What have I done to anger the football gods this time?
I take back every complaint I had about the New Orleans Saints' 52-3 loss to Green Bay two weeks ago.  That kind of drubbing is immensely favorable to the ridiculous made-up-movie way the Saints got beat by Atlanta on Sunday.  Since very few people in their right mind waste their time watching Saints games, I'll recap the highlights for you.

Just before halftime, with the score tied at 10-10, the Saints connected on what looked to be a 17-yard touchdown pass from Aaron Brooks to Az-Zahir Hakim, but Hakim was called for offensive pass interference and the play nullified.  Two plays later, the Saints sent out kicker John Carney to try for a field goal and a lead going into the locker room.  Alas, the Falcons blocked the kick and ran it back for a 59-yard touchdown as time expired.  

Typical Saints fortunes, you might say.  But it gets worse.  Much worse.  So the Falcons are leading 17-10 at the half behind the strength of the field goal return touchdown and an earlier 66-yard fumble return touchdown. But the Saints won't go away.  They score to tie the game, only to have the Falcons march down and get back ahead.  This pattern repeats itself for the whole second half until the Saints score to tie the game at 31-31 with under a minute to go.  

The Falcons then start at their own 32-yard line with 37 seconds left.  Michael Vick marches his team down the field quickly, setting up a 41-yard field goal attempt as time expires.  Todd Peterson misses the kick.  Overtime, right?  Wrong. The Saints get called for defensive holding on the play. That's right, defensive holding on a freaking field-goal attempt.

The Alamodome crowd collectively puts its hands on its head in stunned disbelief.  Saints coach Jim Haslett's head starts to look like it's going to explode.  A string of F-bombs erupts from his mouth as the refs explain the penalty to him.  The FOX television announcers clearly believe that it's a ridiculous call to make, especially since the "holding" did not affect the play at all.   

The officials put two seconds back on the clock and Peterson nails the kick on the do-over.  Falcons win.  The cameras cut to a classic Haslett temper tantrum shot as he tries to throw his headset down, but it's still connected to his belt, so it swings around him wildly as he screams profanities.

Welcome to the Saints world.  If it ain't one thing it's another with these guys.

Remember, I have more than one exasperating team
Never mind that my emotional state going into Sunday was already shellshocked.  I had been at the Ole Miss-Alabama game the day before, where the Rebels played over their heads for most of the game before pulling one of the most flabbergasting blunders I've ever seen in real life in a 13-10 last-second loss to No. 6 Alabama.

The Rebels were down 10-7 in the middle of the fourth quarter when they drove the ball down inside the Alabama 10-yard line.  On third-and-goal from the 2-yard line, Ole Miss gets flagged for delay of game.  This is not cool at all.  But the real kick in the pants comes approximately 25 seconds later, when the Rebels manage a second delay call.  I know, it's hard to believe, but I swear I'm not making this up.  Ole Miss got called for back-to-back delay of game penalties when they were at the 2-yard line.  If you watched SportsCenter Saturday night, you saw it.

The Rebels had to settle for a field goal, and Alabama wound up winning on its own field goal as time expired.  I felt like Mike Tyson had just kidney-punched me.  To make matter worse, I lost the biggest bet I've made in years on the game, so I felt like I had been robbed and then kidney-punched by Mike Tyson.  Old-school Iron Mike too, not present day Mike.  All in all, it was a demoralizing weekend.

What shall I sacrifice?
The question now becomes tricky.  What level of sacrifice shall I make to the football gods to get them to remove this curse?  As I have no children, there is no first-born son to slay.  I'm at a loss here.  I don't think the football gods take checks, and I lost their address anyway, so money's not going to do it.  I'd gladly drive my car into the river if I knew it would ensure an Ole Miss win over Kentucky this Saturday.  (Yes, I know how sad that statement is).  Maybe I'll fast, but I don't think that will work.  The football gods are vengeful, and they want blood.  What to do?

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