Cha ching. Say hello to your FIRST PLACE New Orleans Saints, bitches.

Your first place New Orleans Saints, who currently own the league’s #2 rushing offense. No, seriously. And there’s a decent chance that it could be #1 after tonight’s Dallas/Carolina game.

Your first place New Orleans Saints, who are currently sporting a top 10 defense and a top 5 rushing defense. A defense which, according to WWL, leads the league in 3-and-outs.

Your undefeated New Orleans Saints, who withstood a comparatively bad day for Drew Brees, and won anyway. By 20 points. On the road. Outdoors. In wet and windy conditions. On the strength of 222, count ‘em, 222 rushing yards against a defense that had only allowed 130 rushing yards in their first two games combined. What the hell is going on around here?

Your ass-kicking New Orleans Saints, who nursed a 3-point lead for basically two full quarters, and didn’t give it up late.

Your damn strong football team, whose defense pitched a shutout* against a team who had scored 57 points in their first two games. (Although, I’ll grant that Lindell would likely have hit that field goal if they hadn’t run the fake. Far as I’m concerned, close enough.)

You knew it was gonna be a strange day when Charles Grant… wait for it, wait for it… posted a sack? I’m not screwing with you here, you saw it with your own eyes. And Will Smith got one too? I admit, I attempted to adjust my set. Hell, Drew Brees scrambled for a 10-yard gain, for crying out loud. What planet am I on?

It was one of those old-school, grind-it-out, line up and punch them in the mouth kind of games. And the Saints won. By 20. Who saw that coming?

Drew’s longest pass was 32 yards. Devery’s longest reception was for 20. No flea flickers, no double reverses, no halfback passes.

They ran 38 rushing plays to 31 passing plays, and this was with the score tied or with a teeny tiny little 3-point lead for most of the game. (Have I mentioned that the defense did not, at any point, surrender that lead?) Are you kidding me? Since when do the Saints run the ball without already having a pre-existing 3-score lead? And this was against an opponent that had the league’s second-worst pass defense going in, and a top 10 run defense. Go figure.

They held Fred Jackson to 71 rushing yards a week after he dropped 163 on Tampa. The Bills’ longest pass play of the day was 25 yards. And it was thrown by their punter and caught by a defensive end, for crying out loud. Their longest pass play that… you know… was actually thrown by their quarterback, was for 18 yards to some guy named Josh Reed. (I’ve heard that guy used to be pretty good a decade or so ago.)

And they knocked that fucking annoying, everpresent smirk off the smug face of a cinch first-ballot inductee into the Douchebag Hall Of Fame. (Fortunately for him, he got it back in time for the postgame presser. Was there any doubt that he would? The only thing this guy is better at than catching passes is being an insufferable prick. And it’s really not even close.)

Any other year, that would have been the most satisfying part of the whole day. Not this year. Not when it was all so deliciously satisfying. Not when it is all so deliciously satisfying, every damn Sunday.

And this one was the most satisfying one yet. It was quite possibly the prettiest "ugly win" I’ve ever seen.

Of course I’d have been a hell of a lot more entertained and a hell of a lot more giddy during the game if they’d have just slung the ball all over the field, as is their usual wont, and shoved 60 up their asses like I was expecting. Hey, what can I tell you? I’m a child of the 70s/80s. I admit it, I enjoy shiny things, glitz & glamour, razzle dazzle. Academically, I can appreciate old-school, grind-it-out, run the ball and play stout defense type football. Hey, by any means necessary. But I admit that it’s a lot harder to hold my raised-on-MTV attention unless it’s Dome Patrol/Barry Sanders Spectacular.

This wasn’t that. And that’s a big part of the reason why it took me most of the evening to wrap my mind around it and slowly come around to the realization that the Saints dominated this game every bit as much as they dominated the first two. It was just in a way I wasn’t expecting, and a way I haven’t been used to for a couple decades now.

I think it hit home when I reminded myself that, three games in, the Saints’ average margin of victory stands at 20. That’s not just winning football. That’s bitchslapping anybody and everybody who’s fool enough to try to knock the Duracell off of Robert Conrad’s shoulder.

Oh sure, I understand that the Bills did a hell of a job neutralizing the Best Player In All Of Football and actually shut him out, which is something I’d have insisted was no longer possible before this game. Sure, the Bills held the Saints to their lowest scoring output so far this year (by a lot) and managed to hang in there within striking distance for 50 minutes. And I tip my cap to them for that.

But in the end? They were just another victim. Another gaggle of chumps staring at the ass end of a 3-score margin.

And that’s what’s so satisfying about it. Not just that the Saints are 3 for 3 at taking their opponents’ will to live and letting Morstead kick it onto the roof of the cranky old lady’s house next door. But that it was such a radical departure from their normal modus operandi, and yet it was just as effective.

And, with that, consider the memo circulated. If you’re really fortunate, and really good, there’s a ghost of a chance that you might be able to hold the Saints’ passing game in check and the offense under 30. And guess what. You’re still gonna get your ass kicked. Must suck to be you.

So I ask again: Is it beginning to feel like THE YEAR yet?