I remember one time coming down with a terrible case of bronchitis that kept me bed ridden for days, coughing up a lung about every 3 minutes, and wheezing for air. I took a doctor's prescribed medicine that not only made me nauseated but caused an inexplicable allergic reaction that triggered an uncontrollable itch, which was sort of like chicken pox but 20 times worse.
Those, my friends, were the good ole days.
The sickness I experienced today watching the Saints hand deliver a 16-13 victory to their division rival is something no modern medicine can cure. It is a pointed, effective, and quite penetrating misery. It is a blow delivered straight to the gut, that sends a wave of blinding pain first to the heart, then a little further up to the brain, causing a strange sense of delirium. It is an all too familiar pain, that my fellow Chicks and I believed with confidence we wouldn't experience for at least another 3-4 years. Yet, here it is again, just months removed from the high of an NFC Championship birth that left us floating on a cloud of shirtless Reggie Bushes, Calorie-Free Shrimp Po-Boys, and Bloomingdale's Shoe Sales.
This is like a replay of a bad movie with an astoundingly bad title: 0-4, This Time It's Personal. What makes this bad movie so different is that it's been made with an all-star cast. This isn't like a remake of Gigli with even worse actors than Ben Affleck and J-Lo. This is like watching Gigli with Meryl Streep and Robert Deniro; It just doesn't make sense. It makes your head hurt and your limbs go numb and your stomach turn. It makes you want to get violent until you realize that no jury would acquit you on a "The Saints Made Me Do It" defense.
To quickly (very quickly) recap today's events: Our wide receivers (that means you Devery Henderson) suck and we need a new kicker. Yeah, yeah, we know. Olindo was hurt. Not to worry, he sucks even when he isn't suffering from a groin injury. In fact, we'll take his groin injury any day over the torment of watching that craptastic 60 minutes of football. How do you clobber your opponent on time of possession, first downs, third down conversions, number of plays, and total yardage and still get your ass beat? These are some questions Payton and his gang will have to answer within the coming days. And while they're problem solving, Payton can ask himself why he even elected to have Olindo Mare attempt a 50+ yard field goal knowing the man is both sucky and injured.
So what do you do to numb the pain? You become the ultimate hater!!
The Chicks have officially declared this Hater Week for Saints fans. Why? Because misery loves company. If our team wants to stink it up, we want everyone else to suck too! So Ha ha to you Falcons Fans, way to blow another lead! Ha ha to you Bucs Fans, way to get your little bubble burst by the Super Bowl Champs! Ha ha Dolphins Fans and St. Louis Rams Fans. It could be worse. We could be 0-5 like you!
To our Saints, sadly, we still believe. Like the masochists we are, we'll be there for you next Sunday, pom-poms in tow. Let's just pray that this time, you'll actually show us the courtesy of showing up too.
