After pounding the Panthers into submission, the Saints could sense it, too. A month earlier, Jim Haslett had called his team together and told the players they had two choices: Get on board or follow him back up to his office and get released or traded. Now, the weary coach, the dark bags under his eyes the only thing adding any color to his pale face, was standing at a podium deep inside Bank of America Stadium and calling his squad the hottest team in the NFC.



(If the Saints are dumb enough to get rid of Haslett, then they didn't deserve him in the first place. Is he an elite coach? No. Is he a good coach who is perfect for this team? Absolutely. Who else is gonna coach this freaky franchise? Tom Coughlin? Please.)