Mount Up!

27 Sep

You don’t wanna step to this

I’m not really a big nickname guy. You know, your favorite message board sports thread after thread during training camp in the preseason, attempting to force some cheesy nickname on a team or squad or player. They’re almost always terrible ideas. Lame, forced, based on some obscure pop culture reference or pun. “Hey! Let’s call the defensive line Gus Fring because it’s EXPLOSIVE!”

And 145 out of 147 people think this is helpful, because 145 out of 147 people like Breaking Bad and the Saints, and this thread has both of them! Genius!

There’s a reason this nonsense never catches on (except for, of course, on that particular message board), and that’s because someone is trying too hard. Nicknames just happen. A coincidence, an accidental reference in some postgame quote, or, well, another player usually bestows a nickname that sticks.

But this isn’t an anti-nickname post. It’s just the opposite. Because, for @superdeformed, that coming together of circumstances to assign the perfect nickname has already happened for our defense.

Thanks to @WWLAMFM playing Nate ogg and Warren G after the Vacarro interception, I want the Saint’s defense to be called the Regulators.

A reasonable enough request, I think. (Here’s the song, in case you’re too young or old or oblivious to get the reference and how perfect it is.) And superdeformed isn’t letting it go.

Saints defense = the Regulators, because Regulate is a badass song

@hakimdropsball@WWLAMFM@moosedenied when the defense takes the field they can play “REGULATORRRS, mount up.”

Looks like the next stop for the Saints’ defense is the Eastside Hotel.

Also worth noting: Grandmaster Wang seems to support this proposition.

@moosedenied  22 Sep

If you smoke like I smoke then you’re high like ev-ery day, and if yo ass is a busta….

I’ll assume that’s an endorsement.

This is perfect, and not just because WWL chose the most opportune time to play it. It’s just the right amount of cheese, and choosing a nearly 20-year-old #storytime song to name your defense after screams of an understanding of the ridiculousness of all football nicknames. It’s a self-aware absurdity, and that’s the best kind.

And hell, if we’re going to celebrate a great defense in New Orleans, there’s probably no better way to do it than with a song from the early-90s. You know I’m right.

So, henceforth, the defensive unit as a whole will be referred to here as the Regulators. We only have to convince one more person: whoever the hell chooses the music in the Superdome. Honestly, do you really need to hear Crazy Train even one more fucking time? I didn’t think so.

There’s one more thing. Lovers of over-the-topness that we Saints fans are, it seems that we feel an irresistible impulse to bring every idea to its logical extreme. SportsCajun has done just that, and no matter what you think of the rest of this post, you must concede that effort of this magnitude cannot go unrecognized.

The following arrived in my inbox Wednesday afternoon. I’m very, very sorry.

It was a full 5 pounds, paid for with doubloons
Rob Ryan took his seat, trying to consume
Poboys and debris, wash it down with beer
Week 3 in the books, Week 4 drawing near
 
Just hit the south side, N-O-L-A
This dude weighs more than a Chevrolet
Hair down his back and a gut that’s nice
His 3-4 is tearing up Marty Rice
 
So he sends the rush with Junior and Curtis
Got all QBs praying Rob, don’t hurt us
Defense on the rise, foes are done
Vaccaro affects your head, pass or run
 
Rob’s boys are fierce, movin’ and stickin’
All while the DC crushes fried chicken
He takes a long pull from a slurpee cup
Burps in Mike Smith’s face and says, “Time’s up”
 
Falcons getting jacked, they hating themselves
They blame it all on Steven Jackson’s health
Fantasy owners know he’s a whammy
That broke mofo always sports a torn hammy
 
Now Vaccaro’s strapped up and cov’rin ground
Receivers’ heads sideways all turned around
Matty Ryan’s pants constantly turnin’ brown
Scam Newton’s smile is turned upside down
 
N’awlins is back
Y’all are going down
We bring the ruckus
To your home town
If Rob had wings
Let him contemplate
He eats 24, then eats 28
 
Akiem in your lips and John in your hole
Ain’t seen D like this since the Dome was Patroled
Cam’s popping y’all fools, damn it feels great
This new Saints D makes me masturbate
 
Rob put some gumbo down
Now to the commode
Then he’s switching his mind back into beat mode
If you want rings sit back and relax
Rob’s bringing bourbon and plenty of snacks
 
Now Junior’s got the sacks
And that’s a known fact
Before we got jacked, the Saints were on track
Back up back up cause it’s on
R-O-B and we
Saints fam-i-ly
 
And as we dance
Rog is pissing his pants
In need of some desperate fines
But this time Rog, we ain’t inclined
That shit you pulled was fucked up as hell
And now they know your lies
We say your league’s broke down, and Rob wants his ring,
with a side of fries
We got a Dome full of fans and the defense is swole
The next stop is the Super Bowl
 
I’m geeking about a whole new era
Saints D,
Step to this, I dare ya’
Sacks on a whole new level
Our defense is best when the coach is disheveled
 
Dogs
Rings
He brings
Filigree
Rob Ry
Where eating is life
And life is eating
 
If you eat like he eats
You don’t want to step to him
It’s a gin drink era
Tricked out with lemon twist
If you roll like he rolls
Then you win like every game
And if your ass is a buster
Matty Ice is your nickname
 
 

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