The Saints will never be in it.
That’s my prediction.
I don’t even watch the Superbowl. Haven’t for years. Used to tune in for the last two minutes — when most of the action, if there is any, generally happens — but don’t even do that anymore. Most of the time, I don’t even know who’s playing. When I do bother to find out, it’s often teams I’ve never heard of. Ravens, Titans, Panthers — who the hell are they?
When people ask me why I don’t follow professional football, I have a ready answer: “I’m from New Orleans.” Translation: I’ve seen the Saints snatch defeat from the jaws of victory too many times.
When I was a teenager, a friend of mine’s family had season tickets for the Saints and I often got invited along. That was way back when, when they still played in Tulane Stadium (home of the Sugar Bowl at the time). The only exciting thing that ever happened was when Tom Dempsey kicked a 63-yard field goal at the very end of a game, giving the Saints an undeserved victory over the Detroit Lions. My friend and I were already on the exit ramps, ogling women, and missed the whole thing.
Twenty years later, a girlfriend invited me to a game in the Superdome, and I reluctantly accepted. The Saints scored a touchdown just before the two-minute warning and were up by 14. At that point, I turned to her and said: “They’re going to lose.” Sure enough, the opposing team returned the kickoff for a touchdown. They recovered an onside kick and scored again. Then, they intercepted a pass or recovered a fumble and kicked a field goal, scoring 17 points in two minutes and winning by three. Unbelievable, and inevitable. Diehard fans are one thing, but anyone who will put up with that kind of crap year after year is certifiably insane.
Who dat say they gonna beat them Saints? Well, just about everybody.
Anyone want to buy my Monty Stickles autograph?