Tag Archives: jon vilma saints
Hit it and Quit it Tuesdays
Hit it!
Robert Meachem: his baby balls may have dropped on Sunday but he didn’t drop the ball when it came to making one of the most magical plays in Saints history. Mama taught you right Meachem! When someone takes your things, you take em right back!
Quit it!
Where oh where has my little “D” gone? Where oh where could it be? The defense that last Monday night made Tom Brady look like Jason Campbell turned around and made Jason Campbell look like Tom Brady a few days later. Yeah, we’re banged up in the secondary. Yada, yada, yada. We came out flat and the Redskins took advantage of it. Let’s cut the crap now…shall we?
Order Canceled on “Free Vilma” T-shirts
Our lovely linebacker’s run-in with the law is thankfully a brief one. Miami-Dade prosecutors decided to drop the charges against Jon Vilma for an arrest earlier this year. They didn’t give a reason, but we suspect they know better than to mess with one of our men.
Upon hearing the news, Vilma reportedly beated his chest and yelled “King Kong ain’t got nuthin’ on me!” (Read More)
Hit It and Quit It Tuesdays
Hit it!
6 tackles, 1 sack, and 2 forced fumbles. Oh yeah, Jon Vilma is making things happen.
Quit it!
3 interceptions, 1 in the end zone, and 1 on what should have been a game tying/winning drive. I repeat, Et tu, Drew-te?
Hit it!
Gary Hartley is soaring up the “Baby Daddy” list. He made a 47 yarder on a sloppy field. He made all his extra points. I know it’s sad to have to be excited about those things, but that’s the world us Saints fans live in these days.
Week 13: “You are too much for me, you sonofawhoreson bitch! I wish I knew how to quit you!”
Such poignant words. Such similar situations. Much like in Brokeback Mountain, the Saints and I are entangled in a sordid, twisted love affair. At times it feels so right, but it often feels so wrong. And once again, after I’ve given my all, they’ve broken my heart. Damn you, Saints. I wish I knew how to quit you…
The stormy weather in the Sunshine state set the perfect backdrop for Sunday’s game against the Bucs, which played out like a rerun of a bad movie for us tortured Saints fans. As much as I wanted to believe we could pull off the upset in Tampa, I couldn’t ignore the nagging question lingering in the back of my mind. “How will they blow it this time?” My brain conjured up images of the usual suspects…Jason David blowing coverage to give up a 70 yard touchdown in the final minutes. Reggie Bush fumbling the ball on the goal line. Martin Gramatica coming off injured reserve just so he could botch a game winning field goal. But who knew, who knew, it would be you Brees? Et tu, Drew-te?
Check out Nola Chick's Super Bowl Experience, courtesy of 
Time To Tap the Rockies
Here’s something I don’t usually admit to when staring in the face of any IRS Agent, German bikini waxer, chef at a questionable Chinese eatery, bald hair stylist, or Saints opponent: I’m scared shitless. Sure I think it. Sure I obsessively change my clothes mid-game hoping a different outfit will inspire a different outcome. Sure I kick my dog out of the house if I think she’s to blame for back-to-back 3 and outs. But no matter how ansy I might be at or before game time, I never say it aloud..until now.
Something about those Denver Broncos just doesn’t sit well with me. While I haven’t exactly made peace with putting this game in the “L” column like The Wang, I’d be faking it worse than suddenly “Lesbo Lohan” if I said I thought we had this game in the bag. From the cruel home field advantage of oxygen deprivation to Brandon Marshall and Eddie Royal’s combined ability to feast on our secondary, I’d say the odds are stacked against us. Still, leave it to the Chicks to find light amidst a vacuum of darkness. Read more...