my conspiracy theory
Hello, friends! Rob here.
Monday: Today is a holiday, so I'm gonna make like a hungover middle school teacher and put a video on:
Tuesday: It's fall, so this blog now contains sporadic NFL content, and will continue to do so until the league goes on indefinite 'Rona hiatus the week before my rudderless fantasy team claws its way back to .500. I'd like to start with a theory I've been nursing for a while.
It all starts on a warm February evening in Miami. The year is 2010. The New Orleans Saints, resurgent under the leadership of head coach Sean Payton and elite quarterback Drew Brees, have scrapped their way into the team's first-ever Super Bowl appearance, where they face the Indianapolis Colts as underdogs and national darlings. After a relatively uneventful first half, New Orleans is trailing by four points and fans are bracing themselves for a slow, steady disassemblage at the hands of Peyton Manning, a living legend in the prime of his career.
And then, Ambush happens.
It's rare for a football play to be given a name and canonized, and, even among rare plays like the Catch and the Immaculate Reception, Ambush stands alone. I'm not saying it's the greatest NFL play of all time, but I do believe that Ambush- a brazen call for a surprise onside kick at the start of the second half in the biggest game in the team's forty-year history- represents a unique intersection of daring and execution. It was bold. It was counterintuitive. And it worked. The Saints managed to steal a possession from one of the NFL's all-time greatest offenses and scored a touchdown on the ensuing drive. The winds shifted. New Orleans went on to win that game, providing a moment of healing and catharsis for a city still on the mend.
That's just background, though. Here's my conspiracy theory:
Ever since Ambush, Sean Payton has become addicted to his self-image as a gutsy, unconventional play-caller (to be fair, those adjectives both absolutely do apply) and has spent the past ten years chasing that first “oh my God, the crazy sonofabitch actually did it!” high he got after Super Bowl XLIV. And that is why he's so obsessed with Taysom Hill.
For anyone not aware, Taysom Hill is an undrafted quarterback out of BYU who was acquired by the Saints in 2017 after a brief stint with the Packers. Hill spent most of his first season making cameos on special teams. He blossomed in 2018, ostensibly serving as the team's third-string quarterback, but flashed elite speed and versatility in a "gadget" role on offense and special teams and drawing trodden comparisons to Swiss Army knives.
And he matters so much to Sean Payton because no one saw Hill coming. If Payton can make fetch happen with Taysom Hill, then he will have cemented his legacy as the NFL's most brilliant iconoclast. Since Ambush, everything he has done as a coach has been in service not of winning another championship, but of out-daring himself- of leaping over the bar he set back in 2010. You think Ambush was gusty? Taysom Hill is what happens when a whole person is ambush.
We had all better hope Hill works out in the long term. If he doesn't, then by 2025 Sean Payton may well take to carving up hitchhikers and scattering their remains in premeditated locations along the nation's highways in order to create a constellation across the United States in the shape of the world's first quintuple reverse.
ALTERNATE THEORY: Hill's rushing stats appear to be floundering this year because he has been working exclusively on his throwing arm. When (okay, if.) the Saints make the playoffs this year, they'll call up some ho-hum Taysom run on second down while trailing in the fourth quarter, and he'll ambush them by unloading a 40-yard touchdown bomb. That's the long con, baby. I WANT TO BELIEVE.
Wednesday: The following is a list of things that are, as of this writing, officially tired af. It is by no means comprehensive, but the entries themselves are inarguable. Elaboration will be provided as needed.
-social media posts containing the phrases “let that sink in,” full stop,” or “I'm just going to leave this right here.”
-anyone over the age of thirteen who uses terms like “alpha” and “beta” non-ironically (does not apply to zoologists or anyone involved in serious discussion of the social behaviors of pack animals)
-brand tribalism. Mind you, this is different from brand loyalty- there's absolutely nothing wrong with being like, “yeah, I'm just more comfortable with iOS at this point.” But the whole iPhone/Android “debate” is just dumb. Both device families are space-age marvels created by hideous tech companies who would siphon the marrow from your bones if they could find a way to monetize it. All corporations hate you- even the ones with friendly-looking logos. And just like with cars, the best phone is whichever one you've been using for the past three months. The same goes for PC/Mac, XBOX/PlayStation/Nintendo, and ESPECIALLY Coke/Pepsi. You know what? They're both noxious trash water. Why does “cola” get to be the default soda flavor? Cola is the only substance on earth that tastes better after you mix it with rotgut whiskey.
-Trump fans adopting the "silent majority" moniker (they are actually a minority, and also quite loud)
-the Pence fly. It was funny for a couple of days. Over it. “A fly landed on Pence!” “Oh yeah? A fly landed on Hillary four years ago!” “Here's a video of Barack Obama catching a fly!” The joke is dead and anybody whose vote hinges on the flight path of a trash bug probably shouldn't be voting anyway.
-the “socially-distant” label. Social distancing is still good, and it will continue to be good for as long as COVID-19 remains the country's foremost mass death event, but I think the phrase “socially-distant” is starting to enter “gluten-free” territory, where we abuse it to the point that it becomes rote and meaningless. It's background noise. We're probably about a month away from “socially-distant” bottled water.
-writing a lame character who starts a cheesy rap with “my name is ____ and I'm here to say...”
-me, for making this dumb list
All of the above items are CANCELED. Done.
Thursday: I'm going to be doing a bit of SOCIALLY-DISTANT traveling over the next few weekends. Between that and the band starting to get together regularly again, I might not have as much time to work on these as I have for the last couple of months. The next week or two, updates may be light on content, or plain nonexistent. I'm probably going to take a break after the election, too. (I'll either be throwing a nonstop one-man parade down St Charles Avenue, or I'll be out trying to find a spot within driving distance of my house where the water table is low enough for me to dig an underground bunker.)
Friday: Here's a jam!
