First off, let me be Debbie Downer: New Orleans, I’m happy for you, as sincerely as a bastard like me can be. You have shown incredible resilience in the face of both Hurricane Katrina and governmental indifference after Hurricane Katrina. And who I wouldn’t kill to be on Bourbon Street right now. I’d get to see boobies, and I probably wouldn’t even have to have beads!
But I find it hard to empathize with the civic pride you feel for your Saints right now when the team is owned by the merciless Tom Benson. For a city as small as you are, when you have to support another major league franchise (the Hornets, which, has to be said, y’all stole from Charlotte), and even though you are still one hurricane away from virtual nonexistence, you are showing love for a team that five years ago easily could’ve been the San Antonio Saints. And the man who wanted to make that move is the one who owns the Vince Lombardi Trophy. Jus’ sayin’.
Fascinating Super Bowl XLIV. We should be appreciative that the streak of non-sucky games continues, although we’re way past due for an ‘80s-era blowout. I didn’t have heart attacks like I did the past two years, but if you drill down into the gameplans and the implementation, you can pick apart New Orleans’s 31-17 upset of Indianapolis for weeks. The what-ifs and should-have-beens and how-did-they-do-thats will take some time to peel away, but you’ll geek out while doing it.
I was totally wrong about everything my last post, so please don’t read it. Thought it was going to be a shootout, and it really wasn’t. Thought the Saints and their Who Dat fans were just happy to be there. They were – and then some. Thought the Colts were the better team who’d take better advantage of the two weeks inbetween games. Well, about that. …
Peyton Manning and Indianapolis were chugging along at a nice pace, putting up 10 points in the first quarter and throwing down the gauntlet to Drew Brees and the Saints offense to make up the difference. But there was something about the second quarter that may, in retrospect, have been the first domino to fall, the first loose gear that wound up bringing down the entire Colt contraption. Could it be that Pierre Garçon’s dropped pass at 8:23 left in the second quarter on 3rd-and-4 from their own 28, which resulted in Indy’s first punt of the game, knocked them off stride and gave New Orleans confidence that they could hang with the Colts’ passing attack?
What could have been just as important to the mindset of the Saints was that ballsy onside kick to begin the second half. Hank Baskett, formerly of the Eagles and currently the husband of former Girl Next Door Kendra Wilkinson, had a chance to corral the pigskin but couldn’t. Wilkinson was so sure that her man’s team would win that she told E! this week that they were going to celebrate the Super Bowl victory with “a lot of sex!” Wonder what they’re doing now that they lost and he could be one of the goats. Yeah, probably a lot of pity sex.
Anyway, the recovery by the Saints meant that the powerful Manning was at his most impotent – on the sideline (CBS said that he didn’t throw a pass for 70 real-time minutes, which included the day-and-a-half spent for The Who perform – not knockin’ them, though, they were pretty good). And they completed their climb out of that first-quarter hole on a screen pass to Pierre Thomas for a touchdown and their first lead in the Super Bowl.
Manning led the Colts back down the field, and Indy took back the lead on a tough run by Joseph Addai. But in the second half you got the feeling that this game was going to be different. Manning had that look in his eye, one of worry, one of disdain that things weren’t happening the way he expected them to. And it wasn’t just Brees, who was locked and cocked after the first quarter (with a mighty assist from an offensive line that allowed only one sack). For Peyton’s sad puppy dog look, look to the man of which you will ask, How did he do that? It wasn’t New Orleans head coach Sean Payton. It was Saints defensive coordinator Gregg Williams.
The 51-year-old Williams, hired away from the same position at Jacksonville before the year began, said he had three preparations for his defense: one for the first half, one for the third quarter, and one very special secret scheme for Manning in the fourth quarter. Well, his defensive charges played out of their minds through all three phases of his master plan. While they didn’t knock Manning on the ground once, neither did they give up the deep ball that broke the backs of the Jets. Most of his 31 completions were short and with a defender on his receiver’s back like a monkey-shaped manifestation of a nagging problem. By keeping Garçon, Dallas Clark and Austin Collie in front of them, the Saints D turned what looked to be an Arena League game into trench warfare and slowly frustrated Manning.
And finally, one of those monkeys got off a Colt’s back and turned into a thief in the night. With the Saints leading by 7 and with three-and-a-half minutes left in regulation, Williams, who knew the right thing to do was to drop back defenders against the marksman Manning, told them to pin their ears back and blitz. Manning, knowing instinctively his wideouts were in single-man coverage, looked to his left. His main man, Reggie Wayne, stopped and turned around, awaiting his QB’s dart. But so was Saints cornerback Tracy Porter. In The Play Of Super Bowl XLIV, Manning telegraphed a pass that Porter stepped in front of Wayne to catch and run all the way back for a 74-yard pick-six. Game Ovah.
Once again, Debbie Downer: That silence you hear is all the talk about Manning being The Greatest Quarterback of the Modern Age, If Not Ever, evaporating in the Miami air. For all his 333 passing yards, great QB’s don’t give up plays like Porter’s interception. And once again, Indianapolis comes up just short in a big game. Shouldn’t an offense as talented as this have more than one Super Bowl ring?
And what of rookie coach Jim Caldwell? There have been many men who have taken the reins from successful coaches and, with his predecessor’s players, won a title – Barry Switzer after Jimmy Johnson, George Seifert after Bill Walsh. Let’s just say they’re not going to be in Canton anytime soon. That even Caldwell couldn’t do that, even though he followed mentor Tony Dungy for years, even though the personnel system was replenished because Bill Polian is still General Manager, does not speak well for his tenure in Indianapolis.
Caldwell said during Super Bowl week that he has a face of calmness because he’s prepared. Seeing his men in the middle of a dogfight didn’t radiate control – more like obliviousness and, as the Saints went marching down the field and scored in each of their possessions in the second half, befuddlement. I wish I could hear Naptown sports-talk radio the next few days.
And this win gives me one more chance to take a shot at the Vikings. Brees completed 32 of 39 passes for 288 yards Sunday. The Vikes held him to under 200 yards and 17-of-31 passing. Why couldn’t they stop Brees when they had a chance? And if the Saints could render Manning’s proficiency meaningless and win by 14 points, what do you think the Vikes’ chances would’ve been? This was your time. This was our time. Ours.
But back to the positive, and a giving of dap to Sean Payton. This was a case where the aggressive and excitable approach Payton instilled in his Saints got the better of the cool professionalism employed by Caldwell. But looking back, the move that made this dream season possible probably happened in early January. That was when Payton was so blown away in his interview with Williams that he sacrificed $250,000 in salary to convince Benson to hire him. It’s the best pay cut Payton has ever had.
So drink up, New Orleans, and just for once, ladies, make a heterosexual man happy and whip ‘em out, please! You’ve got a victory parade running through the French Quarter Tuesday, plus your city is already holding a nightly parade leading up to Mardi Gras next Tuesday. They say the Crescent City is the most French city in America; locals might do a very French thing and take a nine-day vacation.
Enjoy it, folks. You never know when that next hurricane comes around, or when Benson comes back to you and demands more money from you for a new stadium when the money you’re already giving him could be better spent elsewhere.
I kid. Seriously, you guys can put your Aints bags away – for now. There are going to be ups and downs with your club in the future; there always are with any team. Shoot, they could suck for the next 43 years as they have for most of the last 43. But you can always point back to this one glorious night, and this one ecstatic season, and declare that the New Orleans Saints were world champions.
Who dat, who dat, who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?!