I’m a New Orleans Saints fan, so don’t tell me I should be over the grand theft of our Super Bowl chance that happened last Sunday at the Mercedes-Benz Superdome. I will have none of it.
I am hacked off, and there are thousands of Saints fans just like me who were left stupefied by the injustice set upon our team by the two worst referees — they get my vote — in the history of professional and amateur sports. These useless guys claim they didn’t see two obvious penalties on the same play: pass interference and a helmet-to-helmet shot right in front of them.
If they swore to that with their hands on a Bible, there would be one hand missing.
Some people have claimed the two got a little pocket money for the non-calls. I’m not going that far. Others say the money-grubbing NFL preferred to have the large-market Los Angeles Rams team in the big game. All I know is that I would not like to be in a car driven by either of the two refs.
And, how could this happen after the tragic last-second, self-inflicted loss last year? This is too much.
Some snarky Cowboy emailed this quote to me. Legendary basketball coach Morgan Wootten of DeMatha High School in Maryland said: “You learn more from losing than winning. You learn how to keep going.”
I’m a Saints fan. I have learned enough.
After boiling and stewing emotionally for several days, I think I have found a way to deal with my pain. While this is not a laughing matter, maybe I can get some folks to join me in at least smiling for a couple of minutes. We can’t wallow in this agony forever.
Imagine how history would have changed if either one of them had been John Wilkes Booth. “Nope. We didn’t see that Lincoln guy at the Ford Theatre.”
And, there is this: “Moses you say? No, really for the life of us, we never saw the Moses guy with the stone tablets coming down from the mountain.”
Imagine if they were the pilots delivering the atomic bombs. “Say again, Home Base Alpha. Wait? What? That wasn’t Hiroshima? And it wasn’t Nagasaki, either? It was Japan, right? No?”
And, this. “No general, we went to his hideout. We ran upon a lot of people, but we never saw Osama bin Laden.”
“Look Sarge, we never saw the Ford Bronco that folks claim O.J. was in and that they saw on the highway. We were right on the path where everyone said they saw it. It just wasn’t there, sir.”
And, Lord knows there are some jobs, other than referees, these guys need to stay miles away from.
Schools crossing guard is out.
Air traffic controllers. It would be a national crisis.
They couldn’t be photographers at a wedding. “Uh, we never saw those two people kissing. We saw them looking at each other, but that kissing thing, that just didn’t happen.”
You definitely don’t want them as Uber or Lyft drivers. “No Mam, that turn street was never on our screen. Wait, there’s a screen? If you think we are wrong, you can drive yourself.”
If those two guys were butchers at your favorite market, their nicknames would be “Lefty,” “Two-Fingers Frankie” or “Knuckles Lemoine.”
I can see it now. If they were surgeons, they would have to fess up to a patient: “We never saw your liver when we were trying to get to your bad lung. Bad thing, you still have the bad lung. But on the bright side, we have you high up on the liver transplant list.”
That pair as paramedics: “Hey, we didn’t see those two people on the ground. We hope they recover from our rolling over them.”
We should rename that place in Georgia in their honor, from Lookout Mountain, to “Look, where?”
I hope that somehow I can calm myself down enough to watch the Super Bowl next week. I hope so. As for those two miserable refs, I hope they never find their way onto another football field as officials at any level.
Paul Brown, the late, great NFL football coach and team owner, said, “When you win, say nothing, when you lose, say less.” He would have revoked that quote last week.
Email Edward Pratt, a former newspaperman who writes a weekly Advocate column, at email@example.com.