Well, it appears that yet another offseason is officially in full swing. I’m proud to announce that my testicles are almost back to full strength after the annual four month autumn beating they took. Bless you boys, indeed. There’s still a bit of swelling and discoloration, and you can still barely make out "Love, Marteen" on one of them, but for the most part, the topical cream seems to have done a bang up job. Here’s hoping you enjoyed your General Purpose Non-Denominational Federal Winter Holiday, and that your genitals are returning to good health as well.

So I suppose it’s time to end the annual pouting binge postseason vacation, pull the blogging top hat and monocle back out of the closet and declare myself fully recovered. That’s right. moosedenied is back, bitches! Try to contain your exuberance. Shop as usual, and avoid panic buying.

I don’t really have a concrete plan for the content of this here post. I just know that I’ve gotta pull something out of my ass and serve it up before I’m totally forgotten. (My transformation into Pete Finney is almost complete.) So in lieu of any kind of theme or topic, let’s recap some of the news, hot topics and talking points from the last month.

The Saints kicked off Carnival season by finally putting a merciful end to the Gary Gibbs Experience. Word on the street is that they packaged a tiny piece of Gibbs’ ass in with the season ticket renewal invoices. I hear that this year’s fatuous, monosyllabic rah rah slogan for the tee shirts is going to be "Happy Now?"

All together now… "Not yet, assholes!"

But the pound of flesh certainly didn’t hurt. Gibbs had long since been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion, and nothing good could have come from a stay of execution. David Gladow and the venerable Jim Henderson, among others, dared to float the notion that Gibbs’ firing was mainly about appeasing an angry fan base before effigies started popping up atop bonfires along the levees. If there’s one thing we Saints fans know, it’s that nothing burns like an effigy.

But of course, nevermind that everyone concedes that the results (or lack thereof) speak for themselves, and that the buck stops with the defensive coordinator. The mere suggestion that maybe (just maybe) it might not have been a case of a top-10 defense being held down by an incompetent boob at the helm, and that "Anybody But Gibbs" might not necessarily be the cure for all that ails the Saints’ defense, drew a rousing chorus of "How dare you?" from the Borg Saints fans, with a handful of "What an idiot!" thrown in to remind you that it’s 21st Century America and you’re on the internet. Hey, just because Gibbs is gone, that’s no reason to let those torches and pitchforks go to waste.

Fortunately, the righteous indignation aimed at the handful of heretics who never fully bought into the groupthink regarding the aforementioned incompetent boob soon subsided. Bottom line is that Gibbs is gone, and that alone has most of us whistling Zip-a-dee doo-dah out of our ass holes once again. And it’s only January. If Gladow was right, and it was basically a public relations move, then mission accomplished.

The Old Man:
We goin’ to da Supa Bow !!!

It didn’t take long for the Saints to seemingly target exactly one candidate to replace Gibbs: Gregg Williams. Public opinion seemed pretty much evenly split between Williams and a guy who wasn’t available: Philly secondary coach Sean McDermott. A few other names were mentioned in the media, most notably Jim Haslett, which was hilarious. The best part was that every time some media type forced Haslett’s name into a piece about potential Saints DCs, you could almost literally hear the "….yeah right, fuck you Jim. Yeah we really miss you down here, buddy. Great job with the Rams, by the way. Clearly you’re on your way back to the top. Talk to Brooks lately?"

Williams has a rep for being a bit of an asshole. And it didn’t take long for him to provide the Borg Saints fans with proof positive that the rep is legit. See, he committed the cardinal sin of not immediately signing on, accepting whatever compensation the Saints offered, and pledging undying allegiance to the back and gold while insisting that being the Saints’ DC was his dream and his life’s goal ever since he was a small boy.

Instead, Williams took a little time to explore the possibility of returning to his former "home" in Nashville to work for his former boss and good friend, Jeff Fisher. He also reportedly flirted with Green Bay a little bit, and eventually coaxed a little more money and a job for his son from the Saints. What a disloyal son of a bitch! Fire this guy, we deserve better! Right, Message Board Guy? Sean McDermott would NEVER have disrespected you personally in that way.

But in the end, it all worked out. Williams eventually saw the light and realized that no human endeavour can match the nobility of doing whatever it is the New Orleans Saints need you to do. The high bid for your services and the willingness to follow that up with a nepotistic hire for lagniappe is just the cherry on top. Everybody wins. High five!

To me, the most exciting part of the whole thing is Sean Payton’s willingness to bring in a former head coach (who still fancies himself head coaching material) and a guy with a proven track record of success. A guy who no doubt insisted that he be given full reign over that side of the ball, and a guy who will most likely end up being regarded as more of a "co-head-coach" with Payton if he’s able to have any significant success in bringing something resembling competence to the defense.

For a guy who has been described as controlling to a fault, stubborn, prideful and maybe even a little Napoleonic, the hire implies a surprising amount of humility on Payton’s part. (Either that, or the characterizations are and always have been mostly bullshit.) And quite a commitment to winning by any means necessary, even if it requires that he settle for less than full credit for it. Because you know that’s coming if this gets the Saints over the hump.

So good for Sean Payton. I’m as excited as the next guy about the prospects of having a bonafide defensive "mastermind" on board. It remains to be seen whether or not it’ll make a significant difference, but when the bird in hand is named Gary Gibbs, I’ll take the two in the bush, thank you very much. Fingers crossed.

I was gonna go into some other issues such as the overratedness of Jammal Brown (that’s right, yours truly intends to argue the STATS LIE!!!! position for once), Jon Vilma getting hassled by The Man, the annual flareup in the ongoing Jihad Against Jack Hunt, the street value of Adrian Arrington’s hall of fame bust, reports that the Saints might be getting just about sick and tired of Meachem’s bullshit, Loomis’ quest to set free agency expectations as low as possible, and of course the ever-crucial current status of the uniforms, Dome nachos and Kim Kardashian’s ass. But I’ve been told that I really need to split these things up into bite-sized portions, and refrain from going weeks without posting jack shit.

Seems like sound advice to me, so I’ll shut up now (thunderous applause fills the internet) and just promise to be back sooner than later.  Maybe tomorrow. Or whenever this post accumulates five comments. Or something.