A message to the New Orleans Saints: The era of being disappointing losers is over. We fans got the message loud and clear after last season’s awe-inspiring run into the playoffs.  We believed this team, after decades of failure, near-misses, and embarrassments, was primed to begin a new era of dominance, to build a dynasty if you will. 

Crucial pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place and those that hadn’t would be sized up and plopped in during the offseason.  Yet here we sit at week 11, looking just as hopeless, lifeless, and worthless as ever.  I’m almost tempted to say those three little words that have haunted these chicks for years: Same Ole Saints. 

But here’s why I won’t.  There’s too much talent on this team to chalk the season up to the Saints simply sucking, especially when other factors are clearly at play.  Some of these guys just don’t seem to want it bad enough (Eric Johnson 2 crucial dropped passes).  Others are too stubborn to admit they don’t have it all figured out (Coach Payton.)  And still others, well,  yeah you’re right, some of the others simply do suck (Jason David). 

So here’s my take on it. If the members of the New Orleans Saints Organization don’t have what it takes to make that happen, then put me in coach!

Put me in for Jason David.  While I may be a girl and not that fast, at least you won’t catch me peeking into the backfield when I should be sticking my man, staying with him every step, and making an effort not to get burned.

Put me in for the receivers.  I’d rather take the big hit (and inevitably die as I’m only about 125 lbs soaking wet) than get all shook up and drop passes at the sound of a few footsteps.  I’d rather be the playmaker than the guy who causes two Drew Brees interceptions because I can’t do my job and catch the damn ball.

Put me in for the offensive lineman.  While I won’t be able to block a 300lb linebacker, I can most certainly flash my boobies and create a distraction just long enough to create a hole or protect my quarterback. 

Put me in for the quarterback.  Though I can fire off a spiral, you can pretty much guarantee I’ll always be inaccurate, unlike old Jekyll and Hyde Drew.

And while we’re at it, why don’t you put me in for you coach.  You see, I got no problems admitting I make mistakes.  That last round of shots I bought in Vegas, though I could barely talk, was probably a bad move.  Kind of like leaving Jason David in, despite the fact that he gets violated every Sunday.  Plus, unlike you, I realize Reggie can’t be an every down back.   I won’t put Pierre Thomas in for one play (where he picked up six yards by the way) then take him out for the rest of the game.  In fact, I’m going to say to myself, “Wow, maybe we can actually establish a running game with this kid in.  Let’s give it a shot.” Furthermore, I’m going to shake up the play calling when it counts, not when I just want to be cute.  I’m going spread the ball around, try trick plays when the defense least expects it, and take advantage of the weakened Texans secondary by popping the ball down the field at every foreseeable opportunity.  Put me in coach, cause I’m more than willing to actually coach.  And if I just so happen to suck at coaching one week, I’ll admit that too.

To say that I’m kind of frustrated with the Saints right now would be like saying Amy Winehouse is kind of a crackhead.  I’m full on pissed.  This team owes us more.  Scratch that. They owe themselves more.  As it stands, we’re writing our ticket out of the playoffs and into the books as just another one season wonder.  And I for one ain’t ready to dig out my brown paper bag.