last week on the subject of Ryan getting all teary-eyed.

“I can’t imagine coach (Bill) Belichick ever doing that in front of us,” Brady said.

Steely-eyed? Absolutely. Teary-eyed? Belichick? Not a chance. The guy’s about as sentimental as a firing squad.

It’s almost as hard to imagine Belichick being weepy as it is Brady and the Patriots being swept by the J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets and their struggling rookie QB, Mark Sanchez — especially at home, where the P-A-T-S, Pats, Pats, Pats should have a distinct advantage.

The Patriots could enhance that home-field advantage with creative use of their sound system to shake and rattle their visitors from north Jersey, then roll over them.

Just as Brady has his list of plays for Sunday’s game, the guy who spins the tunes should have his own playlist.

The late Bill Walsh, when he was winning Super Bowls in San Francisco, used to script the Niners’ first 15 offensive plays. The Patriots’ music Sunday should be similarly scripted, with tunes specially selected to bring a tear to Ryan’s eye.

Have the Jets come on to the field to the strains of Roy Orbison’s “Crying.”

Then cue up “Emotion,” by the Bee Gees: “Cry me a river, that leads to your ocean.”

Next, a little Leslie Gore: “It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to. You would cry, too, if it happened to you.”

What happened to the Patriots last Sunday in Indianapolis was enough to make a grown Pats fan cry, as they let a 31-14 lead in the fourth quarter turn into a devastating 35-34 defeat.

But the Pats have to put that behind them. No use crying over spilled milk. Leave that to Ryan and the Jets.

More songs: How about Smoky Robinson back-to-back — “Tears of a Clown,” followed by “Tracks of My Tears?”

Segue into Hank Williams’ country classic, “There’s a Tear in My Beer.” Can’t you hear Hank’s twang: “I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but my tears I can’t hide?”

What’s with the tears, anyway?

Jimmy Dugan, manager of the Rockford Peaches in the sports-moved classic “A League of Their Own,” declared emphatically — if not exactly sympathetically: “There’s no crying in baseball! Rogers Hornsby was my manager, and he called me a pile of pig (dung). And that was when my parents drove all the way down from Michigan to see me play. And did I cry?

“No! And do you know why? Because there’s no crying in baseball!”

But there is, apparently, in football.

Dick Vermeil, who won an NFC title with the Eagles, and a Super Bowl with the Rams, was, like Ryan, a lachrymose sort. The Patriots have had a couple of coaches who, at times, bordered on the comatose, but at least they never were lachrymose.

Big boys don’t cry — “I’m Not in Love,” by 10CC — but the approximately 330-pound Ryan apparently doesn’t subscribe to that philosophy.

“Anybody that’s ever been around me knows that’s the way I am,” Ryan said last week, drawing laughs from New York writers when he brought a Kleenex box to the podium for his news conference.

“I’m an emotional guy. I’m a passionate person. But my main message is that ... I believe in myself and I believe in this football team. Nobody else does right now, but we believe in each other.”

I believe it’s time to crank up Little Anthony and the Imperials singing “Tears on my pillow, pain in my heart, caused by you.”

And a little Janis Joplin: “I know you got more tears to share, so come on, come on, come on, and cry, cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.”

It’s time, for crying out loud, for the Jets and Patriots to play.

So break out your handkerchiefs and get ready for The Crying Game.

jdonalds@projo.com