Hey fool! You ready for another beating? You shoulda never came back!

Know what was great about 1980? Nobody had ever heard of Dave Matthews yet, and Taylor Swift didn't even exist. Talk about the good ole days.

It was in the fall of 1980 when Brett Favre first learned the phrase "no más" and retired from sixth grade. The best thing that happened in the Superdome that year was a certain rematch that ended with one of the participants so thoroughly humiliated as his opponent taunted him, he not only quit, he vowed never to compete again. Of course, he later changed his mind, numerous times, and eventually retired for good at age 50.

Fast forward 30 years and everybody but NBC has heard quite enough from Dave Matthews, Taylor Swift and Brett Favre, thank you very much. The term "urban tailgating" exists, and it's brought to you by Verizon. An NFL head coach and several of his players have been boo-hooing for eight fuckin' months about an opponent playing too rough, and not only is most of America not calling them the world's biggest pussies, they're still inundating the Associated Press with phone calls and emails begging them to whip up a trophy of some sort and retroactively name the Vikings the AP Super Bowl XLIV Champions.

Say, has anyone bothered to ask Alan Page, Carl Eller, Jim Marshall and Gary Larsen what they think about Chilly's position on this issue? Word on the street is that even Prince finds it embarrassing.

Fortunately for us, not even the ongoing 21st century doucheification of America can taint what promises to be the best unfurling ever. A triple-unfurling, no less.

Ultimately, anything else that happens Thursday night is just gravy. But who doesn't love gravy? Especially when the pan has been deglazed with the tears of jackasses.

Tedi Bruschi (and most everyone else) thinks that Thursday night is about the Saints "legitimizing" their championship. I think Tedi Bruschi is full of shit. I think Thursday night is about out-assholing the assholes.

Chilly wants flags? I say we give him a bunch of 'em. For taunting. Over and over and over again.

Enough with all this high road bullshit. Not this week, anyway. I want a fuckin' flea flicker on the first play from scrimmage. I want Reggie (REGGIE! REGGIE!) pointing at the chump who's eating his dust as he crosses the goal line, only with a different finger this time.

I want to see Sean Payton on the sideline winding up the right arm like he's about to throw a bolo, then jabbing with the left instead as Pierre makes that final cut back inside around Jahri's left hip about 30 yards downfield to make it 49-0 at the half.

I want Chilly to (try to) bench Brett a good 15 minutes earlier than Belichick pulled Brady last year. I want him to watch Brett throw another two interceptions after failing (again) in the aforementioned effort to bench him.

I want 'em to turn their backs and say "No más."

Greedy? You betcha. Priorities out of whack? Maybe. Sorry about it? Not a fuckin' chance.