The Hippest Fluidity

31 Mar

Barkevious Mingo 0.5, reportedly

Yeah, I’m still here. No, sit down. You’re too kind. I haven’t written enough this offseason, so here’s a largely link-free stream-of-thought post on the offseason so far. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, google it. I shouldn’t have to do ALL the work around here.

Thesis statement! This fucking offseason is taking forever.

Really quick (I know, yeah right), before we get started on the building of (enter your terrible 2013 defense nickname idea here), it’s time we closed the ol’ casket on that whole bounty thing. I know, but we haven’t done it officially here on this blog, and it’s fitting that we can do so on this note: friend of the blog Reid Gilbert of SaintsWin wrote the book on bountygate. No, seriously, he wrote the fucking book. Buy it. Read it.

It’s good. It doesn’t contain anything you haven’t already heard if you’ve been watching closely since last March, and there’s not a single dinosaur, but within Reid manages to tie a massive amount of well-researched and cited information beautifully together into a glorious series of electronically-readable electrodes to the testicles of Goodell and all his Legitimate Media accomplices, spelling out a laughable (as you well know) series of events in a way that even your asshole non-Saints fan friend will understand as a trainwreck. It’s the definitive account of bountygate from a non-media perspective, so read it now and you won’t have to buy some shitty Duncanic media-apology piece in 2 or 3 years.

When you get done reading, you are then allowed to cleanse yourself of bountygate forever. Build a fire and burn that fucking book, shotgun a bottle of whiskey, pray over the fire for a while, cut your palms and make a blood oath to never think about it again. Sacrifice a pig to the football gods and beg and plead that they never put us through this horseshit or anything like it again. Whatever your religion calls for is fine – I’m not here to judge. When you get done, you might as well have a kickass barbecue to celebrate the occasion, since you’re drunk and you already have a fire and a dead pig – Jesus, do I really have to spell this out for you?

(Disclaimer: please do not burn the book because it’s only available electronically, and your wife is going to be really pissed about the kindle. Also, The Angry Who Dat does not endorse the shotgunning of whiskey on account of it comes in a glass container and that seems really fucking irresponsible.)

Let’s talk about that defense. Rob Ryan’s making some changes! Hope he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, one thing’s for sure, the defense can’t get any worse!”

No, asshole, that’s not for sure, and I wish you’d stop saying it was. It absolutely can get worse. It can always get worse. Goddamnit, if the defense gets any worse I’m holding you personally responsible. The worst possible defense would allow a touchdown on the first play from scrimmage, every single time. When that happens, it can’t get any worse. In 2012, that happened barely once or twice a game. So you just watch your whore mouth.

It’s okay, though, because I don’t think it’ll get worse. I think it’s already better. Just look, we signed a cornerback already. Every Saints fan had to immediately be happier with the defense as soon as he or she heard that Keenan Lewis had signed. “Hell yes,” you said, “We just landed KEENAN LEWIS!” Okay, maybe not that, not immediately. My reaction was slightly more tentative: “Wait, who the hell is Keenan Lewis? (googles “keenan lewis cornerback”) Oh, he’s from the Steelers. (clicks Steelers message board in search results) Holy shit. They’re not too happy. Hell yes. We just landed KEENAN LEWIS! (Sean Payton fist pump)”. I’m convinced he’s the right guy. Why? His name sits perfectly between “everybody fucks it up” and “totally easy to spell,” in the gray area known as “Saints fans will subtly fuck it up on the internet for years, but just enough to make you question whether you should correct them.” I love it.

And it’s not like Rob stopped there. Hell no. The creepy gray-haired nightmare we’ve all grown to love over the last month (or something like that) has set his mind to revamping the entire secondary (except the half that plays safety). Traceey Porter got a visit. Nnamdi Asomugha even spent a nice day having lunch with his old buddy at Undetermined Fine Eating Establishment in Metarie, tossing back a couple beers and discussing whatever the fuck Rob Ryan and Nnamdi Asomugha discuss in their spare time. Really, try to imagine that bonding session. It’s too bad Nnamdi’s apparently committed to riding the fence all the way to September on this one. MAKE A DECISION, NNAMDI. Asomugha’s standing on the fence. Waving his dick around. He’s making the fence his bitch. And I love him for it, in that Saints-y way that we all love the things that hurt us.

Also noteworthy: his name. Holy shit, will Saints fans fuck that up on the internet. MAKE IT HAPPEN, LOMMIS.

Victor Butler! Youth! I like it. I think. They say he’s pretty good on some websites and stuff. His sack per obvious passing down played adjusted (SOPDPA) is above average for pass rushers who play less than a third of their team’s snaps on the road in the NFC, or something like that (I think I made that up, but it’s totally possible PFF pulled it out of their asses at some point – if so, my plagiarism was unintentional). He has to be good, because Rob Ryan knows him, and Rob Ryan wants him, and we all know Rob Ryan knows what he’s doing.

“I thought you said we didn’t know if Rob Ryan knows what he’s doing.”

But you said the defense can’t get any worse. If Rob Ryan is making all these changes, and the defense isn’t going to get any worse, then he obviously knows what he’s doing. QED, douchebag.

( My wife just walked in. Wife: “Oh, shit, is it football season already?” Me: “No, it’s – what?” Wife: “You have that goofy smile like you’re writing the blog thing again and you’re really proud of yourself for some stupid joke.” TRUE LOVE, folks. )

Downside (we’re still talking about Butler if you lost track): His name is two actual words, spelled correctly. No way anyone fucks that up. I even checked his middle name. Allen. Lame.

Lastly, the Saints may or may not have signed Kenyon “Refrigerator” Coleman. (Get it? GET IT? Never mind.) He’s on the fence, or he has a handshake deal, or he’s waiting in line at Kinko’s. Doesn’t matter. For the purposes of this blog post, we’ll just assume he’s a Saint, because I already gave him an awesome nickname. I don’t know who the fuck he is, but hell yeah, folks – WE GOT KENYAN COLEMAN. Two thoughts:

  1. Payton and Loomis have apparently given Rob Ryan carte blanche to just put together a Dream Team of ex-Rob Ryan defensive players. That’s what Rob wants, and that’s what Rob’s getting. I think it’s an indicator, more than anything else, that we need to just sit back and have faith in Ryan until he proves otherwise. If Payton and Loomis believe, who am I to argue? It’s not like someone with the full backing of that Dynamic Duo is going to create the worst defense ever to play a team sport. Right? RIGHT?
  2. Coleman’s first name. That’s spectacular. The over/under on message board thread titles to slip an A in there is 40%, at least. If you can get 30%, take that action immediately. I can’t wait.

Now if Ryan has that much power right now, think about draft day. Who do we take round 1? (No, goddamnit, Barkevious won’t be there. I’m disappointed too. I had this awesome thing where I was going to call him “Barky Bark” all the time and annoy the shit out of you.) It’s fun to think about.  No, I’m not going to predict who it is, because we don’t do mock drafts here, because mock drafts are usually fucking stupid. New subsection!


First of all, without googling, can you explain what a 3-cone drill is? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Amateur internet mock drafts, besides being almost always wrong (oh, but you’ll live for years off of that one time you played GM for the Bengals in your Message Board Experts Draft and picked that one guy in the seventh round who was pretty kind of okay that year, won’t you?), all too often ignore the intangibles. Will Jonathan Reynolds from Western Ohio Agricultural be inspired to destroy the man across from him by the mere sight of a 300-pound playsheet-toting Gollum? How smoothly does Kendrick Thomas out of Sacramento State fake an injury to give the defense a break (FLUID HIPPOS)? Is Bajuiviannne Rijannannarfth from North Alabama College of Science and Technology a fucking sociopath who lives only to inflict injury on his fellow man?

You haven’t thought about any of that, have you? That’s why your mock draft sucks.

I want one thing, and beyond that I’ll trust The Trifecta to make the right decision. Find a way to put Jamie Collins on this team.

“Oh god, homer homer pfft yuck *rolls eyes*”

Oh, sure. YOU have a problem with homerism. You, the guy who roots for the gigantic university in the BCS conference whose campus you couldn’t point out on the map, with the million dollar salary cap. That one that sends five players to the pros every week or so. Well, fuck you. You take it for granted. Around here we don’t get the draft day opportunity to play the blind homer card too often, so when we do, we do it with gusto. COOSA! COOSA! COOSA!

Plus, you know, he has all the measurables. Did you see his time in the 3-cone?

3 Responses to “The Hippest Fluidity”

  1. Himself April 1, 2013 at 6:37 am # draft analysis of Jamey Collins:

    “Lacks sand in his pants…”

    And if he did have sand, they’d probably criticize him for not having metal shavings. Draftniks are morons. I bet not one of them (unlike me) had the Saints taking both Jermon Bushrod AND Usama Young. Now there’s glory for you.

    • The Angry Who Dat April 1, 2013 at 10:28 am #

      Sand in his pants? That’s a new one by me. What does that even mean?

  2. majesticsparrow April 1, 2013 at 12:49 pm #

    I get the whole get over the “bountygate bullshit bureau of pond pus journalism” for which Goody Girly Boy oversees; however, as a Saints fan for over 30 years, NO one will let us. And the VERY FEW Saints fans that I knew in this two-story town hid their hats, jerseys, whatever in the closet so they wouldn’t be hassled. Two things, they must not be Saints fans and I wore something Saints (I have a lot) every single day. I was hoping someone would say something to me, which of course they did. The only question I had for them was this: Who’s your team? In every single case, save one, it was Atlanta, Niners or the “We really need to look at our hiring and firing people” – San Diego Chargers. Atlanta gets a pass. They hate us period! (Right back at ya……period) It wouldn’t be much fun to argue bountygate with a Dirty Bird, their brain pans are not that large. The niners have been a thorn in my side (personal reasons) forever it seems so I could care less. They get a pass. The Chargers – I don’t think so. By the time I get done with them, they’re not so cock-ish. The other team, the Patriots, (where every time Brady is face-planted by opposing defense, well, that’s like a hug from Jesus), I’d ask, “Really, you want to play that card. Let’s talk about glass houses.” So, it really won’t make much of a difference for me to forget it, cause they have to have something of a comeback when, and we will, kick their ass. All I’m pretty well preparing is simply this: Is that all you got – weak.”

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