Cha ching. How’d you like that in your face, bitches?

I’m gonna torture him. I’m gonna crucify him. Real bad.

See, in my head, it actually went down a little something like this: The second fight ended with Clubber once again beating the shit out of the paper champion, as Philadelphia sports fans rained the boos down on yet another hometown hero, in their own inimitable style. The exceedingly gay empty-gym sparring session never happened. Apollo became Clubber’s trainer, and it was those two who flew to Moscow. But instead of winning the hearts and minds of the Soviets with the gritty determination of a prohibitive underdog, they just bust ‘em all up real bad and knock that smug look off their commie faces, Count Of Monte Fisto style. Rocky IV is actually titled "Where The Clubber Meets The Choad" and the subsequent ten Rocky flicks went straight to DVD.

So is it beginning to feel like The Year yet?

Hell yeah it is. Why so confident? Because for once, the fickle finger of fate seems to be coming down on our side a lot more often than not. Who saw that coming?

I’m sure you’ve already thought about it, but think about it again. Any other year, McNabb plays. Or Vick. Or Fabulous Jeff. Any other year, the Bucs don’t fire Gruden, don’t lose Jeff and/or sign a real quarterback. Any other year, the Pants trade for Cassel or Cutler. Instead, they give Jake Delhomme a 5-year extension. Any other year, the Pants would inexplicably be 2-0 right now.

Any other year, Darren Sharper would have turned out to be washed up. The Mike Bell Experiment would have failed miserably. Anthony Hargrove would have turned out to be just some guy, and would have been released in preseason. Shockey’s second TD against Detroit would have been ruled incomplete. Heath Evans would have been called out of bounds at the two vs. Philly. The Saints would have been scrambling to find a decent left tackle. The injury Bell sustained against Philly would have been an ACL. And on and on.

Charles Grant and Will Smith would have been suspended. Uh… wait. Nevermind on that one.

This year? Not so much. Not so far, anyway. Everything’s coming up Milhouse.

And it doesn’t look like the other shoe is gonna drop anytime soon. Early reports are that the Bills might be without their starting right tackle, cornerback Leodis McKelvin and two tight ends. I’ll take it. I don’t think the Saints will need it, but I’ll take it.

None of that is intended to diminish what the Saints themselves have accomplished so far though, don’t get me wrong. I mean, they’re scoring 46.5 points per game, for crying out loud. FORTY SIX POINT FIVE. Holy shit. 468 yards of total offense per game. Hell, for that matter, 145 RUSHING yards per game. What planet am I on?

Having the fickle finger of fate on your side certainly doesn’t hurt. But for the most part, the Saints have been making their own luck. And I think that, given the choice, I’m pretty sure we’d all take the latter over the former. Having both is gravy. Sweet, delicious, championship-quality gravy.

Shawn over at The Pool Party made a damn fine observation that I’d like to agree with and expand on a bit. His assertion was that with Bell, Meachem, Devery and Shockey performing as they are, this offense has finally reached "critical mass."

As Saints fans, we’ve been talking about that for a long time now. "How do you defend against so many weapons?" But until now, there’s always been something missing. Lack of a legit running game. Lack of a legit, multipurpose tight end. Devery’s hands. Meachem’s inability to make an impact. Colston’s health. Overuse of Reggie Bush. Any number of faults found with Sean Payton’s playcalling. Even Drew Brees’ lack of "clutch" (if you assume that "clutch" is an actual thing, which it isn’t.)

Until now, there’s always been some weakness or other that could be exploited, and you could slow the offense down enough to win. I’m not sure that’s the case anymore. For real this time.

Defensively, much has been made (and will continue to be made) of the passing yards the Saints are allowing. Against Free Credit Report Dot Com Guy and Hillbilly Vince Vaughn, no less. And hey, if you want to dismiss these guys as chumps, then more power to ya. But you’d be wrong. There’s a reason the former was the first overall pick, and the latter has been Donovan’s heir apparent for two years. Stafford is not Joey Harrington (yet) and Kolb probably is Aaron Rodgers.

So get over it. For the most part, it’s been garbage yards anyway.

Basically, what I’m saying here is…

Believe it. It’s real.