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Monday, January 15, 2018

Steve Gleason is number one




I want to tell some jokes about yesterday too.  I know we were all trying to cheer each other up last night when the thing happened.  That was a great game. The Saints did everything you could have asked to see. They basically had the thing won. Until they didn't. Football is weird that way.  For all its supposed precision, its baroque strategy, its faux military style of preparation, for all the physical effort of its execution, its results are often the product of random accidents.

Personally, I think that is the source of its (and most sports') appeal. As fans or participants, we immerse ourselves in the complex mechanics of the event. But it's the prospect of seeing those mechanics overturned by fate that really draws us in. There is where we find the passion, the humanity, and above all, the humor that we're really buying in for. There is a kind of hope in the sudden overturn of expectations. Even when these reversals go against "our side" on some level, we all know they are what we came to see.

We tried to tell each other that last night at our viewing parties and on the Twitternets and such.  We did okay.  Today is a little more sad. But only because we're more sober now and working our way through the aftermath. This afternoon, we drove by a season-ending merchandise clearance and got a little misty eyed.

Blowout sale

I didn't see any Marcus Williams jerseys out there.  But I'm willing to bet you'll see a few more of those start to pop up around town in the coming months. I think if I order mine now, I should have it in time for Mardi Gras.

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