Intent to injure a sign of weakness, not strength

The 2009 NFC championship game between the Minnesota Vikings and the New Orleans Saints has until recently been best remembered as the night that Brett Favre once more broke the heart of fans by throwing a critical interception with victory and a Super Bowl berth seemingly in hand. People seemed to forget that Favre spent a good portion of the game being hit by what appeared to be heat-seeking missiles in human form—repeatedly bouncing off the turf when not being used as an earth-moving landscaping device. It was true that the Vikings offensive line was built for the run and not pass blocking, but it wasn’t bad enough for Saints’ pass rushers, who always seemed to have need to “finish” what they sought out to do even after the play was well over at the back end. The Saints were flagged for two late hits, but they could have easily been tagged for a half-dozen more.

A particularly egregious non-call was the high-low hit by Bobby McCray and Remi Ayodele, in which it appeared the intent was to leave Favre squirming on the ground in two separate pieces. McCray aimed for Favre’s ankles, and succeeded in sending the crippled quarterback temporarily to the sidelines. It was a clear attempt not merely to hurt but to severely injure, and why the officials chose to overlook it was just another indication of the extent to which the Saints were receiving the “home cooking” recipe, and they seemed confident that they could get away with questionable conduct at will; after the game, McCray was fined $20,000 by the league, but this paled in comparison to the $83,000 he was paid for being on a Super Bowl-winning team. But even after The Interception, the game was not technically over, but the officials apparently wanted to go home sooner than later, judging by the blown calls in overtime that repeatedly gave New Orleans new life.

After the game, Favre’s ankle and thigh were not sights for virgin eyes; it was obvious that he had been running on adrenaline after his ankle injury. But a new investigation by the NFL reveals that Favre was the victim of a “bounty” paid to any Saints player who inflicted serious enough injury to knock him out of the game. Kurt Warner may have been another victim of this slush fund set-up by Saints’ defensive coordinator Gregg Williams and paid into by players to the tune of $50,000. Out of this fund went payments of $1,000 or more to players who with malice caused “cart-offs”—knocking an opposing player out of a game. It is alleged by the NFL that Saints linebacker Jonathan Vilma offered $10,000 of his own money as an inducement to knocking Favre out of the championship. Since Roger Goodell is putting a premium on player safety, the Saints’ bounty system strayed far beyond acceptable conduct. Sean Payton was aware of the bounty, as was the owner of the Saints who warned Payton to stop the “program.” Instead, it continued into 2011, with Vikings running back Adrian Peterson accusing Saints’ players of deliberately targeting his injured ankle.

Favre, for some reason, has not expressed any concern over the scheme, although Warner was “disappointed” by the results of the investigation. Heavy fines and other punishment is certain to follow. But no punishment can erase the memory of how Minnesota on paper delivered a thorough beating on the Saints, but were undone in part by five turnovers, and how in retrospect it was the undeserving team that was granted the “right” to play Indianapolis in the Super Bowl. The Saints defense did in the end accomplish their “mission,” battering Favre just enough to make him put aside ideas about running for yardage on the Vikings final offensive play before a potential game-winning field goal attempt, and throw a clearly ill-advised pass across his body that did not have enough “lift.” But the game should now be remembered as how the Saints, unable to win the game fairly, resorted to the lowest of the low tactics. As one may recall from the film “North Dallas Forty,” when offensive lineman Jo Bob was repeatedly burned by the defensive lineman Weeks, he teamed-up with O.W. to take a shot at Weeks’ knees, leaving him crippled on the ground. Some may say that this is part of the game; but would there be a game at all if every players’ “mission” was to seriously injure his opponent? That’s not “competition”—it’s acknowledging your own weakness.