On the Saints

The Saints won the NFC championship last night and are headed to the Super Bowl. Good for them. My co-workers were ecstatic over the game and I don't give a damn. I haven't been a Saints fan in years. Let me explain.

When Tom Benson threatened to move the Saints unless the state bailed him out, I thought that it sounded a lot like a tawdry divorce. One party ain't getting enough money, so they threaten to leave unless the other party coughs up the dough. That's either prostitution or abuse, depending on how you look at it.

I don't care if a pro team wins or loses if they have a stake in the area. Hell, I've been a Cubs fan for years, and for years before that, I was a Mets fan. I'll follow a losing team. I'll worry and watch and bite my fingernails. I don't mind a team going through a rough stretch, but I don't like a quitter, and the Saints lost me when they threatened to leave the state.

Listening to the fans today, I'm reminded of people stuck in abusive relationships, trying to rationalize their joy. Things are going well and when things go well, everyone is happy. When things turn sour and one party threatens to leave, that's abuse. All I've got to say to Tom Benson and his Saints is "Don't let the door hit you in the butt on the way out." Watching the fans today is like watching a battered spouse. It ain't pretty. It's a sick, sick relationship we have with the Saints and the sooner it's over the better for everyone concerned.

I despise the New Orleans Saints.