|courtesy of SI.com|
Congrats, Mr. Goodell. You’ve succeeded admirably.
As if the Saints and their fans needed any more reason to be purposeful and defiant, you delivered a ready-made platter of all-you-can-eat motivation for 2012. Much appreciated. Allow me to stuff my face.
While it’s become increasingly evident that this ‘bounty’ thing hasn't really worked out the way you planned—no really, you’re being sued for defamation by one of your players—it does have the legitimate capacity to get even more embarrassing for you.
I'm not talking about courtrooms or judge’s verdicts or interpretations of collective bargaining agreements.
I'm talking about New Orleans in February 2013, a place you can’t be eager to visit no matter how unaffected a face you publicly display. You fucked it up, and now you’re faced with potentially looking even more foolish than ever. Surely a tough task, but you've managed it.
So lovely the prospect.
It seems hard to fathom that after the myriad public gaffes orchestrated during your tenure that you could once again raise the bar on looking ridiculous. But be certain, it's in play.
Just imagine this bumbling fool who vacuously purports to defend “integrity” at every turn, this groveling wannabe who luckboxed his way into a dream job, this overmatched sockpuppet who fails to understand the nuance of leadership, ultimately awarding the big prize to a team he attempted to castrate, in the same city where Saints’ zeal outpaces its legendary propensity to indulge.
Just you wait, big guy.
Handing over Lombardi 47 to Drew Brees will be a humiliating, fitting end to your laughable buffoonery.
Much more pleasant is the thought of internationally-televised ridicule than is a largely unheard smattering of localized disdain. The once reactionary hate has fully given way to the gleeful potential for public humiliation. I'm hopefully giddy these days.
Mr. Goodell, I see your scarlet letter and raise you one pair of clown shoes. How’s that work for you?
In case any of you bigshot pundits in the national media are following along, I'm happy to see many of you doubling down on the stupid. Right on message, eh fellas? I'd point out the multitude of idiocy on display via the “failed season” narrative, but that would take too long. Instead, we’ll just use ESPN's Jeffri Chadihi as the embodiment of the fraudulent, condescending, toothless hackery that's ever so prevalent.
Let's all remember that Chadihi already asserted that Mickey Loomis “destroyed [the Saints'] hopes for a successful season.”
I don't know what possibly impregnated Chadihi’s brain with that rotten seed of tragic logic, but it's illustrative of a media unconcerned with paying attention to facts and instead too happy to parrot spoon-fed tales of unfounded legitimacy.
|here we come ...|
to get you ...
I guess Loomis fucked it all up by signing Brees to the biggest contract in NFL history, and saving cap space in the process.
Or replacing one all-pro guard (Nicks) with another one (Grubbs) at a cheaper price.
Or signing away a division rival's best defender (Lofton), bolstering the weakest unit on the team.
Or landing one of the top run-stuffing DTs in the NFL (Bunkley).
Or uncovering promising talent at bargain prices (Hicks, Cadet), a move that's become so routine it's barely noticeable anymore. Am I right, Pierre Thomas, Lance Moore, and Jimmy Graham? What do you think, Jahri Evans? What about you, Chris Ivory?
I guess none of that matters to Jeffri, though. It's not actually about rosters or talent or continuity or leadership or having the most wins in the league for the past three seasons.
Nope, the Saints are screwed.
Jeffri, you and your buddies can take whatever angles you choose, no matter how silly. Just remember there's a delicate balance between your quest for pageviews and your credibility. Then again, you work for ESPN. Credibility doesn't appear to be in the mission statement over there. So hack away, I guess.
Okay ... enough of the petty grudges with the media for the time being. The season is here and the offseason drama and controversies take a backseat to the main event. All that matters now is what happens on the field. On that level playing field, I like the Saints' chances this year.
The “us against the world” thing is a bit passé by now, but hey, it's a reality. No better time than now to embrace it. Storylines abound. There is a legitimate chance for an epic ending to the season; it's the proverbial silver lining amidst the dark offseason clouds. I can't wait for the story to be told.
Lucky are we who call ourselves Saints’ fans.
Being a Who Dat means always having hope and always looking forward to game day, no matter the other troubles in your life. Being a Who Dat means Bloody Marys and beers for Sunday breakfast. Being a Who Dat means selling out the Dome year after year after year, even if the team sucks.
Being a Who Dat means lining up en masse at the airport in the middle of the night to cheer the team's return from a road game. Being a Who Dat means 800,000 people come to the party when your team wins it all. Being a Who Dat means spitting in the face of adversity.
Try as you might, Roger Goodell, you can't take any of that from us.
If there's any justice to be had, a storybook-worthy comeuppance awaits your sorry ass.
As will another legendary party in February 2013.
Game on, bitch.