Thoughts on the nature of losing
And all these years when we’d play our best and take a fourth-quarter lead against the likes of the Niners (when they were the best) or the Rams (when they were good) and we’d somehow, someway play our underachieving hearts out, and claw and scratch and fight only to yet again valiantly dislodge defeat from the sure jaws of victory, all that time, I was foolish enough to think that our opponents took neither solace nor pleasure in our latest foolish, if hard-fought, defeat.

Now, at long last, in the midst of what I am forced to admit must surely be our season of density, I realize the truth: the Niners, Rams and all the other dream-destroyers of our past were loving every sad, sordid, agonizing, back-breaking, unbelievable and completely demoralizing moment of it.

And as surely as the Black-and-Gold faithful would sit there on their couches or even there at the Dome and watch the entire tragedy unfold in a gut-wrenching mix of horror and revulsion, the Niners faithful were sitting on their couches or in their stadium as calm as could be, quietly confident that their boys—if given even the slightest chance late enough in the game—would come up with some way to win, no matter how unlikely, and even if they’d theretofore played like a mound of steaming dog poop.

How do I know all of this? Because we are now they and they are now us. The 2009 Saints have literally forgotten how to lose. After watching what we did to Miami and then Atlanta and now Washington, I’ve become convinced that the 2009 Saints simply don’t know how to lose a football game.

The Saints now win when they should win; and they win when either team should win; and they even win when they haven’t the slightest right to win. It’s as if winning (like losing) has become self-fulfilling prophesy. We win not because we should, but because we win.

It’s not just about the X’s and O’s – surely the Redskins offensive coordinator outcoached Greg Williams yesterday. It’s not just about the skill of the players on the field – how many times did our hapless rookie corner (who someday will be skillful enough to stop some of those completions) get burned for big gains yesterday? And it’s not even about effort – frankly, the Redskins gave what looked to be near-100% effort on almost every play. Right now, for both the Saints and the Redskins, it comes down to the nature of winning. Some teams win. Some teams lose. That’s it.

When the Redskins lined up for the 23-year-yard field goal (23 yards?! … that’s practically an extra point!!) that would’ve put the game out of reach even for these miraculous Saints, several Saints players reported that they knew the kicker would miss. Why? Because the Saints still believed they were going to win the game. And if the Redskins made the kick, they reasoned, it would be exceedingly difficult—if not impossible—for the Saints to win. So the Redskins would just have to miss. Makes sense, right? Uh, no. It kind of doesn’t. But the miss happened.

And did y’all see Drew Brees’ body language after the ball sailed wide right? Did he look even slightly nervous about the task of driving 80 yards with no time outs to tie the game? No. He looked excited, ready, and most of all, confident. As he yanked his helmet on, you could practically hear him telling his receivers and his linemen, "Let’s go win this game."

I was sitting on my couch and the same thought crossed my mind. "Wow," I thought, "After all of that, the Saints are going to win this game." This, while we were losing by seven points and were still 80 yards away from paydirt. I knew we’d win because…well, I guess, because we win.

I’ll leave y’all with an excerpt from Hogs Haven. It’s funny and it’s sad, but most of all, it’s completely recognizable. What dude is describing is something any true Saints fan will recognize just like they recognize their own darn face. It’s a description of a team so mired in its own unfathomable ability to lose that the losing itself becomes its own reason for being. Frankly, at this point, the Redskins aren’t losing because of coaching (they play hard) or quarterback play (Campbell had a career day) or offense (they rolled up and down the field on us) or defense (we couldn’t run the ball to save our lives) or anything else tangible or quantifiable. These Redskins are losing for no good reason other than because they are losing. There’s no other explanation.

Here’s dude’s quote. I feel his pain.

"The Kareem Moore interception-strip-touchdown play was as magnificent as it was devastating. Those kinds of plays are so rare, fans of some teams could go a lifetime without enduring the pain of watching it happen to their boys…at their home stadium…3 times in less than a decade.

The series of misfortunes that transpired to effect the result of yesterday’s game rivaled the events that knocked out Mr. Burns’ team of destiny. [He’s talking about a Simpsons episode where Burns’ entire team of major league ringers got knocked out of the starting lineup by an increasingly unlikely series of unfortunate events.] The deadly challenge reviews, the shanked Saints punt that hit Kevin Barnes in the back ("The ball just wanted to hit me. It found me," Barnes said after the game), the unbelievably poor-timed, late interception thrown by Jason Campbell, the missed chip shot by Shaun Suisham…SERENITY NOW!!"

How classic is that? "The ball just wanted to hit me." Unbelievable, but so true.

I’m out.

P.S. And then the Vikings got their s*** handed to them Sunday night giving us a two-game lead with four to go in the race for homefield advantage through the playoffs.

I know one thing: we had BETTER win the big one this year. The Football Gods have apparently decided it’s our time. And woe be unto they who disregard the gods.