Disclaimer: For those that look forward to my high-minded think-pieces, my sincere apologies. The following is not that. Instead, it is the nonsensical ramblings of superfan completely in love with his hometown and the NFL’s representative thereof. I promise to return soon with more critical analysis of the intersectionality between football and American culture. But for this week, please allow me one profanity laced rant. Thank you!
Cruising up I-75, drawing ever closer, I instinctually slow down. My hesitance is caused not only by a reluctance to interact with racist state troopers, but I am also feebly attempting to delay the inevitable. I see the sign for exit 248B and my stomach unsettles. I have to pull over. I’m going to throw up. Man, I fucking hate Atlanta.
Growing up in New Orleans, a hatred for Atlanta came as natural as our love for music and our unmistakable speech cadence. It’s in our blood, it’s one of the ways we distinguish the true natives (and adopted family) from the fakers, and it extends so far beyond football.
Everybody has a story about when the rivalry expanded from playful sports competitiveness to utter contempt for the city as a whole. For me, it gelled in 1990, when Atlanta won their bid for the 1996 Olympics. Being loyal Americans, we begrudgingly supported this bid, and gritted our teeth at every televised declaration that Atlanta was the “Jewel of the South” and the epitome of Southern culture. Of course, we knew this to be bullshit, but we held our tongues. After six painful years of having to play second string to these classless culture-vultures, the Olympics and the Atlanta love-fest mercifully ended … or so we thought.
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Altantans, being the despicable human beings that they are, attempted to clutch to this title like a jealous lover well into the early 2000s. The consequence of their arrogance going unchecked was the unleashing of some of the worst atrocities the world has ever seen!
Exhibit A – Lil Jon
Exhibit B – Ying Yang Twins (they can’t even fucking spell “Yin Yang”)
Exhibit C – Real Housewives of Atlanta
Exhibit D – Roddy White (I’ll stop here, not because I’m out of examples, but because I’m out patience discussing these jackasses)
Everything they have, they stole from us and fucked it up. Crunk is bastardized Bounce. Atlanta style soul food is bastardized Creole. They refused to even get their own damn sponsor for their stadium.
And if they didn’t steal it from us, they still found a way to fuck it up. They created an envied model for a public-school system, then started cheating on standardized tests. Alvin Kamara is the best player to ever come from the city, none of the local colleges grabbed him (not even after being forced out of Alabama) and the Falcons passed on him in the draft.
They are hateful, spiteful, miserable people who have somehow managed to parlay an airport hub and a Coca-Cola factory into a semblance of a culture. And nothing would make my Thanksgiving Day more than the Saints beating the crap out of the Fail-clowns.
Disclaimer: For those that look forward to my high-minded think-pieces, my sincere apologies. The following is not that. Instead, it is the nonsensical ramblings of superfan completely in love with his hometown and the NFL’s representative thereof. I promise to return soon with more critical analysis of the intersectionality between football and American culture. But for this week, please allow me one profanity laced rant. Thank you!
Cruising up I-75, drawing ever closer, I instinctually slow down. My hesitance is caused not only by a reluctance to interact with racist state troopers, but I am also feebly attempting to delay the inevitable. I see the sign for exit 248B and my stomach unsettles. I have to pull over. I’m going to throw up. Man, I fucking hate Atlanta.
Growing up in New Orleans, a hatred for Atlanta came as natural as our love for music and our unmistakable speech cadence. It’s in our blood, it’s one of the ways we distinguish the true natives (and adopted family) from the fakers, and it extends so far beyond football.
Everybody has a story about when the rivalry expanded from playful sports competitiveness to utter contempt for the city as a whole. For me, it gelled in 1990, when Atlanta won their bid for the 1996 Olympics. Being loyal Americans, we begrudgingly supported this bid, and gritted our teeth at every televised declaration that Atlanta was the “Jewel of the South” and the epitome of Southern culture. Of course, we knew this to be bullshit, but we held our tongues. After six painful years of having to play second string to these classless culture-vultures, the Olympics and the Atlanta love-fest mercifully ended … or so we thought.
Altantans, being the despicable human beings that they are, attempted to clutch to this title like a jealous lover well into the early 2000s. The consequence of their arrogance going unchecked was the unleashing of some of the worst atrocities the world has ever seen!
Exhibit A – Lil Jon
Exhibit B – Ying Yang Twins (they can’t even fucking spell “Yin Yang”)
Exhibit C – Real Housewives of Atlanta
Exhibit D – Roddy White (I’ll stop here, not because I’m out of examples, but because I’m out patience discussing these jackasses)
Everything they have, they stole from us and fucked it up. Crunk is bastardized Bounce. Atlanta style soul food is bastardized Creole. They refused to even get their own damn sponsor for their stadium.
And if they didn’t steal it from us, they still found a way to fuck it up. They created an envied model for a public-school system, then started cheating on standardized tests. Alvin Kamara is the best player to ever come from the city, none of the local colleges grabbed him (not even after being forced out of Alabama) and the Falcons passed on him in the draft.
They are hateful, spiteful, miserable people who have somehow managed to parlay an airport hub and a Coca-Cola factory into a semblance of a culture. And nothing would make my Thanksgiving Day more than the Saints beating the crap out of the Fail-clowns.
Who Dat!
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