At long last, welcome to Year 2 of the Championship Era, bitches. Little did we know how right we were back in February 2010 when we talked about how things were never gonna be the same again, eh?

We're now roughly 18 months into the excruciating two-year transition to what will eventually become The New Normal once things mercifully settle back into something resembling routine. But until then, we have one more spasm of all hell breaking loose to endure. At least this one promises to be big fun. High five!

So we here at moosedenied figure it's time to report, weigh in and run some gassers to get ourselves back into football shape. It might take a while, I've been consuming a shitload of pork and pork byproducts since March. And for most of the offseason, I've been about as sedentary and disinterested as Reggie Bush. They don't make NFL labor actions like they used to. At least back in the 80s they managed to keep it halfway interesting.

Until now, the most interesting (if that's the word you wanna use) thing that's happened outside of the draft has been the impending acquisition of Canal Street Chronicles by Zoosk™, the World's Largest Social Dating Community. No announcement has been made, and I hope I don't queer the deal for Dave by talking about it. But I can't imagine it's some big secret at this point, since all summer they've been beta-testing a bunch of new Zoosk features such as the FlirtBot™. And boy did they crank it up to 11 too. All indications are that it's more than capable of handling the… uh… load.

(Great, now I'm gonna be getting hits by the assload from Google searches for "queer online dating".)

In other news, Ralph and Kevin are now on the Tweeter Tubes. This is a very exciting development. There's an awful lot of upside there. Meantime, we anxiously await their triumphant return to the "airwaves" of BlogTalkRadio. Or, better yet, those of just about any other podcasting service.

Google+ also happened. We here at moosedenied are pretty excited about finally being able to replace Facebook with a brand new social media service to largely ignore.

But for the most part, it's been far and away the single most boring offseason any of us have ever experienced. Fortunately, it appears that the boredom is all set to end today with the commencement of what promises to be the most head-spinning orgy of consumer mania since the iPhone.

I'm undecided on how I feel about how this whole thing played out. On one hand, I've been mindnumbingly bored for the last four months. On the other hand, that's water under the bridge at this point, and now all hell is about to break loose, which is sure to be unbelievably amusing.

On one hand, just about everybody involved in this thing ended up coming off like an asshole. On the other hand, most of us pretty much expected that to be the case, and now that there are once again more important things to care about, we can all go back to not giving much of a shit that most of these guys are assholes in some way or another.

On one hand, it would have been nice to have had a normal offseason to keep us occupied and engaged and entertained. For the Saints to continue to build on what they've had going on for the last half-decade amidst somewhat-normal circumstances. On the other hand, it could be argued that they've still managed to do a better job of that than any other team in the league, despite all the craziness. Whether or not all this turns out to have been a net positive for the Saints remains to be seen of course, but all indications so far are that it might very well have been. Maybe by a lot.

Scoff at Drew's fake-OTAs all you want, but I've got a hunch that a few months from now, and maybe sooner than that, we're gonna look back on that and realize that it was a much bigger deal than any of us gave it credit for at the time. Between that and the continuity on the roster and on the coaching staff, I've got a hunch that the Saints are gonna be in "midseason form" about half a season before most other teams.

And, lest we forget, this team went 16-3 two years ago and won a championship. (High five!) Furthermore, this team was pretty fuckin' good last year too. 11-6 last year despite the Super Bowl Hangover and half the roster in street clothes by the time the Seattle game was over.

Last year at this time, Mickey Loomis was just waking up on the floor of a French Quarter bar and wondering where his pants were. Drew Brees and Sean Payton had a bitchin' case of carpal tunnel from all the book signings. The Saints had drafted a nickel corner in the first round and were already down about six tailbacks.

This year? They've been mopping the floor with everyone else in the league all offseason. These dudes ain't playin' around anymore. They were arguably the only team in the league to improve itself pre-lockout. They owned the draft. They spent about 8 weeks in brutal heat keeping themselves focused on football while other teams' players were taking to Twitter to bemoan the fact that they couldn't find their remote. (That guy plays for some other team these days, right?)

And their starting tailback recently walked away from a 65MPH collision with an 18-wheeler and was running through tackling dummies the next day. I credit this to the fact that in Ingram's hometown of Flint, Michigan there are all kinds of places where you can go and get yourself some vegetables. Let's pause for a second while you wrap your minds around that subtext. Hey, I'm just sayin'.

And if you're worried about the impending spending spree, Tampa signing Asomugha and whatnot, rest easy. If anything, the new system is even more to the advantage of smart GMs with their ducks in a row, versus desperate GMs with money to burn (now as a matter of mandate.) The rookie wage scale, otherwise known as The JaMarcus Clause, didn't pass. And teams with a ton of cap room they must now use by rule are just going to bury themselves under more bad contracts. Because that's what they do anyway. They're just gonna have to do more of it now. Don't believe me? Wait until somebody signs Reggie Bush to a 6-year, $40MM contract to get above the floor. Gives a whole new meaning to the term "cap casualty" doesn't it?

Alright, more later. I've gotta ease myself back into this, lest I pull a hammy and end up on the PUP. Meantime, I'll leave you with this to chew on. Adrian Arrington! Junior Galette! Greg Romeus!

Wait for it… wait for it…


Please feel free to pimp us on your favorite social media service: