By Anthony “Tony” from the Westbank | WhoDatNation.com
Well, Who Dat Nation, I started this morning dreaming about the Eiffel Tower, French wine, and celebrating a Saints victory in Paris. Instead, I’m sitting down here in the Catacombs, surrounded by a bunch of skulls, wondering if any of them could suit up and help our offensive line. Steelers 16, Saints 10. We flew halfway around the world to put on THAT performance? Last week, I finally picked a winner. This week, I picked us again. Somebody should’ve taken my cigar away before I made that prediction!
EIGHTEEN RUSHING YARDS! Not eighteen carries. EIGHTEEN YARDS! We had 17 rushing attempts and couldn’t even get a first down’s worth of yardage twice. Meanwhile, Pittsburgh’s Jaylen Warren ran for 101 yards by himself. Tyler Shough completed 30 of 38 passes for 278 yards and a touchdown, but when your quarterback has absolutely no running game to help him, what do you expect? Pittsburgh knew we had to throw the football, and they made us pay. I don’t care if we’re playing in Paris, Pittsburgh, or on Veterans Boulevard. You can’t win football games like that!
And here’s what really burns my backside. WE HAD A CHANCE! Down 13–10, we came out after halftime and drove all the way to Pittsburgh’s 10-yard line. I was standing up, cigar in hand, thinking maybe this team had finally figured something out. Then Shough throws an interception to Payton Wilson, and just like that, another opportunity goes straight into the Seine River. We didn’t score a single point in the second half. Pittsburgh converted 10 of 16 third downs, and Aaron Rodgers did just enough to send us home with another loss. You don’t have to be a football genius to see what’s wrong here. We’re getting pushed around when it matters most.
Now we’re 2–5, heading into the bye week, and I’m tired of hearing about potential, progress, and how close we are. Close doesn’t count in the standings! I love this team. I’ve been wearing black and gold long enough to remember when winning two games was considered a successful season. But those days are supposed to be behind us. We’ve got talent, we’ve got loyal fans who traveled across an ocean, and we’ve got a city that lives and dies with every Sunday. What we don’t have is a football team that can put together four quarters of winning football. And I’m starting to wonder how much longer we’re supposed to sit here and accept it.
So, Mrs. Gayle Benson, I’ve got one question for you: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? We’re seven games into this season, sitting at 2–5, and the same problems keep showing up every Sunday. Is anybody going to be held accountable? Is there a real plan to fix this mess, or are we just supposed to keep buying tickets, wearing our jerseys, and hoping for a miracle? The bye week is here. You’ve got time to take a long, hard look at this organization. Because right now, I’m sitting in the Catacombs of Paris, and even the dead are looking at me like they’ve had enough.
I STILL LOVE MY SAINTS. BUT GOOD LORD, THEY’RE MAKING IT HARD!
WHO DAT!
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