I had already adopted a version of this attitude during preseason, when the Saints looked shaky to begin with. But today's news that Drew Brees could be out for weeks with an injured shoulder means this season is almost certainly washed out. I believe in miracles of a football kind, but the past two showings have brought out the raging pragmatist in me. The Saints may rally around Luke McCown, but the good football will be harder to come by.
Just as well. I saw a comment today that Saints fans have been insufferable since the team won the Super Bowl, still acting haughty five years after the fact. In retrospect, I guess I wasn't the best person in the first few years, really stuffing it to friends and family when things didn't go as well. This never happened in the 1990s, when the Saints were mostly forgettable, or in the mid-2000s when we forgot them all over again. It's not as exciting to watch in years like these, but it's so much better for the blood pressure (and for human harmony).
Last night, I hung out with a group of work friends (a nascent trend that also contributes to my more indifferent NFL perspective). Among them was a Detroit Lions fan who was furious about his team's 26-16 loss to the Minnesota Vikings earlier in the day. He sounded exactly like I did during most good-era Saints losses.
"They were supposed to be good," he said. "I picked them to go all the way. That's what makes this hurt so bad."
"Yeah, I hear you," I replied. "It's always worse when they're supposed to be good."
And then, subconsciously following Ralph Malbrough's advice, we all had good food and went to a movie.
Pay heed, Seahawks fans. You'll need this advice. I hope.