The Super Bowl has past. I've taken six Tylenol for my head, the beer bottles are overflowing the recycle bin, and the bean dip is slowly converting to methane. It's time to put the past behind me (don't stand behind me, ya know the dip) , and look to the horizon, free agency and the draft. Having spent " way to much time on the computer " ( my mother talking ), It seems everyone thinks the Saints will focus on defence, mom and I included. While we agree that the Saints need defencive help, after that we don't see eye to eye. Mom wants a manly linebacker to replace our " wuss of a weak-side linebacker " (again mom talking not me) , she says " he put the weak in weak-side " . I say she needs to adjust her meds . She is also down on our " overpaid , overweight " defencive ends. I can't tell you the number of times she has told me " Will Smith made two million dollars per sack " ( her math is questionable, but you get her point ) I tell her that he played with a pulled groin for most of the season , she replies " you have to have a groin before you can pull it ". What can I say , she's old school. Don't get her started on our secondary ( unless you want to learn how to curse in French ). She refuses to say Jason David's name. Instead she refers to him by his number only, a punishment she reserved for the all time worst Saints . On game day it's " That (French expletive) 42 can't play ( French expletive) man coverage, he's a ( French expletive ) cover two ( French expletive ). I tell her that he's played much better this year, and leads the team in picks. To which she replies, "that shows you how bad those other (French expletives) are". Mom's a glass half ( French expletive ) empty kinda person. I'm hoping Gregg Williams can turn things around , if not I'm gonna have to get my own place.