The Saints bring hope to millions plus one

January 20, 2007 at 1:08 am | Posted in clif, football (american) | 4 Comments

I don’t really care about the millions though.

Well, let me clarify.  I care about their plight; what all those people went through, losing their homes, starving and dying and how the government didn’t do anything before, during or after the hurricane to help them.  What I don’t care about is how the Saints (in their sporting capacity) have helped raise their spirits.  Let’s face it, this is a story manufactured and disseminated by the media.  While I’m sure the people of New Orleans are excited about the success of their local football team, I’d be surprised if the fervor there is measurably greater than it is in Chicago, Indianapolis or Massachusetts.  And if the latter three are less ecstatic, it’s due to the been-there-done-that factor, not the just-been-through-a-natural-disaster factor.

 But the Saints have brought some real hope to one I care about.  Me. 

I grew up with an older brother that was like most older brothers, I suppose.  He’s smarter, funnier, better looking, better in social situations, better at pretty much everything than I am.  Plus, he’d pick on me sometimes and I was younger and weaker so all I could do was get in the classic younger brother defense, getting on the sofa and sticking my arms and legs in the air to ward him off.  You know, the defense that never actually works.  I once threw a role of wallpaper at him, but he ducked and the roll went through the wall which I got grounded for.  What a jerk, right?  By the time I out-grew him, he had stopped teasing me and we were pretty close friends.

So what do the Saints have to do with all this?  You see, I never got a chance to pay my brother back for all the humiliation he heaped on me in our youth.  But, I’m a Saints fan and he’s a Patriots fan so his comeuppance is ever so close.   If the two teams can win on Sunday and the Saints can best the Pats in the Super Bowl, years of injustices will be undone.  I’ll finally be able to rub it in his face that I’m better than him at something: I’ll be better at being a fan of the reigning Super Bowl Champs.   It’s not much, but it’s a start.  Plus, if I keep my face rubbing internal, I can be better at pretending to be a good sport.  It’s a two-for-one bargain.

I think there’s a pretty good chance of this happening, too.  The Bears have been prone to self-destruction this year and the Saints have been playing well enough to take advantage of that.  In the other game, as I said in my last post, as long as Bill Belichick continues wearing cutoff hoodies, I’ll keep picking  the Patriots to win.  This week in Indianapolis’ dome, he’ll cut the sleeves off even higher and cruise to an easy victory. 

What timing!  My brother just sent this:

Peyton Manning, after living a full life, died.  When he got to heaven God was showing him around.

They came to a modest little house with a faded Colts flag in the window.  “This is your house for eternity Peyton” said God.  “This is very special, not everyone gets a house up here.”

Peyton felt special indeed, until he noticed another house just around the corner.  It was a three story mansion with a silver and blue sidewalk, a fifty foot tall flagpole with an enormous Patriot’s flag, and in every window a New England Patriots towel.

Peyton looked at God and said “God, I’m not trying to be ungrateful but I have a question.  I was an all pro QB, I hold many NFL records, I even went to the Hall of Fame.” 

God said “So what’s your question Peyton?”

“Well, Why does Tom Brady get a better house than me?”

God chuckled and said, “Peyton, that’s not Brady’s house, it’s Mine!”

Next week, after the Saints and Patriots win, I’m going to send this joke right back to him, replacing Manning with Brady and turning God into a Saints fan.  That’ll show him.

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  1. i think aaron and i and you and chad are similar. except that now aaron is better than me at everything. but there was a time when we were kids when i was better than him. one time we were playing football in our basement and i tackled him into a filing cabinet. his head slammed against the corner of the filing cabinet and he needed stitches. more stitches than i got when i feel off our bunk beds and my forehead landed on one of his legos (which he used to sleep with).

  2. i’m crying right now. from the story and the picture. but also from brian telling the world that i used to sleep with legos. don’t hate. they were the big legos. you know, the ones for kids with down syndrome. and who’s to say that i didn’t sleep with them just to crack brian’s head open?

  3. Brian, we are more similar than you think, you brothers and we. Clif is now, naturally, better than I am at most things. The warranty on my brain expired when I turned 30, Clif is bigger and far more attractive to the ladies than my scrawny snaggle-toothed, furry-nostrilled self and he’s much more of an entertaining read. I mean, just look at that picture of Belichick. Priceless!

    But he still doesn’t have the opportunity to tell me that the Saints are better than the Pats. For that, he’ll just have to keep on waitin’.

  4. So I heard that the Saints lost from a friend and I had this sudden surge of anger and disappointment and sadness. And I was like “why? I don’t even care about football at all…” then I realized it was because I’m on your side. And all those emotions were for you! Yes! And I don’t even have an elder sibling.


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