Back in the day, when I lived in New Orleans, my Saints season tickets were both a blessing and a bane. When the Saints were winning, there was no problem finding someone to go the games with me. But there were plenty of times when I drove to the Superdome holding my tickets out the window and waiting for the friendly pedestrian scalper to offer me next to nothing for my unused tickets.
I cheered, I danced, I ate many a nasty Dome Dog, drank I don't know how many beers, cocktails and daiquiris. I wore the colors. Laughed when hecklers yelled that they watched "Gone With The Wind" and fast forwarded to see Atlanta burn, over and over. And I believed in the Saints. But sure as shit, time after time, the Saints would lose it in the last quarter. Leading by 10 points, the Saints seemed to take a fall to the mat and lose it all in the remaining 4 minutes.
To amuse myself, I began spinning empty Domino's pizza boxes over the rail to the loge seats. If ever you sat in the Dome and were beaned by a pizza box, ice or other flying object, it was probably me. But I defer to blame to the Saints. If those doggone idiots had kept me interested, you would have escaped injury. Once I threw confetti and the aging couple in front of me made the fatal error of showing displeasure. Duuuuude, don't do that, that just encourages me. At the close of the game, the old man turned around to glare at me and say, "I hope you die before next season." I laughed and said in my best and friendliest sorority girl voice, "You tooooooooo!"
Back to the Saints rant,
Then I finally had a moment of clarity. You can have a winning team or you could have a profitable team. Tom Benson chose profitable. Heck, he didn't even have to pay for a stadium. Mo' money, mo' money.
And I am bitter. Just like you wish some past boyfriends well and some you wish the worst kind of hell to visited upon them, I consider the Saints to be an ex-boyfriend of the latter ilk. Their losses bring me a joy. I love to hear talk of the team moving to another state.
I had some good times in the Dome. Been there, done that. Not gonna do it again. Who dat talkin' 'bout beatin' them Saints? Not me. Don't care.