Saturday night's events had thrown the national championship picture into the chaotic hell it perpetually deserves. Being someone who tends to thrive on chaotic hell, I couldn't have been more pleased at the prospect of BCS officials and a thousand TV talking heads trying to convince themselves that any two of the arbitrarily ranked college football teams have anything resembling a legitimate claim to a "national championship" berth. The endless combinations of absurd arguments in favor of any match-up in this sham of a game leave the honest observer with only two conclusions of substance.
1) This year's college football champion will have a greater claim to that title than will my left nut based only upon the advantage of actually being a college football team.
2) Les Miles's team does not deserve a shot at even that glorious distinction.
Okay maybe number 2 needs to be more clear. Les Miles does not deserve a title shot. His team, on the other hand, is at least talented enough to merit such consideration... although it hasn't earned this opportunity outright due to Miles's unsteady guidance.
One month from now, LSU will be closer to completely healthy than they've been since early in the season. At that time, despite having Ohio State greatly outclassed, the Tigers will play another bizarre mistake-ridden game which they will quite likely win in the waning moments... just as they have done all season long. It would be LSU's third national title but the second one in five seasons that at least half the country will refuse to recognize. Two years from now, Les Miles will be out of a job and bitter over being forced to pass up his one and only opportunity to realize his dream of coaching at Michigan.
Sunday morning, I was chuckling at the very thought that Miles's coaching "skills" were still being taken somewhat seriously in the national press. By the time the absurd pairings were made official, however, I was already spent from laughing my ass off at other matters.
Adding to the eerie feeling on Sunday was the late 3:15 kickoff for the Saints game. Fox Sports claims to have moved the start time in order to accommodate a larger television audience. But it's hard to imagine that many folks were actually that interested in the Bucs-Saints showdown. During the week, Coach Soupy hinted that the late start was a way to get the notoriously late sleeping (and therefore late-arriving) home crowd in their seats and ready to yell sometime before the end of the first quarter for a change. But nobody listens to Soupy anymore anyway... or at least perhaps nobody should.
The heretofore unpublished reason for the late start was that it was the most convenient way to allow a select number of Saints fans to spend their mid-afternoon at the Milan Lounge sipping reasonably priced bloody marys and working on their construction-paper Christmas crafts. I am told that the results of our labor are to be displayed at the bar for the remainder of the holiday season but I have not confirmed this at press time so I'll treat you to a sampling of the pieces in the hope that they help to fill your hearts with the spirit of the season. (These are crappy phone pictures. Sorry)
This first one is called The Bloodiest Little Snowman. All the other snowmen laughed and called him names... until one day...
And, of course, those of you who are interested in making the holiday season as faith-inclusive as possible will certainly applaud the appearance of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
And so after a few more drinks, it was with cheeks like roses and noses like cherries that we sprang to our streetcar, gave out a whistle, and rode down to the Dome... well not in the least bit like the "down of a thistle".... I just don't think streetcars move like that.... at all, really.
Saints-Bucs: (Game photos are once again hotlinked directly from the T-P NOLA.com gallery .... because my phone pics taken from the Terrace would have really really sucked)
- This week's Dome complaint: It has been a long, strange season for Superdome security staff. Is it really necessary to nonchalantly frisk 60,000 football fans in 16 cities every Sunday, every Autumn? It's insulting enough that patrons of professional football pay exorbitant prices for admission and concessions. Must they also be humiliated by the inference that each of them is a "potential security risk" before even being allowed the privilege of shelling out seven bucks for a lite beer?
Let's be honest. Humiliation is the only real accomplishment of NFL security procedures, such as they are, since all manner of contraband items ranging from liquor to... yes... weapons are doubtlessly smuggled past the less-than-probing welcome pat of the security personnel.
The procedure is not only ineffective and insulting but also terribly inconvenient as fans are routinely delayed (often well past kickoff) as they shuffle through the pointless cattle stalls trying not to look like someone plotting violence. Plotting violence, by the way, is exactly the sort of thing one is likely to do after being made to stand in the sun under false pretenses for up to 40 minutes before having one's empty backpack confiscated in an absurd adherence to a pointless rule... but I digress.
So this Sunday, as I braced myself for yet another slog through the "Male" security queue, I and several of the other "Male"s noticed that there was... for the moment at least... no screener at the head of the line. It was as though the pass protection had broken down in front of the ticket taker. At least twenty of us rushed through the opening and breezed into the stadium in a matter of seconds.
At first, I was exhilarated by this fortuitous turn of events. But once I realized that I had just been afforded a tantalizing taste of how the process should work every week, well, I think it actually made me angrier than usual.
By the way, it has been pointed out that a prominent member of the Saints staff appears to fit a certain profile. Is he subjected to a security screening before he enters the Superdome? Just sayin' - Apart from the unpleasantness toward the end, the Saints played as good a game as they have at any other point in 2007. There were the usual stalled drives, penalties, and dropped passes. But there were also enough big plays on offense and just enough tenacity on defense(despite the big plays that went the other way) to keep the Saints in what was an entertaining and hard-fought game all afternoon. Had it not been for the improper pants, this might have been my favorite game of the year all other things being equal.
It just looks wrong... like someone's ill-conceived Halloween costume or something. - Joey Galloway: 7 reception 159 yards. The guy kills the Saints every time. It was the lead story all week before the game. It will be the lead story next time these teams play.
Jason David: The Saints Marquee... Oops that's actually Bullocks tailing on the play there. Sorry. Force of habit. - Key Stat
Reggie Bush: 13 carries 64 yards
Not Reggie: 8 carries 20 yards
The Reggie/Not Reggie ratio should be the reverse of that in order for the Saints to have anything resembling an effective running game. When Bush touches the ball too much, bad things happen.
Bush, seen here making something bad happen, had two fumbles and numerous drops Sunday - There was a Terrance Copper sighting Sunday afternoon. The elusive and mysterious Terrance Copper was spotted in the south endzone of the Superdome late during the first quarter of a professional football game between the New Orleans Saints and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The reports have it that Copper was seen making a touchdown reception... a particularly rare event according to expert Copper watchers who expect another such sighting may not recur for many months. Those in attendance at this event consider themselves fortunate to have been witness to the rarity.
There are no pictures available from the Copper sighting. Terrance Copper touchdowns are said to be resistant to photographic equipment. - Drew Brees's 45 yard touchdown pass to Devery Henderson in the second quarter was the 125th of Brees's career moving him past former Saint Archie Manning into 83rd place all-time. Devery made a nice grab here. He's taken his share of heat this season...and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time for the infamous reverse play at the end of the game... but Devery Henderson is an unassuming kid who tries hard and can be effective when utilized properly (and sparingly). It's still nice to see things go well for Devery on occasion.
Devery Henderson's 3rd touchdown of 2007 - Why are NFL referees so hesitant when it comes to all things regarding safeties? Late in the fourth quarter, Will Smith caught up with the Bucs' surprisingly quick QB Luke McCown in the endzone and wrenched him to the ground just before he could cross back over the goal line. It took the officials an unusual amount of time to rule the play a safety despite the obvious visual evidence. NFL referees seem to have a bias against safeties and almost always need to be talked into the call when it's even remotely close. What is it about the safety that frightens the refs so? I've never understood this.
Uh, guys. The players aren't walking like Egyptians for their health. They're trying to help you out here.
The safety pushed the Saints' lead from one to three points and gave them the ball with an opportunity to run out the clock. It should have been the turning point of the game were it not for the unlikely subsequent events. - Okay so here's what happened. Following the safety, the Saints received the ball at midfield on the free kick. On first down, Not Reggie ran off right tackle for no gain. The Bucs called their final timeout. At worst, the Saints could now take the clock down inside of two minutes and punt if they had to. A first down would have ended the game.
Someone in our section relayed to us that the LA Times was reporting that LSU might have weaseled its way into the BCS game after all. The crowd was giddy. People were shouting "Great Success! High Five!" in their most enthusiastic Borat voices.
On the sideline, Coach Soupy had a moment of panic. With so little time left, the final gun was in danger of sounding before he could finish exhibiting his awesome game plan for the admiring throng in the stands. How could the game end now, when he had worked so hard all week drawing up all these super cool plays? Sure the Saints, could sit on the ball and sneak back into the playoff chase, but Soupy was not going to let his genius go unnoticed, not like this, not today. These are the moments that define brilliance.
In order to satisfy Payton's ego, the Saints executed perhaps the most perfectly inappropriate play in the history of sport. In a situation where ball security and clock management were more important than big gains or points, Soupy had the Saints run a reverse which called for a delicately timed lateral involving the two least reliable pairs of hands on the team. In other words, it was exactly the wrong play featuring exactly the wrong players at exactly the wrong time.
Reggie Bush bobbled the handoff from Brees, seemed to lose his bearings for a moment, took a few hesitating steps, and clumsily lobbed the ball backwards and well behind a surprised Devery Henderson who lurched sideways in a kind of twisted ballet move and then crawled desperately after it but not before the Bucs had gained possession at the Saints' 37 yard line. The Buccaneers' go-ahead touchdown with 14 seconds remaining was really more of an inevitability than anything else at that point.
After the game, Soupy was typically apologetic calling it, "the worst job I've done as a head coach." He's got a good argument there. We've said previously that Payton's willingness to admit his mistakes is an unusual quality among head football coaches and at times one of his strengths. But that odd call on Sunday is really just a cartoonish manifestation of Payton's established weakness, namely his tendency to prioritize cuteness above utility in the play calling. Worse, this is a tendency that appears to increase along with the import of the situation. Sean Payton is charged with the management of a team full of egos on a weekly basis, but it seems at the most crucial times, he has the most trouble reigning in his own. It becomes increasingly frustrating to see the same kinds of mistakes repeated week in and week out. At some point, the young coach will have to actually learn from the mistakes he routinely owns up to.
Soupy still has a thing or two to learn, before his team can "Earn it" on the field
After the game we were waiting for the streetcar along with a crowd of disappointed Saints fans at the corner of Girod and St Charles when our attention rested upon a stout bald and goateed fellow... sort of a dwarfish Phil Anselmo type who was shouting to anyone and no one at once, "Sean Payton tried to kill my grandmother!! My grandmother is about to stab herself in the neck because of Sean Payton!"
It was hard not to laugh. It was equally as difficult to decide whether or not the guy wanted anyone to laugh as he brandished his plastic bottle of Bud Light and continued to regale us all (at high volume) with the tale of his 84 year old grandmother ("She's 84!!") who doesn't have anything to live for outside of Saints football and who very nearly lost her FAITH in even that slight pleasure upon witnessing Soupy's awesome play calling.
The monologue continued as the man wandered into the street and began challenging the oncoming traffic. "Somebody run me a fucking reverse! My grandmother almost died today! Sean Payton tried to kill my grandmother! What?"
He was now standing in the middle of St. Charles Avenue and receiving catcalls from a shirtless white haired man and his wife who were themselves quite obviously liquored up and shouting down from their balcony at the Lafayette Hotel. Whatever they were saying was unintelligible but the Phil Anselmo guy was still enunciating clearly.
"Hey fuck you, go back to Alabama! Somebody take my ass home now!"
The couple on the balcony shouted something about Hawaii. A few moments later, the woman's robe opened up giving us all a full view of her... well let's just say it wasn't the most pleasant thing I've experienced given that the couple weren't too far behind the Anselmo guy's grandmother age-wise.
Thankfully, the streetcar arrived just in time to carry us home before the situation could deteriorate any further. Along the way, our fellow passengers began receiving notification via cell phone that Les Miles's LSU Tigers had indeed received their improbable invitation to Sham Bowl 2008. All I could do was chuckle.
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