Will Tim Tebow Trade Orange-N-Blue for Black-N-Gold? How Sweet It Would Be

We’ve all heard the arguments from his detractors (mostly unemployed NFL coaches like Brian Billick or NFL draft gurus who spend a lot of time primping their hair or the beer-bellies in the cheap seats).

He doesn’t take snaps from under center, they say.

His throwing motion is too long, they say.

He drops the ball too low on his delivery, they say.

His arm strength is not great, they say.

His running style won’t work, they say.

And I suppose this is somewhat understandable. If Tim Tebow has beaten your team’s brains out the past four years. If you’re not good enough to beat him on the field, well, then, your only recourse is to say he’s not an NFL quarterback. And then you can return to your miserable job on Monday morning feeling a little better about yourself.

For those of us fortunate enough to witness his extraordinary performance Friday night in the Sugar Bowl, any lingering doubts surrounding his ability as a successful NFL quarterback were promptly assuaged.

It was the finest QB performance seen in Sugar Bowl history since Michael Vick’s magic show in a losing effort to Florida State in 2000.

533 total yards. 382 passing yards. 51 rushing yards. He must be suffering from writer’s cramp after rewriting all those record books.

“When it comes to Tim Tebow there are two different types of people,” said WGSO’s Kenny Trahan this week on New Orleans radio’s best radio sports talk show.

“You either love him…and the other people don’t hate him, they’re just jealous or envious of him for all the attention he has received, and those are the people who take shots at him and try to put him down and say he’s not going to make it and analyze everything and I think there is a degree of envy and jealousy there.”

Envy and jealousy. The evil twins.

And it is a shame considering the young man represents everything that is good and decent and right about the game on and off the field.

For those with a hidden agenda regarding Tebow, this column isn’t for you.

Go read about cheerleaders or how everything is hunky-dory with the New Orleans Saints run defense.

Life must be nice on Fantasy Island.

Among those without an axe to grind, there is a growing consensus that if Tebow is fortunate enough to land in the right situation (New England or New Orleans, for example) and can sit for a couple of years as he learns the finer points of the game under a Brady or Brees or Manning, he has a chance to prosper as an NFL starting quarterback, a la Green Bay’s Aaron Rodgers.

ABC 26 Sports Director Ed Daniels said Saturday morning, “Can he (Tebow) play in the National Football League? I think he can but I think the one thing he needs to do is be in a situation where he’s not asked to really play quarterback in the NFL for a year or two.

“I think he’s got to learn to play the NFL game. At Florida, he worked out of the shotgun. He’s not, 3-5 and 7 step drop. He’s got to learn how to do that. He’s got to shorten his motion. He’s got to learn to throw it into tight windows.

“Can he learn all these things? Absolutely yes,” said Daniels.

Added Trahan, “No one is a more determined and a harder worker than he is. You won’t find a more positive guy and understandably this is a guy somebody is going to take a chance on because of his incredible character and work ethic.”

Similar sentiments were expressed not too many years ago about a QB named Drew Brees at the conclusion of his brilliant collegiate career at Purdue.

If you buy into the logic of Tebow’s detractors (an angry, sad, bitter lot), Drew Brees would have never been given the chance to start in the NFL; too short, lacks a strong arm, throws the ball with a low trajectory.

And what about Archie Manning? He threw side-armed, didn’t he? And Fran Tarkenton was vertically challenged at a little under six feet. Billy Kilmer threw a wobbly ball. Dan Marino couldn’t move. And Joe Montana lacked proper mechanics and a gun for an arm.

The Score Takes Care of Itself Jack!

As for Tebow, he said before leaving the Superdome field on Friday night that all he wants is a chance to play the position he’s dreamed of playing since he was a kid.

“I hope that I just get the opportunity and the chance to play quarterback at the next level. It’s been my goal since I was a little boy and I’m working extremely hard at achieving that goal.”

After watching Mark Brunell’s woeful performance on Sunday against Carolina, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to Tebow’s just two nights earlier in a 52-24 thrashing of previously undefeated Cincinnati in New Orleans; and dream about this young Kenny Stabler donning the black-n-gold as Brees’ understudy in 2010.

Tebow’s critics be damned. Fools, every last one of them.

As per the late great Bill Walsh, the score takes care of itself for those who have paid the price. Time will tell and time is on Tebow’s side.

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

This Ain’t The Dome Patrol: Saints “D” Offensive

The late San Francisco 49ers Head Coach Bill Walsh was fond of telling the story of how his team was trailing the New Orleans Saints 35-7 at halftime.

This was Bill Walsh and Joe Montana: The Early Years.

They were just on the verge of terrorizing the NFL for the next decade.

He told his team that he didn’t care if they lost. He told them they probably would lose. He said what he did care about is how they lost. 

The 49ers staged a dramatic comeback that day to win, 38-35, on Dec. 7, 1980, leaving the Saints to sit on the Dock of the Bay wondering what might have been.

Safe to say, Walsh would be concerned about how these New Orleans Saints are losing.

The Saints Dome Patrol Defense of the late 80’s and early 90’s featuring Rickey Jackson, Sam Mills, Vaughn Johnson and Pat Swilling rarely, if ever, lost games because they got whipped physically at the point of attack.

They were too tough. Had too much pride.

Gregg’s boys are getting manhandled by average talent. Defenses that lack a core seldom win Super Bowls. If this continues, Sean Payton should ask Williams for his money back.

The Saints slide began after they forced the Patriots to toss in their hand with five minutes to go at the Superdome.

The following week Jason Campbell, a beleagured quarterback of a beleagured team coached by an emasculated guy, gashed the Saints’ secondary for a career-high 367 yards passing and three touchdowns. New Orleans failed to sack the sack-prone Campbell once.

Then, again, it has not been extraordinary for ordinary players to have “career” days on the Saints over the years.

ATTACK! ATTACK! ATTACK! will be our battle cry season

The Saints pulled it out in overtime but it was their worse defensive performance of the year. Shabby tackling, surrendering long runs up the middle and Malcolm Jenkins getting beat like John Bonham’s drums were the defensive signatures of the afternoon.

Some media talking heads blamed it all on it being a trap game following the monumental win over New England. However, the trend continued the following week against Atlanta and against a former insurance man no less, Chris Redman.

I have a new found respect for insurance agents and even sent mine a Christmas card this year and included a warm note saying that I truly feel that I am in good hands – as the company slogan says-and, then, the bastard raised my rates.

Redman played the game of his life in a losing effort. He picked up where Campbell left off passing for 303 yards and moving the ball at will against a toothless Saints “D.” They rarely managed to get pressure on Redman and sacked him only once.

Name an insurance agent who deserves that kind of treatment.

Was is it rain that destroyed your home or wind-driven rain? There’s a difference. According to your policy…..blah, blah blah

To add insult to injury, some guy named Weems averaged nine yards a carry. Not LT or DeAngelo or Cadillac…..Weems!!!

Next up was Dallas in front the whole damned nation. Tony Romo passed and Marion Barber gashed and the Cowboys sliced and diced and the Saints suffered their first loss of the season.

Dallas columnist Tim Cowlishaw wrote before the game:

“New Orleans had a three-game stretch in which the defense gave up 149 yards rushing to Carolina’s DeAngelo Williams, 151 to Atlanta’s Michael Turner and 131 to the Rams’ Stephen Jackson.

We all know and we have talked and written too much about the Cowboys’ three-headed monster at running back. Mostly it has turned out to be two heads and not so monstrous.

If ever a night was created for Felix Jones to demonstrate why he was a first-round steal in 2008, this is it.”

Jones averaged four yards a carry and Barber ran tough, scoring two touchdowns. Romo passed for 294 yards, completing passes to nine different targets along the way.

Yesterday was more of the same. The Bucs rushed for 176 yards. Cadillac Williams led the way with 129, his first 100 yard game in three years.

By the time Saints fans had made their way to the French Quarter to drown their sorrows, one of the league’s worst offenses, led by a 21 year-old rookie quarterback, had made the New Orleans defense look- what’s the word all those ESPN guys use these days? Putrid?

Yeah, putrid. Named after Putridus the Ancient someone said at Pat O’ Brien’s.

Can you imagine that happening to Rickey Jackson and Sam Mills and Vaugh Johnson and Pat Swilling?

Freeman would have soiled his underpants against those guys.

I saw Rickey Jackson a few weeks ago and I freely admit that I soiled my understands. The guy still scares the hell out of me and all he did was say hello.

Jonathan Vilma said he isn’t concerned by the Saints recent offensive defense.

O.K. Jonathan, I want you in my poker game too.

Drew Brees knows better.

Champions see opportunity where others see misfortune.

Brees is a champion. He knows defeating the smokin’ Carolina Panthers will be no easy task but he also knows what better way to regain squandered momentum than beating one of the league’s hottest.

However, that won’t happen unless the Saints defense shows some resolve.

A little fire and brimstone if you will.

Maybe Tom Benson needs to fly in the Chaplain of Bourbon Street to light a fire under the boys since Gregg Williams speeches don’t seem to be working these days.

With one regular season to go, the Saints “D” strikes fear in no one’s heart but the team’s fans.

 

 

 

 

 

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You Can’t Predict a Hero Under a New Orleans Voodoo Moon

“They call you lady luck,

But there is room for doubt,

At times you’ve had a very unlady like way of running out.”

-Frank Sinatra/Chrissie Hynde

Lady luck ran out after 13 games.

On a Saturday night, no less.

Ruined a great Saturday night party on Bourbon Street, no less.

Against the Dallas Cowboys, no less.

At the hands of Tony Romo, no less.

Who hangs out with the likes of Tiger Woods, no less.

Alas, they say you can never predict a hero, especially under one of those voodoo moons in New Orleans.

Who will it be this time? Who will be the one that stares down the face of defeat and leads the Saints back on the path to the Promised Land?

There has been no shortage of conquering heroes clad in black and gold this year.

And so who will it be on Sunday?

Mike Bell? He doesn’t have what it takes. He’s a fumbler, or he’s not mentally tough, they said.

Darren Sharper? His best days are behind him. He’s too old, he’s lost a step, or he can’t make plays on the ball anymore, they said.

Marques Colston? A seventh round draft pick. He’s too slow, he played at Hofstra, or he’s not ready for the primetime, they said.

Roman Harper? Another wasted high-draft pick, they said.

 

“You’re just hangin out in a local bar,

And you’re wonderin who the hell you are?

Are you a bum or are you a star?”

I related the story of these 2009 Saints to an elderly monsignor who lives out most of his days in a heavily sedated state.  He really couldn’t give a bloody hoot about the NFL or the Saints or home-field advantage or any of that crap. He replied:

“Young man, that’s a great story! That’s a terrific story! But is it true?”

And I said, “Oh monsignor, even I couldn’t make up a story like that.”

And I surely couldn’t.

With each passing year, it amazes me—the Grace of God—and how far he can lead a downtrodden NFL franchise when he wants to.

Tampa Bay is next on the schedule. Things didn’t start out well for them all those years ago.

In December 1977, they visited the Superdome in the midst of a 26-game losing streak.

They had never won a single damn game in the history of the franchise. That added more pressure on a talented, but star-crossed, Saints team coached by Hank Stram.

Indeed, the pressure was so great that many Saints players just pissed that Saturday night away on Bourbon Street…literally pissed it away.

“He drinks a whisky drink,
He drinks a vodka drink,
He drinks a lager drink,
He drinks a cider drink”

Archie Manning had a foreboding of what was to come.

“I don’t want to be the laughingstock of the league, and that’s what it will be if we don’t beat Tampa Bay,” said Manning.

Stram said, “We have to approach this game with a positive attitude.”

As former voice of the Saints, Wayne Mack remembers, “They did (approach it with a positive attitude.) All week the Saints were “positive” they were going to lose to Tampa Bay that had been shut out six times.”

The Final: Tampa Bay 33, Saints 14.

Tampa Bay coach John McKay plopped his feet up on the desk, lit up a big, fat, smelly cigar and called it “the greatest victory in the history of the world.”

A bit of a stretch, I think. Nevertheless, I can understand why he said it.

Stram set the game tape on fire sometime before midnight, and I can understand why he did it.

Alas, times have changed.

There will be no repeat of that debacle Sunday. The football gods will never allow it.

Take notice, Raheem and Josh.

Cinderella has finally arrived in New Orleans.

A little late, maybe. Better late than never.

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

You Can’t Predict a Hero Under a Voodoo Moon

“They call you lady luck

But there is room for doubt

At times you’ve had a very unlady like way of running out”

-Frank Sinatra/Chrissie Hynde

Lady luck ran out after 13 games.

On a Saturday night, no less.

Ruined a great Saturday night party on Bourbon Street, no less.

Against the Dallas Cowboys, no less.

At the hands of Tony Romo, no less.

Who hangs out with the likes of Tiger Woods, no less.

Alas, they say you can never predict a hero, especially under one of those voodoo moons in New Orleans.

Who will it be this time? Who will be the one that stares down the face of defeat and leads the Saints back on the path to the Promised Land?

There has been no shortage of conquering heroes clad in black and gold this year.

And so who will it be on Sunday?

Mike Bell? He doesn’t have what it takes, he’s a fumbler, or he’s not mentally tough, they said.

Darren Sharper? His best days are behind him, he’s too old, he’s lost a step, or he can’t make plays on the ball anymore, they said.

Marques Colston? A seventh round draft pick, he’s too slow, he played at Hofstra, or he’s not ready for the primetime, they said.

Roman Harper? Another wasted high-draft pick, they said.

“You’re just hangin out in a local bar,

And you’re wonderin who the hell you are

Are you a bum or are you a star?”

I related the story of these 2009 Saints to an elderly monsignor who lives out most of his days in a heavily sedated state and really couldn’t give a bloody hoot about the NFL or the Saints or home-field advantage or any of that crap and he replied:

“Young man, that’s a great story! That’s a terrific story! But is it true?”

And I said, “Oh monsignor, even I couldn’t make up a story like that.”

And I surely couldn’t.

With each passing year, it amazes me—the Grace of God—and how far he can lead a downtrodden NFL franchise when he wants to.

Tampa Bay is next on the schedule. Things didn’t start out well against them all those years ago.

In Dec. 1977, they visited the Superdome in the midst of a 26-game losing streak.

They had never won a single damned game in the history of the franchise. That added more pressure on a talented, but star-crossed, Saints team coached by Hank Stram.

Indeed, the pressure was so great that many Saints players just pissed that Saturday night away on Bourbon Street….literally pissed it away.

“He drinks a whisky drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink”

Archie Manning had a foreboding of what was to come.

“I don’t want to be the laughing stock of the league, and that’s what it will be if we don’t beat Tampa Bay,” said Manning.

Stram said, “We have to approach this game with a positive attitude.”

As former voice of the Saints, Wayne Mack, remembers, “They did (approach it with a positive attitude.) All week the Saints were “positive” they were going to lose to Tampa Bay that had been shut out six times.”

The Final: Tampa Bay 33, Saints 14.

Tampa Bay Coach John McKay plopped his feet up on the desk, lit up a big, fat, smelly cigar and called it “the greatest victory in the history of the world.”

A bit of a stretch, I think. Nevertheless, I can understand why he said it.

Stram set the game tape on fire sometime before midnight, and I can understand why he did it.

Alas, times have changed.

There will be no repeat of that debacle Sunday. The football gods will never allow it.

Take notice, Raheem and Josh.

Cinderella has finally arrived in New Orleans.

A little late, maybe. Better late than never.

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

Saints-Bucs: You Can’t Predict a Hero Under a Voodoo Moon

They call you lady luck
But there is room for doubt
At times you’ve had a very unladylike way of running out

– Frank Sinatra/Chrissie Hynde

Lady luck ran out out after 13 games.

On a Saturday night, no less.

Ruined a great Saturday night party on Bourbon Street, no less.

Against the Dallas Cowboys, no less.

At the hands of Tony Romo, no less.

Who hangs out with the likes of Tiger Woods, no less.

Alas, they say you can never predict a hero, especially under one of those voodoo moons in New Orleans.

Who will be this time? Who will be the one who stares down the face of defeat and leads the Saints back on the path to the promised land?

There has been no shortage of conquering heroes clad in black-n-gold this year.

And so who will it be on Sunday?

Mike Bell? He doesn’t have what it takes, a fumbler, not mentally tough they said.

Darren Sharper? His best days are behind him. Too old. Lost a step. Can’t make plays on the ball anymore, they said.

Marques Colston? A seventh-round draft pick. Too slow. Played at Hofstra. Not ready for the prime time, they said.

Roman Harper? Another wasted high-draft pick, they said.

You’re just hangin’ out in a local bar,

And you’re wonderin’ who the hell you are

Are you a bum or are you a star?

 

I related the story of these 2009 Saints to an elderly monsignor who lives out most of his days in a heavily sedated state and really couldn’t give a bloody hoot about the NFL or the Saints or home-field advantage or any of that crap and he replied:

“Young man, that’s a great story! That’s a terrific story! But is it true?”

And I said, “Oh monsignor, even I couldn’t make up a story like that.”

And I surely couldn’t.

With each passing year, it amazes, the Grace of God, and how far he can lead a downtrodden NFL franchise when he wants to.

Tampa Bay is next on the schedule. Things didn’t start out so well against them all those years ago.

In December 1977, they visited the Superdome in the midst of a 26-game losing streak.

They had never won a single damned game in the history of the franchise. That added more pressure on a talented but star-crossed Saints team coached by Hank Stram.

Indeed the pressure was so great that many Saints players just pissed that Saturday night away on Bourbon Street….Literally pissed it away.

He drinks a whisky drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink

Archie Manning had a foreboding of what was to come.

“I don’t want to be the laughing stock of the league, and that’s what it will be if we don’t beat Tampa Bay,” said Manning.

Stram said, “We have to approach this game with a positive attitude.”

As former Voice of the Saints Wayne Mack remembers, “They did (approach it with a positive attitude). All week, the Saints were “positive” they were going to lose to Tampa Bay, which had been shut out six times.”

The final: Tampa Bay 33, Saints 14.

Tampa Bay Coach John McKay plopped his feet up on the desk, lit up a big, fat, smelly cigar and called it “the greatest victory in the history of the world.”

A bit of a stretch, I think. Nevertheless, I can understand why he said it.

Stram set the game tape on fire sometime before midnight and I can understand why he did it.

Alas, times have changed.

There will be no repeat of that debacle Sunday. The football Gods will never allow it.

Take notice, Raheem and Josh.

Cinderella has finally arrived for New Orleans.

A little late, maybe. Better late than never.

 

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

You Can’t Predict a Hero Under a Voodoo Moon

They call you lady luck
But there is room for doubt
At times you’ve had a very un lady like way of running out

– Frank Sinatra/Chrissie Hynde

Lady luck ran out out after 13 games.

On a Saturday night, no less.

Ruined a great Saturday night party on Bourbon Street, no less.

Against the Dallas Cowboys, no less.

At the hands of Tony Romo, no less.

Who hangs out with the likes of Tiger Woods, no less.

Alas, they say you can never predict a hero especially under one of those voodoo moons in New Orleans.

Who will it be this time? Who will be the one who stares down the face of defeat and leads the Saints back on the path to the promised land?

There has been no shortage of conquering heroes clad in black-n-gold this year.

And so who will it be on Sunday?

Mike Bell? He doesn’t have what it takes, a fumbler, not mentally tough they said.

Darren Sharper? His best days are behind him.Too old. Lost a step. Can’t make plays on the ball anymore they said.

Marques Colston? A seventh round draft pick. Too slow. Played at Hofstra. Not ready for the prime time they said.

Roman Harper? Another wasted high-draft pick, they said.

You’re just hangin out in a local bar,

And you’re wonderin who the hell you are

Are you a bum or are you a star?

I related the story of these 2009 Saints to an elderly monsignor who lives out most of his days in a heavily sedated state and really couldn’t give a bloody hoot about the NFL or the Saints or home-field advantage or any of that crap and he replied:

“Young man, that’s a great story! That’s a terrific story! But is it true?”

And I said, “Oh monsignor, even I couldn’t make up a story like that.”

And I surely couldn’t.

With each passing year, it amazes me -the Grace of God-and how far he can lead a downtrodden NFL franchise when he wants to.

Tampa Bay is next on the schedule. Things didn’t start out so good against them all those years ago.

In December, 1977, they visited the Superdome in the midst of a 26 game losing streak.

They had never won a single damned game in the history of the franchise. That added more pressure on a talented but star-crossed Saints team coached by Hank Stram.

Indeed the pressure was so great that many Saints players just pissed that Saturday night away on Bourbon Street….Literally pissed it away.

He drinks a whisky drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink

Archie Manning had a foreboding of what was to come.

“I don’t want to be the laughing stock of the league, and that’s what it will be if we don’t beat Tampa Bay,” said Manning.

Stram said, “We have to approach this game with a positive attitude.”

As former Voice of the Saints Wayne Mack remembers, “They did (approach it with a positive attitude.) All week the Saints were “positive” they were going to lose to Tampa Bay that had been shut out six times.”

The Final: Tampa Bay 33, Saints 14.

Tampa Bay Coach John McKay plopped his feet up on the desk, lit up a big, fat, smelly cigar and called it “the greatest victory in the history of the world.”

A bit of a stretch I think. Nevertheless, I can understand why he said it.

Stram set the game tape on fire sometime before midnight and I can understand why he did it.

Alas, times have changed.

There will be no repeat of that debacle Sunday. The football Gods will never allow it.

Take notice Raheem and Josh.

Cinderella has finally arrived in New Orleans.

A little late maybe. Better late than never.

 

 

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

You Are Tony Romo and You’d Love To Knock The Saints Off Their Perch

You are Tony Romo, one of college football’s greatest quarterbacks and one of its least famous.

You only receive scholarship offers from some damned Division II school named Mankato State and from Eastern Illinois University.

Being a historian of the game, you know Mike Shanahan is an EIU alum and you like the Communications program and the girls are pretty and well, what the hell, EIU it is then.

What the hell is EIU anyway, Rocky? Is that a new strand of flu?….ha ha ha….yuk,yuk,yuk…… 

You become the starter as a freshman and you rewrite those Eastern Illinois University and Ohio Valley Conference record books and a few years later you win the Walter Payton Award, Division 1-AA’s equivalent of the Heisman Trophy and you are pretty damned sure no one notices or cares.

But you know one day you’ll show them. Yeah you’ll show ’em all right.

One day this whole damned country will know who you are! They’ll know who Antonio “Tony” Ramiro Romo is.

Unbeknownst to you at the time, a young Dallas Cowboys assistant named Sean Payton, once an Eastern Illinois QB himself, is singing your praises to Bill Parcells. He’s emphatic about it. Payton is pounding the tables with his fists and jumping up and down and demanding that Parcells take a second look at you.

C’mon Sean! Tony Romo? You must be kidding me, Sean…..ha ha ha….Leave me alone Dennis the Menace…..ha ha ha

Payton finally convinces Parcells to give you and second look and your whole world is about to change forever.

You arrive in Dallas and Parcells mocks you.

You’re nothing but a ball in high grass kid…..yuk, yuk, yuk…..

But Parcells notices those books about Lombardi and Unitas in your locker and he knows you are a student of the game and he knows Payton was right – there’s something different about you. Something special about you.

You bide your time for three years.

Three damned years!

Three years behind the likes of Carter and Wright and Stoerner and Leaf and Hutchinson. Then, Parcells benches Drew Bledsoe during an October 2006 loss to the Giants and the Tony Romo era begins.

Even your owner Jerry Jones doesn’t think you have what it takes when Parcells puts you in the game for the first time but you’ll show him too and you go on a tear.

You win four of your first five starts and the damned nation is buzzing and you wake up on the morning of December 1, 2006 and you find yourself on the cover of USA Today and Jessica Simpson loves you and damned it just doesn’t get any better than this. 

Even former Cowboy Hall-of-Famer Roger Staubach says, “Tony’s making it look waaaaayyyyyy to easy.” And you protest to USA Today that “it’s not as glorified as you guys make it out to be.”

You tell them your just throwing it to the open man.

Parcells warns the media, “We’ve got a ways to go here. So put away the annointing oil, OK?”

But you are Tony Romo and America loves you and Staubach loves you and Jessica loves you and damned this is heady stuff!

How in the hell can you stay humble under these circumstances?

You’re nothing but a ball in tall grass kid….ha ha ha ha….

Then, your former mentor Payton’s New Orleans Saints embarass you in front of the whole damned country, 42-17, on a Sunday night in Dallas no less and you have the worst game of your budding career, 16-of-33 for 249 yards and two interceptions and your only touchdown pass is a fluke to Terrell Owens that Fred Thomas should have intercepted.

And then just as fast as your star rises it crashes and burns right there in full view for all of America to see…..the damned wildcard game against the Seahawks!

Romo bobbles the snap, Oh my God! Romo bobbles the snap. He botched the snap. The Seahawks are gonna win! The Seahawks are gonna win!

“It was just one of those things,” Parcells says. “It looked like a good snap. I can’t tell you what happened after that. We’re an extra point from being down to the eight teams left. That’s what’s the hardest thing.”

You think to yourself what does he know about it. I’m the one in torture here.

In November, they were annointing you. By January, you were the punch line on all those horrible morning radio shows hosted by hayseeds and laughin’ jackasses.

They said you were afraid to propose to Jessica because you might bobble the ring on one knee while trying to slide it on her finger.

It’s three years later, 2009, and those sports talk pricks say you’re Mister 0-for-December. Jessica is long gone. So is Bill. And Ditka says all that 0-for-December stuff has to be in the back of your mind no matter how hard you try to block it out.

You’re Tony Romo and you would love nothing better than to knock the Saints off their lofty perch.

 

 

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

Best of Savoir-Faire: To Hate Like This Is To Be Happy Forever

Hatred strikes me as one of the few signs of life remaining in the world. This is another thing about the world which is upside-down: all the friendly and likable people seem dead to me; only the haters seem alive.
Walker Percy

 

Any Saints fan 40-plus remembers when they became a Falcon hater like it was yesterday.

It was Nov. 12, 1978, when New Orleans Saints fans discovered the kind of true happiness that only the hatred of a bitter rival can produce.

With the Saints still in playoff contention on that fall afternoon 31 years ago, Archie Manning and a stubborn defense held the Steve Bartkowski-led Atlanta Falcons at bay for 59 minutes.

The Falcons had closed the gap to 17-13 on a Hascal Stanback touchdown run with 57 seconds to go. Then, the Saints took over presumably to run out the clock.

Legendary Saints radio Voice Wayne Mack , a Chicago native, had the call:

“With this big win, the fans will be dancing on the tables at Pat O’Brien’s.”

A melancholy Mack would say later, “I should have learned from the Chicago Tribune headline that proclaimed, incorrectly, the victory of Tom Dewey over Harry Truman in the presidential election of 1948.”

On fourth and two, Saints coach Dick Nolan decided to run Chuck Muncie. The Falcons defense held. Then, Big Ben , and we’re not talking Roethlisberger here, reared his ugly head.

With 19 seconds remaining, Atlanta QB Steve Bartkowski lined up in what came to be known as the Big Ben formation: three wide receivers on his right. At the snap, the receivers started flying toward the New Orleans end zone with seven defensive backs in hot pursuit.

Bartkowski launched a missile to the goal line and then everything seemed to move in slooooowwwwww motion.

Ten bodies collided around the 10 yard line, like tourists at Mardi Gras fighting for a pair of beads flung from a Bourbon Street balcony. The ball seem to hang in the air forever.

It was then that diminutive Falcons receiver Alfred Jenkins attained his moment of glory.

Jenkins caught his only pass of the afternoon emerging from the sea of bodies and darting into the end zone.

An eerie silence followed in the jam-packed Superdome. Kind of like one of those spooky New Orleans Victorian mansions on Halloween night.

The crowd sat in stunned silence enduring sheer agony no sports fans should ever have to endure but ultimately does.

Atlanta had won 20-17, cruelly dashing the Saints’ playoff hopes.

A local radio talk show host printed up a batch of “I Hate the Falcons” t-shirts. The batch sold out in three days. Three decades later, mine still hangs in my locker. I sneer every time I look at it.

Two weeks later, the Saints traveled to Atlanta for a rematch.

Different city. Same creepy results.

With 53 seconds left and the Saints leading again 17-13, New Orleans went into the infamous, dreaded prevent defense. Bartkowski marched the Falcons to the Saints’ 23 with 16 seconds remaining.

Deja vu all over again Rocky…ugggghhhhh…Deja vu all over again….

Bartkowski fired to the end zone. Saints defensive back Ralph McGill intercepted.

Flag on the play!!! Oh My Sweet Jesus, you gotta be kidding me!!!!!

Referee Grover Klemmer called interference on New Orleans DB Maurice Spencer. Falcons receiver Dennis Pearson would admit later he didn’t feel a thing. Two weeks later the league office informed the Saints that Klemmer blew the call.

Same spooky final score: Falcons 20 Saints 17.

New Orleans States-Item sports editor Bob Roesler began campaigning for instant replay, a revolutionary idea in those days.

The following year, the two teams would meet again in the season opener.

“I’m tellin ya’ Charlie….I’m a nervous wreck….this game is the greatest moment of our lives. There’s never been a game like this.”

Revenge was on everyone’s mind when the Falcons came to New Orleans in September 1979.

Do you remember the 21st night of September?

Our hearts were ringing
In the key that our souls were singing
As we danced in the night,
Remember how the stars stole the night away

Ba de ya – say that you remember
Ba de ya – dancing in September
Ba de ya – never was a cloudy day

Yeah, it was Earth, Wind, and Fire for the Saints in the Superdome that day. Alas, mostly fire.

“We had the biggest meeting in the the history of the fan club Tuesday night, Joey!!!!! I haven’t been able to sleep: I hope the players aren’t as nervous as I am.”

Turns out one player was suffering from extreme anxiety that day, punter Russell Erxleben. The Saints spent a number one draft pick on Erxleben in hopes that the former Texas Longhorn could handle both the kicking and punting.

Incumbent Saints placekicker Rich Szaro of Poland ribbed Erxleben mercessly in training camp.

“He’s a punta, not a keecker……ha ha ha ha…..he will not kick in this league,” said Szaro in his Polish accent.

Turns out he was neither a kicker nor a punter. More head case than anything else.

This time it took four quarters plus about eight-and-a-half of overtime for the Dirty Birds to traumatize the City of New Orleans again. John Watson snapped the ball over punter Erxleben’s head.

A mad dashed ensued. Erxleben recovered it at the goal line and under heavy pressure threw it into the waiting arms of Atlanta’s James Mayberry who raced into the end zone for a 40-34 Falcons win.

Three fluky wins in a row by the hated Atlanta Falcons.

True happiness is hating this much!

So for all us Saints fans who remember the days before ESPN, the seeds of hatred for the Dirty Birds were sown over 30 years ago.

As one of those Greek philosophers said, (I think it was Aeschylus), “Before the old wound is healed, there is fresh blood flowing.”

I’m sure the Falcons will receive a warm Southern welcome Monday night. The kind of  a Halloween weekend welcome you receive only in New Orleans.

Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y’alls neighborhood

The foulest stench is in the air
The funk of forty thousand years
And grizzly ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom

A former Saints All-Pro told me Friday morning that Atlanta rockstar QB Matt Ryan has never seen anything like he’s gonna see from Gregg Williams’ defense Monday night in the Dome.

Surely, a much better defense than the one that suffered those Shakespearean losses back in the late ’70s.

Said New Orleans safety Ralph McGill all those years ago, “We got nothin’ but buzzard luck. They did to us what buzzards do to you when they die.”

Yeah, losing like that three times in a row….well, it was just a damned shame. A hell of a thing. A real damned f****** shame.

Those kind of memories they cut deep ya know. Cut real deep.

They say the first cut is the deepest, but the second and third aren’t much fun either.

Puts you in the mood for some more sweet revenge, Nawlins style.

Well, who the hell knows.

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

Will Brett Favre and Minnesota Vikings’ Season Fade To Black and Gold?

Nobody makes the Patriots look like that. Nobody.

You don’t tug on Superman’s cape,
You don’t spit into the wind
You don’t pull the mask off that ol’ Lone Ranger
And you don’t mess around with Slim. Or Tom. Or Bill.

Apparently, the Saints never got the memo.

In this high-stakes card game, New England folded their hand with five minutes left.

Too rich for my blood, Charlie.

Oh Sean Payton, I so want you in my poker game.

And so you can’t blame Saints fans for feeling pretty good about their team’s chances the rest of the way. You see they’ve got the Midas touch- and we’re not talking Mufflers here- every thing they touch turns to gold including aging cornerbacks who haven’t played football in a year.

Poor ol’ Brett Favre. You can not blame Brett if he didn’t sleep very well on Monday night.

Must be hell for him knowing that it is only a matter of time before his dream season comes to an end.

He knows he’s a dead man walking with an inevitable matchup with the Saints looming in his future.

The now-I’m-retired, now-I’m-not kid may be about as decisive as a teenage girl but he’s no fool.

At 40, his eyes aren’t what they used to be. However, it does not require 20/20 vision  to see how thoroughly the New Orleans Saints dominated the New England Patriots on Monday night.

As Dan Pompei of NBC Sports wrote recently, “How long before midnight strikes in this fairy tale? Can Favre last 16 games playing at this level? There is reason for skepticism because he petered out in each of his last two seasons.”

Reason for skepticism indeed.

Remember how it all slipped away for Favre one year ago. In 2008, golden boy Favre threw eight interceptions and only two TD’s in the Jets final five games to doom the team’s playoff hopes.

As sportswriter Adam Tom Brown wrote, “If Vikings fans are curious as to what they have to look forward to in 2009, they need look no further than Favre’s guffaw inspiring end to his 2008 stint with the New York Jets.  Through week 11, the Jets were an impressive 8-3 under Favre’s elderly leadership.  And then, all hell broke loose.”

“Over the last five games, Favre threw an impressive nine interceptions while putting up just two TD passes.  The Jets lost four of those last five games.  Things got so tense in the Jets camp that at one point RB Thomas Jones suggested that Favre should have been benched after throwing 3 INT’s in one game.  He wasn’t benched, of course.  In fact, he was selected to represent the AFC in the Pro Bowl.  Makes sense.”

“All indications at the end of 2008 were that Favre’s geriatric cannon had run out of gas.”

Favre’s generic cannon has not run out of gas. And, no one is questioning Favre’s exploits in 2009. He is a serious contender for MVP and rightfully so. However, given last season’s swan dive, can the NFL’s most prestigious flip-flopper finish what he started. You have to wonder.

Cleveland Brown’s coach Eric Mangini has no doubt that Favre is up for the job.

Mangini told Pompei, “I don’t know what the history of performance at that position at that age is, I just know that Brett’s different than a lot of guys I’ve been around. He’s a special player. I don’t underestimate Brett’s ability to do anything.”

Wrote Pompei: “Favre’s performance dip in New York clearly was tied to a torn biceps tendon in his throwing shoulder. Most quarterbacks wouldn’t have even played with it. So the key for the Vikings might be trying to keep him as healthy as possible.”

“For any quarterback , they get hit a lot,” Mangini said. “They deal with a lot of different things over the course of a season. I know with Brett, he’s extremely tough and extremely competitive and last season things didn’t go the way we wanted to at the end. But he remained as competitive as ever and did the best he could.”

Of course, the national media will never tell you the Vikings 10-1 record has come against teams with a combined record of of 36-63. Never let the facts get in the way of a sensational story.

By contrast, Saints opponents have won 49 games including a thrashing of a division leader and team of the ages.

When the dust settles and the smoke of battle clears, Favre’s health or lack thereof will have been proven to be a moot point.

These Saints are that good-a few notches above the Vikings-as Brees is a few notches above Favre.

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

Drew Brees Finally Gets a Shot at Tom Brady: No Pressure, The World Is Watching

Thanksgiving Day 2009 (Panama City Beach, Florida)

It’s twenty years later, and team owner Tom Benson no longer dances in the end zone. Yet Saints fans still dance Sunday nights away at the Famous Door on Bourbon Street.

A live wire, barely a beginner
But just watch that lady go
She’s on fire, ’cause dancin’ gets her higher than-uh
Anything else she knows

Dance (Dance) the night away
Oh-oh-oh (Ah) Come on g-girl, dance the night away

Yeah, there’s no shortage of hysteria in New Orleans these days. It’s Mardi Gras in November in The City That Care Forgot.

Just ask no less an authority than the city’s best artisan of fine cuisine—Chef Emeril.

They’re the best. They’re the best. Absolutely the best. What do you guys think? Are they the best or wwwwwwhat?

As tasty as the good Chef’s finest dish, the Saints’ Cat 10 offense is as smooth and pleasurable as the New Orleans Symphony Orchestra or one of those French Quarter Jazz bands.

And it’s such a night, it’s such a night
Sweet confusion under the moonlight
It’s such a night, such a night
To steal away, the time is right

It’s amazing what can happen under a voodoo moon in New Orleans.

These Saints are off to a 10-0 start: best in franchise history.

Some would say they have taken the road less traveled.

New Orleans has thrown the knockout punch from a variety of angles.

Drew Brees is tossing TD passes with ease. One week it’s Reggie Bush. The next week it’s Mike Bell. The defense has scored seven times. Two weeks ago, they got a kickoff return for six. Last week, it was former first-round draft pick Robert Meachem, once labeled a bust, with two touchdown catches.

Brees from the shotgun, play action, rolls to his right, pumps, throws into the end zone……caught by Meachem for the TD!!!!!!!!

Meachem says he’s just learning to chill in this laid-back town, havin’ fun:

“As a first-round draft pick, people were saying, ‘He’s not out there. Why did we draft him? He’s a bust.’ So, I just learned to try to use that as a positive, and I replayed that in my head, “HE’S A BUST,” and it makes me go out there and play better.”

Many in the national media believe in their most private moments that New Orleans is more bust than boom.

ESPN’s Mike Greenberg said this week the Saints have to be the most unheralded 10-0 team in NFL history. On Monday mornings, the national media gives an obligatory mention of the Saints’ latest win before quickly shifting gears to Brett Favre and the Minnesota Vikings or Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts.

Even the lowly Cleveland Browns and New York Jets garnered more talk time on a recent edition of ESPN’s Mike & Mike.

Rarely is the immortal Brees—the man who came within one mid-range completion of breaking Dan’ Marino’s single season passing yardage record one year ago—mentioned in the discussion of the NFL’s greatest quarterback.

That topic is reserved for Peyton Manning and Tom Brady.

Alas, sometimes Cinderella is late. Better late than never.

Finally, Brees gets his chance to silence the experts on Monday Night Football as the entire nation watches what is easily the best matchup of the NFL season down in New Orleans.

Brees says he relishes the chance to face Brady.

“I’m excited for the opportunity because you like to share the field with guys like that—guys that are considered the best—and get an opportunity to compete. “

Hey, my offense is trying to score more points than your offense, pretty boy!

Although his goal is to score 40 points every game, Brees realizes that this week less may be better:

“Everytime we touch the ball our goal is to get points, but you understand in a game like this, going up against a quality opponent, that at times you may have to play the field position game a little bit.”

Brady sounds confident as he returns to the Superdome for the first time since winning Super Bowl XXXVI, over the St. Louis Rams—the original Greatest Show on Turf.

“It’s always good this part of the year for a quarterback and a head coach, when you can evaluate another team based on 10 games and over 500 or 600 plays, can evaluate their players and their coaching, what makes their team go, and how to eliminate some of their strengths,” says Brady.

One strength the Patriots will have to eliminate is the Saints’ absolute mastery of the fourth quarter this season. New Orleans has scored 338 fourth quarter points through ten games—best in the NFL in 2009.

New Orleans radio commentator Bobby Hebert was the first quarterback to lead the Saints to a winning season back in 1987 when the owner was still doing something called the Benson Boogie, and head coach Jim Mora was ranting, “Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda.” 

Hebert says that given the Saints penchant for creating turnovers and scoring points in bunches in the fourth quarter, it may not take a hex from one of those Bourbon Street witch doctors to beat the Patriots.

“It’s going to be a battle from kickoff to the last whistle. If we (the Saints) win the fourth quarter like we’ve been winning it this year, we’re going to beat the Patriots.”

Read more NFL news on BleacherReport.com

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