As most of you already know…

… I’m a die-hard lover of the New Orleans Saints.

Today, like most members of the Who Dat Nation, I am in mourning.

Not because I feel like we were robbed (oh, don’t worry - that’s coming.) Not because Roger Goodell secretly still has it out for us. Not because winning would have ultimately given us a berth in a second Super Bowl.

This loss feels worse than enduring the ‘Minnesota Miracle’ last season, where I was catatonic for a solid seven minutes. Before my sister won Miss Louisiana in 1990, she got first runner-up twice. Yep - feels a lot like that. Shocking. Painful. Sad.


Despite all that, what I am about to say may come as a shock to you, and it’s given me anxiety pains since the playoffs began, so let’s hurry up, spit this out and get on with our lives:

I didn’t think we were the better team.


Since watching the Saints on Thanksgiving earlier this year, we haven’t been the same team we were during the ten-game winning streak. The offensive output slowed. Instead of winning games handily, it seems we escaped.

Call it injuries. Call it being exposed. It just… didn’t feel the same the last quarter of the season.

That being said… this team ‘over-achieved.’ Very proud of these guys.


I agree there were several non-calls in that game on both sides. They ‘let the boys play’ as they say, which I guess is fine. But you cannot deny - CANNOT deny - that pass interference should have been called on that particular play.

You also cannot deny that if the flag is thrown, we run out the clock, hit the chip-shot field goal, and punch our tickets to the Super Bowl.

You can’t deny that. THAT non-call. On THAT play. At THAT moment in the game.

Okay - maybe the Rams were a better team. I can live with that. But come on! We win the game if that penalty is called. You know it.

But… it wasn’t. We lost. It’s the way of things.

Proud of the Saints. They had an amazing season. Bless you Boys!

So, what happens now? Is this the end? Or does Payton and Brees give it one more go? Surely you can’t walk away after being hosed like that. Surely it can’t get any worse…

… wait, I’m gonna take that back. I don’t want to find out something worse than that.

Alright - off my soap box. Can someone cheer me up? Feed me tacos, tell me you have a crush on me, grab my butt? Or maybe go buy some Erick Fayard merch:

Love you, Guys. Talk soon!


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