fisherconference

In 2005, the Louisiana Superdome was severely damaged by a natural disaster. The next season when they returned to play there, the Saints appeared in the NFC Championship Game. Three years later, they are the reigning Super Bowl champions. And your question to me is “why beseech God to flood LP Field?” Anyone with a lick of sense can see what we’re trying to do here.

What you should be asking me is: why not sooner?

This is a copycat league we belong to, my friend. The losers have to adapt to meet the strengths of the winners, or else you’re going to get lost in the tide of innovation.

You in the front.

Yes, that pun was intended.

This is not an organization blessed with great fortune or acclaim. We lost a Super Bowl by a single yard. If it weren’t for our batshit crazy owner, I might not have been allowed to stick around to be the head coach for this franchise for 40 years. But even I know there’s limits to everything. You have to make hay while the sun is shining. Or, to use a more topical phrasing, make a Super Bowl run while there’s water damage to your stadium.

I’m not a genius; I just know what works. And generating league-wide sympathy by being the victim of a disastrous work of a vengeful God is 100 percent guaranteed to net you a Super Bowl title. The track record proves it. You gotta problem, you can take it up with the man upstairs.

You, second row.

No, that was a reference to God. Mr. Adams’ office is down the hall.

To you pointing fingers and making leading questions, will you be the same to congratulate us when we’re hoisting the Vince Lombardi trophy next February in Dallas? I imagine your networks and publications will be among to first to indulge in the soft focus story of redemption. I hope my comments made here today will be included among the images of a ravaged community. Because I ravaged it FOR YOU, fans.

Thanks. That will be all for today. Please turn in your galoshes before exiting the facility.