We do not train to be merciful here. Mercy is for the weak.

You know what the Saints have to do Monday night against the Fightin’ Mike Smiths, don’t you? Sweep the leg. We don’t want them beaten, we want them out of commission. Out.. of.. commission. You have a problem with that?

Win, and the Saints take a 3 game lead in the NFC South with 9 to play. And for lagniappe, half the head-to-head tiebreaker, just in case. For all intents and purposes, the division race would be a fait accompli. And that’s all great. But at the risk of sounding greedy, victory alone doesn’t cut it this week. No sir, not when it’s Falcons Hate Week™. They are the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy. Sweep the leg. FINISH THEM!!! Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy.

But before we turn our full attention to Matty Ice and his Circus of Chumps, let’s pause and have a look at probably the single greatest piece on the 2009 Saints to date. Bar none. The Ralpha Dog nailed it harder than Reggie at a Kardashian family reunion. Numerous colon-bigbow-colons are in order for that fuckin’ masterpiece. Just straight up brilliance, every word.

After the 2006 season, the Times-Picayune published a thin hardcover entitled "Thank You, Boys — A Salute To The Saints" and I’m sure you have a copy displayed prominently in your home library, just as I do. (Thanks again, El Cha. You rock.) And while nothing will ever smash a turtle quite like Leon Uris, there will be hell to pay if the T-P’s 2009 version isn’t heavier than Trinity. And Ralph’s Forecast should lead off chapter 6.

Honorable mention to Les East. Damn fine piece of work there as well.

By the time the Saints lace ‘em up Monday night, the Vikings may have already lost to Green Bay at Lambeau. If that happens, then not only will the Saints be playing for a 3½ game lead (in a manner of speaking) in the NFC South, they’d also be playing for a 2 game lead on the rest of the whole damn conference for the #1 playoff seed and homefield throughout.

And if that weren’t enough, Monday’s game is followed by the soft underbelly of the Saints’ schedule. A trifecta of chumptitude… Carolina at home, then St. Louis and Tampa on the road. Combined record? 2-18. And both wins belong to Carolina (over Washington and Tampa.)

So you have to figure that nobody’s going to be able to make up any ground at all for at least a month after Monday night. And if the other divisions’ frontrunners aren’t careful, the #1 seed could be all but a foregone conclusion by Thanksgiving.

Oh I know, I know. Keep the focus, don’t eat the cheese, one game at a time, don’t get too cocky, any given Sunday, all that excruciatingly trite bullshit that fans who take their role just a little too seriously like to say to other fans who are just having too much damn fun for their liking. Not to mention media types who consider it their duty as journalists to be caretakers of the public’s mood and see to it that the masses don’t get too carried away with their collective joy.

Say, how’s that whole "August is a LIAR!!!" thing working out for Ed Daniels these days? You think Pete Finney is still trying really hard not to forget those preseason wins, just in case we need to petition the league to make them count?

Yeah. So screw that. I’m looking ahead. Specifically, I’m looking ahead to the Saints being 10-0 and the presumptive NFC South Champion and NFC’s #1 seed going into yet another Monday night at the Dome against the ridiculously handsome Tom Brady and the Mighty Patriots.

In an admittedly speculative, but undeniably likely way, that’s what’s on the line Monday night businesswise. And I’m sure the Saints will approach it in their typical businesslike manner. This team is clearly not eating the cheese, we’re too far into the season for there to be any doubt left about that. And if there were any cheese-eating urges gnawing away just beneath the surface, you can bet that the first half of the Miami game took care of that. I’m sure that all the Saints will be worrying about is taking care of business.

But this isn’t about business. Not for us, no sir. Not this week. This is Falcons Hate Week™.

This is about cementing the Saints’ status as the alpha dogs of the NFC, and milking every last ounce of enjoyment out of it while it lasts. This is about mocking and humiliating chumps. This is about hanging the sign that reads "Abandon hope, all ye who enter" over the entrance to your dojo. This is about becoming Cobra Kai.

This is about being the bullies. The Way of the Fist. This is about the full force of longstanding frustrations and grudges coming to bear right across the face of your enemy. Unapologetically, and with glee. No mercy.

This is about unfettered dominance. It’s about fuckin’ shit up just because you can, and nobody’s got what it takes to stop you. It’s about the 3 foot jump back and the wide-eyed look of absolute terror on the face of your opponent when you jump out from behind a lifesize cardboard cutout of yourself and growl.

It’s about intimidation. It’s about maximizing the advantage of your own superiority, not only for right now, but for next time, when the opponent is already half-beaten between the ears before he even steps to the mat. It’s about being able to strut into his dojo like you own the place. Because, in a way, you do. It’s about embracing the role of the alpha dog. And securing it.

But more than anything, it’s about sticking it to assholes. It’s about vengeance. Payback. Payback for shit that doesn’t even matter anymore. After all, that’s what grudges are all about, right? It’s about inflicting pain and humiliation on Matt Ryan simply because he’s there and Steve Bartkowski isn’t. It’s about the fact that they’re the Falcons, so fuck them.

They are the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy. Sweep the leg.

Fear does not exist in this dojo.
Pain does not exist in this dojo.
Defeat does not exist in this dojo.

Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy.

Finish them!!!