At least the Saints achieved something yesterday. They finally discovered something that no amount of bacon could make better. Talk about a full-pound medium-rare double-stack hickory-grilled shitburger.

I suppose the bright side is that at least it took seven weeks this time for the Saints to suffer their first humiliating ass kicking of the season. And I suppose it’s liberating in a way to no longer have to worry about the playoffs. Unless you think there’s a chance in hell that this team is going 7-2 the rest of the way while both Tampa and Carolina go 5-4 or worse.

I find it strangely consoling to know that the players and coaches will be dining on British cuisine for the next seven days. Enjoy the jellied eels, black pudding and kidney pie, gentlemen. You’ve certainly EARN(ed) IT. Continue Reading…

Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.

Over the next five weeks, the Saints are going to log about a million miles in the air. Memo to the players: Don’t order the fish. Mofo will straight lay you to da bone. Jack you up. Cutty can’t hang.

But first, it’s a routine trip to Charlotte. This game has "make or break" written all over it. Win, and neither Tampa nor Carolina can beat you on a head-to-head tiebreaker. The Saints would be 2-0 in the division while Carolina and Atlanta would have two division losses. Lose, and you’re 2 games behind Carolina and can’t beat them on a head-to-head tiebreaker. You’ve got 3 teams to overtake and only 9 games left to do it. Or in other words, you’re completely screwed. Nervous? You betcha. First time? No, I’ve been nervous lots of times. Continue Reading…

Urge to kill… falling.

So the Saints are now 2-3 with Marteen and 1-0 with Sideshow Mehl. I’m not sayin’, I’m just sayin’.

Pop quiz, hot shot: Who currently leads the team in receiving yards? Here’s a hint… he’s on pace for a 1000 yard season, he’s currently 15th (!!!) in the league and he has a 50+ yard reception in each of the last three games. Just sayin’. Too bad he can’t catch. Right, Message Board Guy?

Even Everybody’s Favorite Defensive Back had himself a nice little moment in the sun, and somehow managed to avoid having it overshadowed by a shoot-yourself-in-the-face moment (or ten.) You know it’s your day when… Continue Reading…

It’s been yet another banner week for Skepticism and his asshole brother Cynicism down at the ole Bender household. I’m doing what I can to fight them off, and the Saints have been doing what they can to help. So I guess I ought to be thankful for that. Or something. Unfortunately, so far the results have been mixed.

They got off to a fine start by finally putting a merciful end to the Marteen Experience and bringing back Sideshow Mehl. I suppose I have to give them credit for correcting the mistake rather than compounding it further. But correcting the mistake doesn’t excuse the fact that the mistake was made in the first place. The damage has already been done, and it was massive. Furthermore, the way they chose to correct the mistake is disconcerting. Continue Reading…

Can’t get the stink off
He’s been hanging round for days
Comes like a comet
Suckered you but not your friends
One day he’ll get to you
And teach you how to be a holy cow

So have you had enough yet? Or is it gonna have to happen again? Because, let there be no doubt, it will happen again. And again and again.

The worst part is that it’s just such a waste. That seems to be the overriding theme of this season, and perhaps this latest era of Saints football.

I have no idea whether or not this team rebounds and ends up in the playoffs. They’re certainly good enough to do that. But what I do know is that this team has pissed away three games… already. They’re pissing away the season. They pissed away last season. Twice. All indications are that they’re pissing away the Drew Brees Years and the Reggie Bush Years. It’s all just such a big fucking waste, and that’s what hurts the most. It’s those three little words that just make you want to stick a screwdriver in your throat: coulda, woulda, shoulda. Continue Reading…

The ending will shock and confuse you.

It seems a marauding band of Spam-loving Scandinavian savages has set sail from the Green Midget Café in Bromley and is due to arrive Monday evening with the intent to loot, pillage and plunder along the banks of the Mississippi. They are in for quite the rude awakening.

Conquering large parts of Europe, England and eastern Canada is all well and good, but we don’t play that shit down here in these parts. And there’s no Spam on the menu. Deal with it, jerks.

The Vikings… what a bunch of assholes. The original bleach blondes. Phony, romanticized heroes to all manner of Nazis, racists, fascists, and angry goth poseur teens chugging Carlsberg from skull cups whilst sporting sleeveless chainmail shirts and corpsepaint puchased with earnings from their part-time jobs at the local mall. With a legacy like that, is it any wonder that these phony-baloney seafaring thugs, not a single one of whom ever donned a horned helmet, were eventually vanquished by…… Catholics? Venerators of… the Saints? Yeah, that’s right, bitches! Pwned. Überpwned. Eternapwned. Continue Reading…

Well that was one hell of a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that sure didn’t smell like "just a win." That smelled more like a "springboard win."

The only thing I can come up with to bitch about this week is Drew Brees, who by his standards straight up sucked. Come on Drew, only 363 passing yards? Sheesh. 65.7% completion rate? Terrible. Minus-1 rushing? Come on, get your head out of your ass.

At the end of the first quarter, the guys on Fox were going on and on about how the 49ers’ blitzing was totally screwing with Drew’s mojo. They were right. Drew was 5-11 at the time with a pick. I turned to the guy sitting next to me and asked "So, how long do you think it’s gonna take before Drew figures this out and just starts ripping it apart?" It wasn’t long. There were only 6 more incompletions the rest of the game. Four passes of 30+. Three passing touchdowns. The craziest part of it all is that it doesn’t even blow my mind anymore. Continue Reading…

Take your pick.

I think this is gonna be the week, bitches. The timing seems to be just right for Dulymus’ triumphant return to the ranks of Dudes Sean Payton Allows To Tote The Rock.

The Believer will tell you that it probably makes more football sense than it would have in any of the first three games. San Francisco has the weakest run defense and the strongest pass defense the Saints will have faced so far.

The Cynic will tell you that, between the injuries and the public perception reaching critical mass, Coach Payton might not have much choice left. Continue Reading…

Assuming that the Saints are able to field a team Sunday, they’ll be back home in the Dome to take on the 49ers. In the meantime, the Saints’ very own DHARMA pit continues to fill with the bodies of the purged. Where’s Taller Ghost Walt when you need him?

Memo to Coach: Stop fucking with Ben.

The good news is that Terrance Copper may be available to re-assume his role as the Saints’ emergency quarterback, which will enable Sean Payton to insert Joey Harrington into his intended role… short-yardage tailback. Continue Reading…