Atlanta Falcons Fans Don't Want Your Respect; We Just Want to Win

I'm not certain when my dad realized this Atlanta Falcons team was special, but I believe it was three days prior to the 44-21 spanking of the Green Bay Packers. We were on the phone having our daily just-off-work chat when, out of the blue, he said, "Marc, the Falcons are going to win 33-17."

A bold prediction, yes, but my pop has always been the type of guy to give specific scores rather than just say who'll win or lose.

A little background on the man who implanted the "I love Georgia" gene in my body. My dad is from a south Atlanta neighborhood called Hapeville. It sits about three traffic lights from Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. Nothing fancy about the place. It's a community of hardworking folks who love their families, their God and their sports.

If you want to call my dad a "homer," go right ahead. He'll probably think you were paying him a compliment. While my pop bleeds whatever color red is on the Atlanta team's jersey that day, know this—as quickly as he'll say Dale Murphy is underrated, he'll call out Matt Ryan for overthrowing an open receiver.

His honesty must have rubbed off, as I tend to be blunt in my opinions, too, especially when it comes to my home teams. See enough postseason collapses from the Braves and ho-hum, 8-5 seasons from the Georgia football team and you learn to temper your expectations.

Unlike a lot of folks, I had a quiet optimism about this year's Falcons squad. Really. I noticed a fire in Ryan's eyes. I saw an extra gear in Julio Jones' stride. I witnessed a defensive front that actually understood how to pressure opposing quarterbacks.

In Week 2, I put my confidence to the test and took a trip out to the Bay Area with my wife to watch a mid-September contest between the Birds and the upstart Oakland Raiders. Pop and I chatted before the trip, of course. He questioned my sanity for stepping into the hostile Black Hole wearing a Deion Sanders jersey. "Pop, I'm good," I assured him. His response: "But, Son, they're good."

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After that Week 2 road victory, I started to believe. You, much like most of the country, probably still weren't convinced. The disappointing overtime loss to the I-405 Chargers in Week 7 didn't help. And Eric Berry's game-winning pick-two in the Kansas City Chiefs' shocking Week 13 win will live in Atlanta infamy alongside John Rocker's people skills and Eugene Robinson's choice in, umm, ladies.

Look beyond that Kansas City misstep, though, and you'll see a team that hasn't lost since.

Still, all anyone on a national stage cares to talk about is how inadequate my city is or how inferior its teams are. The president of the United States called out our local leadership and said our neighborhoods are falling apart. The president of the Dan Shaughnessy fan club called out our whole city and said our fans are apathetic and deserve his pity. We need Boston's pity about as much as we need another Waffle House on Piedmont Road.

I contemplated telling my dad about Shaughnessy's messy article the other day, but I didn't. No real point. He had enough fuel to rev his 68-year-old engine: "Marc, why are they spending so much time on this TV talking about the Patriots instead of the Falcons?"

I can't fully answer that one. Yeah, New England's dashing quarterback is married to a supermodel. And sure, the franchise has nine Super Bowl appearances compared to Atlanta's two. We get it. But y'all do remember what all those shiny rings did for Alabama a few weeks ago against Clemson, right?

The underdog role is nothing new for us. When longtime ATL resident Evander Holyfield fought Mike Tyson, the experts said he would lose. He didn't. When the Atlanta Hawks were ballin' out of their minds during a 60-win campaign back in 2014-15, nobody expected them to sustain their hot play all the way to the Eastern Conference Finals. But they did.

So, when we see ESPN segments over the past week lean disproportionately in the opposition's favor, we can only shrug. When we grab this week's Sports Illustrated from the mailbox and see the Pats' logo splattered prominently on the cover while the Falcons' is damn near hidden, all we can do is offer a collective "meh."

Gregory Shamus/Getty Images

The subtle shade drops annually like pollen around here.

Fortunately, Atlanta head coach Dan Quinn and his staff aren't concerned with magazines. They have real issues to deal with, like scoring 30-plus points for the 11th time in their last 13 games, or stopping yet another "playoff-tested" team like the Packers or Seattle Seahawks from scoring more than 21 points.

I'm going to follow suit. Henceforth, my focus is elsewhere.

Pop and I spoke yesterday. I asked him to tell me how Super Bowl LI would play out.

"Final score: Falcons 28, Patriots 14," he said with pride.

Maybe you'll finally get on board after that score materializes. Maybe you won't. Doesn't matter. When the Atlanta Falcons hoist the Lombardi Trophy on the 50-yard line in Houston's NRG Stadium next Sunday, it won't be for you.

Nah, this one will be for Gerald Riggs, Jessie Tuggle and all the lil' kids from Hapeville.