A certain Westbank-born, Jesuit High School-LSU educated, uptown bicycler made the impossible happen this morning: he made me give a crap about the Hornets’ playoff run. I hope he doesn’t mind my borrowing his topic and spewing forth a little rant of my own on the subject.

Firstly, let me just say that I don’t have anything at all against the Hornets. In fact, I wish them nothing but success. I think it’s great that they’re (back) in New Orleans, I’m glad they’re winning, I’m glad they’re packing the arena and are creating such excitement in the city. I’m glad Hornets fans are having such a great time, and I hope it continues for as long as possible.

It’s just that I don’t give a crap about basketball. I’ve tried, but I just don’t have it in me. Football is my first love. There are pictures of me from before I could walk with all manner of Saints and LSU merchandise. I was pretty much born and bred a Saints/LSU fan. Other sports didn’t come until later for me, when I gained unsupervised access to cable tee vee. Summers out of school, two working parents and day games on WGN turned me into a Cubs fan. Baseball became my second love. (Little league helped a lot too. When it came to participation, I actually preferred baseball to football, and I still do today.)

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Those of us who crave hard-hitting, densely-packed, insightful, non-copy/pasted Saints commentary were thrilled Sunday morning to find that the venerable Pete Finney took some time out of his busy schedule to break down the first day of the Saints’ draft as only someone with six decades in the business can.

Pete’s conclusion? We’ll have to wait and see.

That right there is some good stuff.

But it gets even better. Pete knows that we love him here at our humble blog, and he has offered us his full-draft breakdown to publish as a moosedenied exclusive. (Sssssh… don’t tell anyone at the Times-Pic.) So without any further ado…

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Damn, that was fun. The 2008 draft is in the books, and it has the looks of a good one. Mickey Loomis was straight up rakin’ all weekend. While the draft might have been light on the expected fireworks (no Dorsey, no Shockey, only six picks) it was heavy on the beef, and it projects to be heavy on production, both long-term and just as importantly, short-term.

All six guys stand a better-than-fifty-percent chance of sticking. All six guys seem to fit the "value" theme, all of them fill needs (or potential needs) on the roster, one of them fills multiple needs, and at least one of them is a late-round immediate starter. A guy who helps you offensively by scoring points, and defensively by improving your field position. Now that’s value.

On first glance, this draft class sure does smack a whole lot more of 2006 than it does of 2007. And we should all be happy about that. Two perceived traits of this current regime that were beginning to become cliche (too-cute small-school infatuation and offense-over-defense-at-any-cost) were thoroughly debunked. And those who were fearing the idea of "mortgaging the future" should at least take comfort in the fact that there’s apparently a limit to how far down that road they’re willing to go. There seems to be a little something for everybody in this draft. Well… everybody who’s not a perpetually-miserable asshole, that is.

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It’s draft day, bitches!

I can has allsome d-tackel pls mistur Lommis? Otherwize ima be all in ur internets disrespeckin ur skillz.

Sincerely,
sAiNtSguy498372

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Leave comments or DIE!
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This just in: the Saints’ front office really is fully invested in improving the team. No, really, it’s true. It’s kinda how they earn their living and stuff. They’re not the least bit interested in intentionally undermining the team’s success. Nor are they idiots. And perhaps most shocking of all, there’s a pretty good chance they’re working with juuuuuust a little more information than you are, Message Board Guy. Hard to believe, I know. But trust me, these things are true. Deal with it.

As if the days leading up to this draft haven’t already been strange enough, Pete Prisco is now reporting that the Saints may be dangling Jammal Brown out there in potential trade-up scenarios. And I expect that by the end of the day, there will be full-blown riots in the electronic streets of Douchebag City.

Brown good. You no trade. Stoopid. You trade Harper. Me no like Harper. He suck. Brown better. You keep. You trade, we burn you with fire. He help Drew. You trade Harper. Or Meachem. Or guy who can’t catch.

For as much nitpicking and overanalysis that goes on most of the time on message boards, it boggles the mind how people just go caveman on some issues. Brown’s good, therefore you do not trade him. Simple as that. Right? Wrong, asshole.

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Ah yes, draft week is finally upon us. The rumors are flying, the Sportscenter specials are rolling, the message boards are booked to capacity with braying assbags while their owners scramble to clear standing room for more,  and the closer we get to the big day, the only thing everyone seems to agree upon is that the Saints probably won’t be making their first pick at the #10 slot.

Whatever happens, it’s gonna be a banner weekend down at the ole Bender household. The WWL stream will fire up somewhere around 9am… or, well, whenever WWL decides to start their coverage. Predictably, as seems to be the case every year, they don’t seem to be all too concerned with actually telling us exactly when that might be.

The ping pong table will be coming out shortly thereafter, and I’ll begin explaining to the neighbors who those dudes are with the crazy accents who are blaring from the wireless speakers. "Well, the hillbilly sounding dude is named Deke, see. The other hillbilly sounding dude is named Hokie. The dude who sounds like the oom-papa-mow-mow guy from the Oak Ridge Boys is Steve Korte. And the one who’s pretty much completely incomprehensible used to be our quarterback. No, I’m serious, that guy used to actually call plays in the huddle."

The aim is to be fully sloshed before it becomes obvious that Hebert is. Which means it’ll be an early morning.

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So Ashley is off on the road to Shambhala. I want to say something, but it’s tough. I mean, on one hand, I never met the man. The extent of our "relationship" was regular visits to each other’s blogs and a handful of lighthearted emails laughing with (or at) each other regarding something that appeared either here or there. I almost feel like an asshole for presuming the slightest qualification to even comment on his passing in the first place.

The tightrope between being maudlin and being glib is particularly tough to navigate. Fall to either side and you’re unwittingly being unbelievably disrespectful. Then you proofread what you’ve just written, and you wonder if you’re being an even bigger asshole for coming off like it’s all about you. So I promise, I’m gonna shut the hell up about it here pretty soon.

But before I do, I’ve got one more thing to say about it. I’ve been thinking about how poetic and heartlifting it is to realize that, as it turns out, the road to Shambhala begins at the ass end of the infamous Blues Highway right smack dab in Fuckmook City. I mean, how could I not have realized that before? How could it be anywhere else? Just add it to the list of ways Ashley has smartened me up over the last few years. It makes me smile to think he’ll probably see fit to make a quick stop at 5800 Airline for a few minutes along the way to straighten some mooks out and point them in the right direction. Rock on, Ash. Rock on. For those of you who have been affected by his passing far more than I could ever even fathom, you remain in our thoughts. We know that you’ll find peace in one another, and in Ashley’s continuing presence in your lives. And with that, I wish Ashley godspeed and hereby shut up about it, hoping that my words didn’t come off as too presumptuous and self-indulgent.

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Part two of our draft preview series begins right……. now. We’ve decided to include ends in with the tackles. Why? Because there are only two defensive tackles really worth talking about, and there’s apparently a fringe element out there who think that the Saints are gonna draft an end and then immediately trade Will Smith for three picks and some other clean-cut, non-threatening, parent-friendly rapper. Like Dr. Dre.

Trading Smith right now is, of course, a mindbogglingly stupid idea. He’s under contract for 2008 and 2009, and you could easily franchise him for 2010 if need be, so it’s not like the Saints are "about to let him walk for nothing" any time soon. And if he eventually leaves in free agency, then so be it. Contrary to popular opinion, the Saints wouldn’t be losing him "for nothing" because retaining his services for those other two or three years is valuable in and of itself.

Look, it’s perfectly reasonable to have been disappointed in the overall performance of the ends last year, but it’s ridiculous to consider replacing either one, given the current circumstances, no matter how much (specious) foresight a move like that might seem to display.

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