— Michael Thomas (@Cantguardmike) January 14, 2019 I can comfortably say that the Saints' foremost priority this past Sunday was to vindicate a promising postseason that Stefon Diggs turned to shit faster than his last poorly researched Mexican meal. Getting a win is what mattered most, as it brought them one step closer to the Super Bowl they rightfully or wrongfully felt robbed of last season. That being said, it's pretty obvious that rubbing the Philadelphia Eagles' faces in said shit while jacking back their ski masks and their swagger wasn't far enough behind on the to-do list to be considered pushed entirely to the back of their mind. As they've done all year, the Saints spoiled themselves in victory by dancing all over their victims, and no team deserved to be made more dirty in defeat than the Birds. Shamelessly stealing New Orleans' celebrations has basically become a league-wide epidemic, and reigning Super Bowl Champs were pretty damn close to being Patient Zero. I'm not sure why they felt the need to do so, as a team whose championship culture had it's own soundtrack, but I'll be damned if it wasn't perfectly fitting of the Saints to play it for them at their funeral. There's a right way and a wrong way to troll your opponent. Between mocking their regional musical preference following a playoff victory and trying to claim their traditions as your own after they hand you a regular season shellacking, it's not too tough to tell which is which. The only thing the Saints have known as well as winning this season is the Sean Payton-esque arrogance it's provided them in doing so with (Choppa) style. I presume that might be part of the reason why Marcus Peters thought better of instigating a team (and specifically, one prickly player) that both feeds off frivolousness and made him look 200+ receiving yards worth of stupid in their last meeting...
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