Because no one reads the newspaper, and SportsCenter's anchors are too perky for this early in the morning, Deadspin combs the best of the broadsheets and the blogosphere to bring you everything you need to know to start your day.
It was well after Miles Austin discovered what we all knew, that the Saints don't have a secondary, yet before Breesus wished he hadn't used his power to heal DeMarcus Ware's neck. It was probably around the time Nick Folk shanked himself out of a job that I realized: I think I hate the Saints.
I don't think it's because I'm a general misanthrope that would much rather watch joyous failure than see greatness achieved. I truly am rooting against the Saints and their fans.
Because of the bandwagoning? Sure. All those stupid costumes in the stands, something we don't tolerate from the Raider fans in our lives. The pretending to be die hards, but where were they during the Aaron Brooks era? Attending games with paper s over their heads, or not attending at all
Because the racial makeup of the crowd so poorly reflects that of the city? Sure, but that could be said about most live games.
No, I think my hatred crystallized during the run-up to the Cowboys game, when people started calling New Orleans "America's Team." They're not. Just stop it. Don't tell me who to root for. Most fans are fail vampires, feeding off the misery of other fanbases. And when an out-of-nowhere team like the Saints, with their flashy offense but glaring holes, goes down just a few games from history, and their fans and media start with the hand-wringing over their .929 winning percentage? Well, that just nourishes us.
Oh, and mustache dude in the picture? I get the imagery you're going for, but it could be considered tempting fate to bring a prop that resembles your quarterback's gravestone.
It's Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! as the monster truck announcer would say. So leave the shoveling until tomorrow, put on your Snuggie, and let's see if we can't find some more delicious fail to enjoy.