Hell yeah I am.
I’m angry because the NFL and the ridiculous national sports media and the fans around the league embraced our “feel-good” story when it suited them. I’m angry because we had to hear about our metaphoric rise from the ashes during the playoff run in 2009, when New Orleans was coming back just fine, thank you very much, without your help or sympathy. I’m angry because now that it’s convenient, that poor little franchise that you empathized with so whole-heartedly can now become a dumping ground for the league’s PR problems and legal issues.
I’m angry at a lifetime of watching a losing product culminating in a glorious march through a gauntlet of hall-of-fame swan songs that ended before you wanted them to being labeled by a nation of football fans as somehow tainted, when all you’ve asked of your defense for years was a presence, a culture of big hits and instilling fear in offenses.
I’m also angry at the Billy-Joes, an entire draft wasted on a pothead running back, a miracle play negated by the idiot kicker, diddley-poo, Hebert flapping his arms like a damn moron in the Dome, everything Montana ever did, the very existence of that despicable creature the falcon, the half-empty Dome that I knew so well before it was cool to be a Who Dat, the resellers who snatched up my buddy’s seat on the other side of the aisle when he missed a payment and sold every single game ticket with a 100% markup last year. I’m angry because when you’re a Saints fan, anger is the only path to sanity. It’s a defense mechanism, necessary to keep us going.
I’m even angry at things that happened before I was born. Stories from the older fans make me angry. Big Ben makes me furious, both of them. Mecom is beyond despicable. That dick Gilliam getting everyone’s hopes up in the first place. I don’t need to remember all the bad to hate it with a passion.
And now we’re some kind of overpriveleged, arrogant, obnoxious franchise to be hated by all? Fantastic. That’s the one thing I’m not angry about – the hate. It’s delicious. “But you got a Super Bowl! Be happy!” Eat me. It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, because it doesn’t affect you right NOW. I want you to be as miserable as I ever have, and that can only happen if we victimize your pitiful team again. Again. Again.
If you’re a Saints fan, you already know why I’m angry.
If you’re a fan of some other team for some ungodly reason, I’m angry because you don’t quite hate us enough for my liking. Only a mass-destruction run through the league in 2012 could settle my appetite for pissing you off. For now.
If you’re not a fan of the NFL, and you found this somehow, you should check out a game at the Dome sometime. You might change your mind. But you better show up angry. See, angry people yell a lot. And you might have heard – yelling is something we do pretty well around here.