Drew Brees Proves Doubters Wrong

When they signed you on that day in March 2006, Payton and Loomis were confident they got their man.

The local newspaper said, "Only time will tell the impact the 27-year-old will have on the franchise's future. But this is arguably the biggest splash the Saints ever made in free agency. And it sets the tone for the most important season in team history."

You told the organization and the media and the fans that even though the Miami Dolphins and ole' St. Nick were bothered by the condition of your throwing shoulder, the Saints had nothing to fear.

One of those anonymous talking-head pricks told the Sun-Sentinel that your shoulder was "much worse" than the Dolphins thought after the Miami medical staff examined you.

"I think if you see the surgery and how well it went and you see my progress, and I think you just have to know me and the kind of person I am and believe in me, I'm going to be fine," you told reporters that day.

Who cares what Saban thinks anyway? ha ha ha ha. He'll be playing for BCS titles soon enough while the rest of us are playing in The Super Bowl. HeHe HeHe HeHe.

Even wound up with Culpepper. Good for the prick!

Your numbers in San Diego were exemplary in the two years prior to coming to New Orleans: fifth in the NFL in passer rating, fourth in completion percentage, ninth in passing yards, sixth-best in interception percentage, and fourth in touchdowns.

The Saints entered the sweepstakes for your services as underdogs but they showed you the love by outbidding the rest of your suitors—a six-year, $60 million deal. Some guaranteed cash thrown in there as well.

But just for a moment Sean thought that wrong turn he made on I-10 had cost him any chance of signing you.

Those damned forks in the road.

Sean was new to the city and, well, he took a wrong turn on that dadgum I-10 after picking you and Brittany up at the airport. Brittany fell asleep in the car, and you arrived at Saints offices an hour late.

You laughed about it later when Sean revealed to you he was sweating bullets that day thinking his driving skills had cost him a potential Super Bowl.

But you knew you were meant to be here, and you sure as hell weren't going to let some damned wrong turn on the highway interfere with destiny.

You said what it came down to who was who you felt believed in you the most. You said you got a great feeling from the Saints' organization and from Sean (that Saban bastard isn't exactly Mr. Warm-n-Fuzzy). You said you felt that you really felt like you had the opportunity to do something great here, both for the organization and the city.

You said the Saints made it clear from the beginning that you were the guy they wanted to build this thing with, and you said that was very exciting to you.

In the next four years, you proved a quarterback doesn't need "prototypical" size to be a good game manager and decision-maker. He doesn't need extraordinary physical skills to be able to get the ball to the right guy at the right time.

And this week, nerdy sports announcers like Dari Noka (bet he got picked on at school) are saying you have no chance. They talk about what the Saints' defense has to do to stop Peyton.

Excuse me, but how about what does the f**king Colts defense have to do to stop you?

They engage in hero-worship with Warner and that shithead Favre.

You tell the reporters you won't play their bullshit game. You're in Miami. This is a business trip, and after Sunday you know that yours truly, Drew Brees, will take his place among the game's all-time great quarterbacks.

Sometimes those damned forks in the road work out for the best, you know.