We Can All Stop Acting Like Drew Brees Gives a Half of a Damn About a Conveniently Timed Bye Week10/23/2019 Let me be the first to say that I'd gladly spend another week watching Teddy Bridgewater up his offseason ante, especially against an inferior defense who is entering the hostile confines of the SuperDome, if it meant that Drew Brees was even .01% healthier down the stretch for a Super Bowl run. For that reason, I think the Saints probably should take advantage of the leeway they have afforded themselves by somehow breezing through with a blemish-free record while Brees-less and have him spend the next two weeks sitting on his reengineered thumb - metaphorically speaking, of course - as opposed to pushing its limits. Unfortunately, what I know is that what I think couldn't possibly matter any less. There is exactly one thing that everyone who shares my opinion has in common, and that is a fundamental inability to relate to the near-psychotic level of competitiveness that has enabled a man well into his 40's to maintain an elite level of performance at the most difficult position in all of professional sports. In theory, yes, the upcoming bye week does come at the perfect time in offering the perfect opportunity for an aging athlete to slowly but surely ease his way back into swing of things. In execution, no, there isn't anyone who is about to test that theory by telling the football-obsessed freak below to choose playing it safe over playing quarterback this Sunday...
I say the following as lovingly as humanly possible, Drew Brees is a lunatic. He lives and breathes football, and more than likely has spent every waking second since his injury doing even the most trivial of exercises in hopes of cutting his recovery time by even a single minute. Telling him he shouldn't participate after the medical staff (presumably) clears him to is the equivalent of telling him he has to wait two more weeks, after what's essentially been a month plus of forced fasting, to cut into a juicy filet mignon as the aroma wafts directly into his nostrils. I haven't the slightest doubt that he's extremely happy for Teddy Bridgewater, but Jesus Christ himself could have been the one chosen to take the wheel from him for the last five weeks and every single missed snap would still eat at his God-fearing soul. Point being, if both he and a licensed physician, that understands the risks better than fans ever could, agree that he's absolutely good to go then go he absolutely will, and the only "bye" that will be a part of that decision is the one he dismissively waves to anyone that tries to talk him out of it. Sean Payton is perhaps the only other person capable of telling him "no", and he's one of the very few that possesses enough of that same killer instinct to understand full well how futile it would be to even try.
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