The Bayou Casuals

Gulf Coast Sports with a Whole Lotta Lagniappe

We love the Saints, Texans, Astros, LSU Tigers, Rockets, Pelicans, and more. Because it’s okay to be polyteamorous.

  • Don’t Be Betting, Y’all. Here’s Why.

    I had a really lovely Tex-Mex lunch with a close buddy of mine a couple of days ago – a guy who’s seen it all in Classic Vegas, and used to service slot machines for a living.

    As he told me, “Those machines are designed to drag you in, and take all your money.”

    We talked further, and he brought up the fact that Vegas is losing millions because Vegas used to make money on casinos and drinks – things Gen Z is not doing (my generation, X, ducked out on that too), because they’re not going to “Disney Vegas” to gamble or drink. We have poker and cheaper drinks at home.

    Holy lord…

    We went on, further.

    Vegas is losing money from lack of gambling. They’re adding ridiculous fees onto everything. Nobody wants to go to Vegas anymore. It’s a sad-sack version of its 1950s heyday. And guess what’s taken its place, in order to keep the Disnified Strip alive:

    Online sports betting.

    “THE CROWN IS YOOOUUURS”

    No, the “crown” is not “yours.” Watch some John Oliver – you only get the “crown” if you’re excessively in debt. About six figures in debt. Put down your bet, go to your local costume store (before it too gets taken over by a doggie day care, paycheck loan place, or nail salon – even the Spirit can’t beat the mosquitoes), buy yourself a crown, and some $5 LED lights. Treat yourself to that, because you didn’t give away money to a butthole parlay. Or, give it to your kid if you have one, because you didn’t give away their college fund.

    If you were trying to put $100k on Kyle Pitts this year, you are not to be trusted with that, and should send it to me instead so I can temporarily retire for three years, and I will send you back WAY more reliable dividends than anything involving Kyle Pitts.

    I’ve now gone off topic. Okay. Whew. Back to it:

    1. Vegas is trying to kill you and take all your money.
    2. I’m in the Tom Grossi camp: if I’m taking money from sports betting, I’m about to be literally homeless. It’s a cry for help.
    3. If you’re reading this, you’re probably a good person. Don’t bet on sports. If you have to, do it like my actual buddy Norm Macdonald: in a back room in Atlantic City that smells like smoke and piss – the way sports betting was meant to be. When you lose everything and end up in the middle of a desert, because both your wife and Elle McPherson have dumped you, eat a grilled cheese in a diner and start over. Maybe do a secret show in Houston.

    My friend was absolutely right, as we shoveled some tasty beans into our respective faces. Vegas is trying to scam you. The crown is piss. And I’m gonna go full Tom Grossi and reject any sponsorships that encourage gambling. I’ll sooner live in my car with Who Cat than take that cash I desperately need.

    Oh God, I hate being a decent person.

    Well, there you have it. As Mark Twain said, “take these words as guidance, but move a little that way and go have fun about five feet to the left.”*

    *Mark Twain never said that. I just made it up. He did say that people believe anything, more than 100 years ago. But you believed it.

    DO BETTER, HUMANS. Read a short story called “Journalism in Tennessee.”

    -Andy

    —

  • It is okay to be polyteamorous. With caveats.

    I’m getting devoured by the effing whatever God thought was fair to visit on the Gulf Coast. I am not about to speak that bug’s name, lest another one find its way to the thigh I just worked out today. Eff that bloodsucking bug of which we will not speak.

    In 1998, I was the minister for my college friend’s wedding. That was the first time I’d ever been to New Orleans. Getting lost on a 7-hour drive from Atlanta, and ending up in the pitch dark at the gate of a 300-year-old cemetery was one of those moments where you realize this might be where you wanna be y’at, but the person you with might not feel so much so.

    What I learned on that trip was that no city had a team so woven into its DNA like New Orleans. I’d grown up in Toledo, and in my childhood, I’d watched Lions and Browns fans start bandwagoning the Chicago Bears in 1985. Who didn’t? Everybody loved Refrigerator Perry. My teenage sister became a “Fridgette” overnight, and she has never liked football.

    Taking in the breath of New Orleans – which honestly felt like inhaling a stanky towel into my lungs at the time, years before I adjusted to the Gulf Coast “air you can wear” – made me so angry I wanted to fight for it. I liked the east part, near Jackson Square. But that’s neither here nor there – I need to continue the story.

    I hadn’t cared about an NFL team since I was a toddler watching the Steelers with my Grandpa, in protest, because some of us had to “stay in the kitchen,” and I wouldn’t. I loved Lynn Swam, Mean Joe, and Terry Bradshaw.

    And when I grew to adulthood, as someone who had only loved college football before my college roommate introduced me to New Orleans and I saw firsthand how much the Saints were in that beautiful city’s DNA, I never knew how much I could love an NFL team again.

    I’ve been Saints through and through. Cried my gd eyes out watching Steve Gleason block the punt, on my six-inch-screen TV, far from New Orleans. I’d just sold my antique dining room set with a discount from $300 to 20 bucks because somehow a Katrina refugee had made it from New Orleans to Toledo, Ohio – where I’d escaped to again for more misery.

    A year later, I found myself in Houston, because maybe 10% of people in Toledo can make enough money to live anywhere other than the street. (Houston is not much better 20 years after the fact, but the people are nicer at least.)

    The Houston Texans were the worst football team I’d ever seen in my life. David Carr was HORRIBLE. Then Matt Schaub had a decent run for a couple years, but oh my God, what an awful team. Other than JJ Watt. He was fun.

    The gd football team in my adopted city was feeling a lot like the Saints of old.

    Why can you NOT love two teams? Ask Mike Florio (Vikings and Steelers), Denis Leary (Patriots and Vikings), and so many others?

    Once you get to a certain age, you either stay young, or you turn into until guy who stomps on his own kid’s head because the kid won’t pick a team. If you’re the latter, go fk yourself.

    For the rest of us: it is OKAY to be polyteamorous. I’ve digitally met a bunch of people I consider friends, because Fk the Falcons.

    But lemme throw this polyteamory guidance out there:

    1. Do not pick a second team in the same division, holy fk, the only people who do this are influencers who want to twerk in front of the “hot new boba tea spot-uh”
    2. Do not pick the Falcons at all. You know what, some of y’all gonna do it, I honestly give up
    3. At least keep it in the region. I have a friend who is a Dolphins fan, and we just historically get on by.
    4. Falcons are poop from a butthole and we gon’ either Shough up or Rattle Asslanta
    5. I lived in Atlanta for 4.5 years, it was a fkn nightmare and gave me lifelong panic disorder
    6. You can pick ANY TWO TEAMS YOU WANT and no teen on IG can tell you otherwise

    Saints/ Texans for the chip,

    Andy

    —

  • Helpful tips for Texans and Saints fans in the offseason

    Dear Gulf Coasters:

    We are very much in Dem Dark Days for NFL fans. Whether you’re in Houston or New Orleans – or anywhere in between – parts you didn’t even know you had are sticking to themselves. Pete Prisco is offering horribly unfounded takes on your team(s) for engRagement.* You can’t care about hockey or basketball. What do you do?

    Here are some ways to pass the time.

    1. Start a group chat with your fellow football fans. They are every bit as bored as you right now, and will somehow appreciate your crappy Saints and/or Texans memes. You can start an Instagram account specifically for that so you don’t have to individually text them, and then get hated on by strangers a year later for having a bunch of posts and eventually only 200 quality followers. (On second thought, don’t do that. It sucks.)
    2. Check out your local Goodwill for gear on the cheap. (Westheimer and Shepherd netted these, a Yordan Alvarez jersey, plus buttons and a koozie for less than 20 bucks. A California bandwagon’s loss is your gain!)
    3. Learn how to do basic HTML, because I clearly do not remember shit about it anymore (see above).
    4. Saints fans: pick up the tuba. This should go without saying, because Saints fans will produce a tuba out of thin air. I want somebody to GoFundMe a tuba. Never mind, maybe not; my cat will get lost in it, and one morning I’ll pick it up and try to play “Do Whatcha Wanna,” and on the first “BLUUURRRRP” my cat will fly out the tuba and across the room and knock down my Jeremy Peña bobblehead, and then disappear somewhere into my studio for a week.
    5. For Houstonians: the city has just knocked down the old Meridian, which had become a nexus of beautiful street art. If you’re talented, or even if you’re not, go spray up something in its honor. Especially if it’s the concrete going up for the new useless highway expansion. Tag the hell out of that. Go to City Hall on a public comment day and spray the mayor. Hit up that old Enron complex. Is anyone using that cursed joint? If you’re feeling extra saucy, break into the Astrodome and build out the bones of the fucking entertainment complex it should be. Call me first, I’ll bring the duct tape and Sharpies.
    6. For New Orleanians: go check out the favorite candidate running for mayor, she seems devoted. And go buy some shit from the Factory of Weird, because I need that place to still be open when I go back in the next six months. Take care of y’alls rookies. I’ve been enjoying the videos and photos of them loving the city that should be the model for every other city. Other than possibly Buffalo, what city has their football team woven into the DNA of their everyday life? And I can tell you firsthand: Buffalo is ASS. There is a reason those fans spray each other with condiments and jump on folding tables. It is because they all have a death wish, because they live in Buffalo. New Orleanians have a death wish too, but it’s gonna involve alcohol poisoning, being killed by a ghost, or being hit in the head by a spontaneous tuba. Which one would you prefer? Food is better in New Orleans. So is the weather and the job market (barely).

    To quote one of my favorite songs of all time, “Whatever you do… do it good.” This world is an ugly state of affairs, but as long as we have football, we got a li’l sum’.

    Hang in there, and much love,

    Andy

    *I coined this term and want royalties

    —

  • Why Pride Month matters, and so does Men’s Mental Health Month

    So, we’re back to the usual yearly battle again. Pride Month “vs” Men’s Mental Health Month.

    Let’s put aside the fact that there are a lot of gay and trans men who deserve the same mental health resources everyone deserves. A trans man – who is one of my closest friends – smoked my 10-man in fantasy this past year and we almost got into a fistfight over the ring. (He’s awesome.)

    There are definitely some concurrent crises happening in the present time. Social media insists that masculinity needs to involve anger and violence for clicks and likes, and that being different or queer immediately discounts you from any opinions on football (in particular) or even baseball or any other sport. And people are responding to Men’s Mental Health Month posts with “LOL SUCK IT UP BRO, YOUR [sic] SOFT.” Big words from little teens.

    Nobody knows who I am yet, and I’ve been trying to keep it that way because I’m a queer person that knows an insane amount about ball. I used to actually PLAY football with my star quarterback dad, because I loved it, and still do. I keep pushing back the podcast because I am trying to prepare myself for the hate that will come from the reveal that I’m a person with boobs who has zero interest in being “hot” and a “lady” and “pretty.”

    I ain’t no lady. I’ve been called “pretty,” but I give zero fucks about what my meat suit looks like. I can sure throw a 20-30 yard dime and bruise ya chest, because I inherited my dad’s cannon arm. That feels pretty good, because he wanted me to be the first “girl place kicker” in the NFL. I tried it out in the front yard. I still am ass at kicking. I’m very good at throwing the pill.

    In short, give people a chance to be who they are.

    The LGBTQ community and men of all stripes are both in big trouble right now. You can go to any comment section on social media and know many men are currently in a giant mental health crisis. As the saying goes, “hit dogs holler.” We gotta swing this pendulum back. Men deserve to be complex beings with the entire litany of emotions humans experience, and deserve guidance to express them in healthy ways.

    Men are awesome. Women are awesome. Those who don’t really feel like either are awesome. Humans deserve more than to be relegated to whatever box the world wants to put them into.

    Please support the men in your life. Talk to them, even if it’s looked down upon by an angry world. Inside every “hurt dog” is a DAWG waiting for somebody to care and affirm them.

    —

  • The Saints Are Rebuilding the Culture

    As someone who is both a Spencer Rattler and a Tyler Shough apologist – but mostly a Kellen Moore apologist – let’s talk about some things.

    • Anyone who has paid genuine attention to the Saints draft knows this is a sleeper class. I already discussed why Kelvin Banks was a smart pick, and I stand by that. Kelvin Banks looks like he could push the team plane out of the next freak snowstorm on his own.
    • Kellen Moore has taken the Saints krewe (we need to reclaim the “krewe” term from the Bucs, it’s almost worse than the Bungles stealing “Who Dat” for “Who Dey”) on a Tour de Fun. The last coach to take guys on a paintball excursion was Sean Payton in 2006. I think we know how that worked out.
    • EVERYONE LOOKS HAPPY IN OTAS. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Chris Olave, a man whose jersey tee I’m wearing as I write this, smile as big as he has in the past week. Nobody has looked this happy to be there since Breesus was in the house.

    Various sports outlets (read: betting-sponsored sites) have put the Saints at 5.5 wins on the odds. I firmly believe that I could have a decent payday on the over if betting were legal (or at least not supremely difficult) in Texas.

    [The following is copied and pasted from a social-media comment, so I apologize for any typos or odd formatting. But here are my thoughts.]

    “Floor is 8-9, ceiling is 12-5. We’ll have some missteps along the way, and may end up shifting QBs mid-season no matter who the starter is. What we have in our favor is that our draft will turn out to be highly underrated by many outlets – we were given anywhere from a B+ by those who did extensive, unbiased analysis to a D- by the notoriously clickbaity PFF. Since nobody is paying attention to us, and they haven’t since Brees retired, Kellen Moore and company are able to quietly rebuild the culture, especially on the offense.

    I’m watching Kellen make smart moves that will pay off in the long term. On the defensive side, nobody can deny that we have an aging class. But Justin Reid was a great pickup who works extremely well with Mathieu (they were a great duo on the Texans), and the mentorship of people like Cam is still really important to the team. Demario has yet to truly fall off despite all his years. It’s exciting to pay close attention and watch all the pieces come together.”

    We have a fresh staff, and we’ve gone from one of the oldest teams in the league to somewhere in the middle! We have the current youngest coach in the league (take that, Miami Mike). Anyone who says the Saints are “two years away from a rebuild” is ignoring Saints practices right now in 2025.

    We’re coming at it hard. The Texans did it in 2023. The Commanders did in 2024. Who counts out the Saints in 2025? Might be cooler if you didn’t. To quote Winston Zeddemore in “Ghostbusters II”:

    “It’s always the quiet ones.”

    —

  • Texans’ o line is buns, but Ersery might change the scene

    Look, I realize all of us Texans fans are terrified for our franchise quarterback. I’ve been a Buckeyes fan since I was born, but I’m trying not to be That Guy. I’m not gonna be That Guy in a Buckeyes tee who jumped up and down and hollered on the phone with my folks in Ohio, in tears of joy because My Guy CJ Stroud was coming to My Town in 2023.

    I have loved having CJ here. But we’ve done him wrong.

    Every analyst has talked about the “bad trade” we made giving Laremy Tunsil to the Commanders. Texans fans know better. Buckle up, Jayden Daniels – and man, I hate saying this, because I’m a fan of yours – you may have a so-called “Sophomore Slump” thanks to those drive-killing penalties. I wrote a Laremy Tunsil Valentine last year that seemed to resonate with a whole lot of Texans fans:

    Roses are red
    Violets are great
    False start, offense
    Number 78

    If I were at center, and looked up and constantly saw enormous bodies coming at me on EVERY SNAP – after getting saddled with multiple false starts at pivotal points – yeah, I’d get the yips too. Imagine Peak Tiger Woods, but every time he went to swing, someone started yelling nonsense in his ear (sorry, that’s a direct hit on Bobby Slowik) and five huge dudes started flinging bowling balls at his face and nards. That’s the world CJ lived in last year. CJ Stroud was pressured on 231 snaps in 2024, with an average pressure rate of 39% in the regular season (and a staggering 51.4% in the divisional). In the Super Bowl, Patrick Mahomes had a pressure rate of 38.1% on his dropbacks, and was out there looking like Anthony Richardson without the benefit of a nap.

    I’m not about to say I’m a fan of the linemen Caserio has signed in the offseason. He has been notoriously bad at o line, even with the Pats. I’ve been shaking internally looking at four Kenyon Green 2.0s and Ed Ingram, a guy who’s most famous for repeatedly stepping on Kirk Cousins’ foot.

    So, let’s at least give Aireontae Ersery a minute. I wanted us to pick him at 34, but better slightly later than never.

    Let’s start with the obvious: he is a large dude. The man is 6′ 6″ and 331 pounds – a little bigger than Tunsil, who was lauded for his size. Ersery’s film looks great, especially at left tackle, Tunsil’s former role. He’s the kind of guy you hope CJ will have protecting his blind side. He also won multiple honors in 2024, including B1G Offensive Lineman of the Year. Can’t be mad at that.

    Bringing in a younger, hungrier line can be a good strategy, especially with a keyed-up OC like Nick Caley, the Anti-Slowik.

    Beyond that, Ersery has shown the kind of humility that fits right into the Texans’ culture that DeMeco Ryans and Nick Caserio have painstakingly built since the 2022-23 offseason. DeMeco, in particular – with the locker-room dynamic he’s established – has managed to turn around “problematic” players like Joe Mixon, Stefon Diggs, and Azeez Al-Shaair. There’s no drama on Kirby … not on DeMeco’s watch. And Aireonte Ersery already comes in with zero drama, and the combination of confidence and humility the 2025 Texans’ locker room loves and fosters.

    Is Aireonte Ersery the singular answer to fixing the tissue paper that has been the Texans’ offensive line? Possibly not. But speaking as someone who’s also a Saints fan, and watched a dramatic 2-0 start in 2024 quickly turn into a seven-game losing streak after a single man – Erik McCoy – went down …

    … Don’t underestimate the power of just one lineman.

    —

  • Hot Take: 2024 Is Why the Saints Needed O Line

    Saints social media is back on their BS, as per usual, because we didn’t take a quarterback from a pretty mid class with the ninth pick. I could argue that a genuinely good offensive lineman – the likes of, say, Kelvin Banks Jr. – is what we needed before even considering a QB, and they started flying off the board pretty quickly. In fact, I’ll go ahead and argue that right now.

    Picture it: Week 3, 2024. The Saints have been on fire for the previous two weeks. Not just winning, but absolutely dominating. We’re in the middle of holding our own with the Eagles, who obviously were the best team in the league. Erik McCoy goes down. At a speed that can only be described as dizzying, our remaining o line becomes a house of cards. We continue to fight, but still lose 12-15. Well, this is a formidable opponent, so surely we’ll get back on track next week, right?

    Six more losses in a row follow. As the kids say, “the falloff needs to be studied.” There’s no studying needed, though. One guy on the offensive line turned out to be the keystone holding the entire Saints offense together, and it was clear as day. Cesar Ruiz was a close second in terms of performance (so of course we lost him too while he was carrying the bulk of the protection), and Taliese Fuaga was still learning the ropes. This was not a recipe for a great offense, and the results spoke for themselves.

    Will Kelvin Banks turn out to be an NFL-ready generational talent like the Saints had in the past with guys like Terron Armstead and Ryan Ramczyk? We can hope. With Ramczyk’s retirement closing the door to his return, and guys like Fuaga still continuing to develop and Trevor Penning remaining iffy at best, we need insurance. If you don’t think o line is important enough to draft at 9, I’ll cite Exhibit A: 2024 CJ Stroud.

    So, welcome to the trenches of the New Orleans Saints, Mr. Banks. And I hope your baby’s feeling better.

    —

  • Everything Is BS Until the Draft

    Everyone calm down.

    Let’s all agree that this is the worst quarterback class in years and that Shedeur Sanders is potentially the next Johnny Football. Talented, but 75% hype. (UNPOPULAR OPINION. But I’ve seen a lot in almost 50 years of living and watching football.)

    We’re deep into the offseason. We’re addicted to anxiety. Everyone has developed ADHD if they didn’t already have it. AAAAGGGHHHHH GO ENJOY A FREAKING LADYBUG ON A LEAF. Learn how to interact with humans.

    I get it. Your team’s o line is shit. You don’t have a WR3. If you’re an Eagles fan, your team has been treated like a parts car.

    Lemme tell you this: it’s gonna be okay.

    This is when you briefly become a Cougars or Rockets fan. It’s okay to like Houston for a minute, even though we will shit the bed like a lady in a nursing home at the most important minute. It’s okay.

    There was a book when I moved here 20 years ago called “Houston: It’s Worth It.” That became a SLOGAN. Then it was “It’s Okay to Like Houston.” Muthafucka WHAT?

    I just… I have a lot to say about it, but I like the place. I think the Coogs might embarrass Duke. The Rockets might keep getting good if they make some different choices. The Texans will finally make the AFC championship if Nick Caserio can learn what an o line is and we grab Egbuka. The Astros might need to fire their “hitter coach” and get some torpedo bats for Yordaddy Alvarez. Or we could just run up on Cam Smith. Kid has been here for two months and anyone in Hustletown (everyone who’s not a millionaire hates that term, btw) has his back.

    … in the meantime, go Coogs, I guess. Go kill it in the Final Four.

    I won’t even discuss the protests I want to hold outside Mickey Loomis’ house.

    Xo,

    Andy

    —

  • For the no one who asked, here are my thoughts on free agency

    Hey, y’all. I hope you’re enjoying crawfish season (my buddy with the secret outlet is back on his delightful BS, getting us some mini-lobsters), and enjoying offseason too. As I always promise on Instagram, no mock drafts from The Bayou Casuals. That is the worst way to try and make a deadline and farm what I call engRagement.

    Personally, I’m hating offseason. Look – the Texans have the best secondary in the league with the fabulous addition of CJ Gardner-Johnson. Saints fans older than the age of 6 will recall how much he destroyed Tom Brady’s mental health in one game. But we also had so many opportunities to prevent getting our Primary CJ killed milliseconds after the snap – we had Mekhi Becton money – and we instead signed a bunch of z-stringers with slightly better stats than Kenyon Green.

    At first glance, the Saints feel like they’re throwing eggs at the wall to see what will stick as Mickey Loomis pulls imaginary money out his butthole like a party clown with a string of handkerchiefs. Who Dat say dey gon beat dem Saints? Probably Wells Fargo at this point. We’re in a good position on paper, with an estimated $28.3 million in extra cap space (Saints fans will get a little chuckle out of that number) but will still end up $650 million over the cap next year with Carr at center until 2076.

    To be fair, the Saints did pull off some decent under-the-radar signings, and at least one big one: Justin Reid. Reuniting him with Tyrann Mathieu has the potential for some fun you probably never saw if you missed them working together on the Texans. (Dear reader: this is why it’s rewarding to love two teams. When someone goes from one to the other, you don’t lose.)

    Anyway, Saints got Reid and one of the best blocking tight ends in the league, Jack Stoll. Kellen Moore is putting pieces in place before we go into the draft with nine(!) picks that could be used for a 2017-style parade of talent. But we might not do that, because the guy I’m convinced is a Quentin Tarantino performance-art character is still managing the organization.

    So, here we are, two non-rival teams from cities that are basically a bonded pair of orange kittens on the coast of the Gulf of the Americas. We are somehow both incapable of assembling an o line or figuring out who the hell our actual WR3 is. Our QBs are both gonna get killed this season, but one is very good and deserves a brick wall around the pocket, and the other probably deserves to be traded to the Titans for the first pick after sucking beyond the Week 2 nut grab and bailing on his city for Super Bowl weekend (not a good look DEREK).

    I do not like mock drafts, because they are an obvious way to fabricate engRagement and fill time with crap and wild speculation until the draft. So, here’s my broad non-mock-draft plan for these teams:

    • Texans, go trade up if you can and get you some Emeka Egbuka and literally anyone from the Ohio State or Texas o line. Those o lines are the only reason Will Howard and Quinn Ewers are in conversations. Stop telling yourself a 36-year-old with a 34.2 pass blocking grade and who’s on his third patella is going to keep CJ safe. Wait a minute… I just thought of this: is this blatant inattention to his first line of protection a demented way to try and turn him into a mobile quarterback? Because that didn’t work last season, guys. All you did was give a generational talent the yips.
    • Saints, PLEASE do not try to draft another QB. Like I said about Cal McNair and his hypothetical new stadium, you don’t get a new one, because you already don’t play with the ones you have. And you’re still grounded for so many reasons. There are thousands of fans on social media actively looking for knockoff Saints gear so as not to give Gayle more money to help pedos. Anyway, shore up o line and draft someone like Jack Sawyer or the kid from That Team Up North to give Cam someone to train. We will not have Cam on the field forever.

    I’ve noticed media outlets that “grade” teams on free agency moves have no idea what grade to give either the Saints or the Texans. First they were both in the B-/C+ range, and now they’re handing both teams Fs, possibly because they have no idea what these teams’ needs are and that many have been quietly filled with non-splashy names while others will (hopefully) be addressed in the draft.

    That being said?

    Saints: B. Not many “superstars” for newbies to yap about beyond Justin Reid and Brandin Cooks, but signings like Stoll and Dillon Radunz (still a solid run blocker and improved at pass blocking last season) were admirable moves. Mickey did WAY overpay Juwan Johnson and possibly Chase Young, but we already know he’s got a lead foot when he’s driving the money train. This would put the Saints at a C, but we once again get extra credit for ridiculous cap voodoo.

    Texans: C+. We’re all very excited about this demonic defense. Derek Stingley and CJ Gardner-Johnson on the same team? So many Surface tablets will be thrown on the visitors’ sideline this year. Christian Kirk feels like he’s going to shine in our scheme – Stroud brings out the best in the WRs people think are “mid” or “washed.” He sent Nico into the stratosphere in ’23 and polished up Diggs so much both on and off the field that the Pats couldn’t wait to hand him that bag. But, Nick… why are you so historically bad at o line? I almost had a stroke when I saw that we were paying Tytus Howard almost as much as our top-5 WR1. And why have we almost exclusively signed project pieces with bad stats, injuries, or advanced age against them? We still need a third receiver. That receiver would ideally be Egbuka. But we’re not gonna get him if we’re spending pick 25 on o line because you sat there and signed a dude Vikings fans openly thanked us for taking off their hands. Take your C+ and go work on moving those picks around.

    Up next:

    • Give Alvin Kamara his flowers
    • Cam Smith makes the ’25 Astros less depressing
    • The Pelicans and Rockets both get what they’re looking for
    • I did not expect these Houston Cougars

    Talk soon,

    Andy

    —

  • FYI – Not being lazy here

    The reason it’s taking me so long to get this blog off the ground is not for lack of loving the game. Far from it. I love writing. I love football more than I love anything in the world.

    It’s due to the fact that I absolutely hate this free WordPress theme, and even after you upgrade, you still have to do extensive coding to make it look the way you want it to look while juggling life bulls**t 24-7.

    That being said, more incoming.

    —