As much as we all wish it were, the Saints traveling to Minnesota to face a Vikings' team that is one year removed from starting their season in miserable fashion and ending it in...for lack of a better term...miraculous fashion is not just another game. It might count for as much in the standings, but so do rivalry games against Atlanta, and no coach, player, or fan could tell you with a straight face that there's not a little more piss and vinegar in the air when it's shared with the Falcons. While I do appreciate the "our only opponent is ourselves" approach, credit to Sheldon Rankins for putting it rather perfectly. A win on the very same field they stumbled off of in shock a little more than nine months ago would feel just a little bit bigger and a little bit better, if only because - right or wrong - it would make an early end to a promising postseason feel a little less bitter. Not a lot less bitter, as the they won't even be facing the same quarterback that destroyed their hopes and dreams on a wing and prayer, but a little less bitter. There's no shame in admitting as much about a game set to be played in front of fans who have had way too much fun at their expense, given the destiny-defying ass whooping they endured a week later. Maybe I've been desensitized by years spent watching bad defenses blow sure victories in epically incompetent fashion, but I'm not even the type of person that can't stand the sight of Stefon Diggs taking a solo stroll into the end zone as the clock struck zero. It was just a few short days after taking the gut punch seen round the sports' world that I was able to take a deep breath and focus on the positives of a season that somehow went from a fiasco to a sign of a bright future. That being said, even I want Marcus Williams to redemptively return a game-sealing pick-six before tossing aside his helmet with a vengeance while Sean Payton does the SKOL gesture until his shoulder goes sore this upcoming Sunday. Nothing can ever cure the sickness caused by the 'Minneapolis Miracle', but for any New Orleans Saint that was on that field last January to say that giving the Vikings a taste of their own medicine wouldn't ever-so-slightly ease that pain is as much of a lie as any game being over before it's actually over. After all, revenge - even in regular season form - is the sweetest joy next to getting...well...you can pick up what I'm putting down. In summation, the CliffNotes version: "We know what the standard is," says Kamara before pausing for a few seconds. "So, yeah, fuck Minnesota".
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