Catlin is an over the hill QB coming off a recent championship and the slow moving plot revolves around his decision to keep playing or retire, which descends it into a yarn about  star athlete ego in excess. There is a crumbling marriage, an affair and the upcoming season, and throughout the course of the movie, the viewer waits for redemptive qualities in Catlin but ultimately is provided with very little. His wife and fleeting mistress, played by Jessica Walter and Diana Muldaur, are spunky and sexy, are the better halves of the couplings and the plot should have included much more of them.

A young Bruce Dern stole the show, playing Heston's former wide receiver who has moved on with his life with no regrets and is better adjusted for it, having walked away from the game before it walks away from him. He is definitive Sixties hip. Locker room appearances from various old former Saints like big Doug Atkins and Dave Whitsell are endearing, as is a club scene with the venerable Al Hirt, as himself.  N'Awlins, baby.           

Despite the screenplay's flaws, there are many alluring scenes for Saints - and New Orleans - fans. Game and crowd footage from grand old Tulane Stadium is excellent, providing a pleasant trip down memory lane for older ones and a glimpse of what it was like for younger ones who have only experienced the Saints in the comparatively sterile Superdome.

A good scene takes place in Audubon Park, when the rookie back-up who wants Heston's job, played by Kelly Williams, effectively tells him, "Look man, you were one of the greats, like Tittle.....Unitas, but it's over. Sorry man - the king is dead". The casting director was somewhat prescient in making that role for a black quarterback, which  hardly existed in 1969; it may have been to stir a little "controversy" and sell more tickets.

There are some cool scenes of Heston tooling around in a big, steely American car in the Quarter at night, and on lower St. Charles. There are also scenes in the original Saints ticket headquarters on Lee Circle with then Saints GM Vic Schwenk playing himself, as well as practice clips in the team's first facility out on David Drive and Airline Highway that bristle with the scent of training camp and a season anew, making the movie timely viewing for this summer.           

Four decades later, the original Saints uniforms with gold pants and white or black jerseys, with jazzy striping and numbering, are still far superior to those homogenized versions of today. Uniforms change subtly over time but when Jim Mora became head coach in the 1980's, he had them patterned after those of the Steelers to shake a "loser's image". That malarkey has sufficiently expired and a grass roots movement to bring them back should begin.

The music is mostly good, period background stuff, handled by Beverly Hills composer Dominic Frontiere, which has a twist onto itself. Mr. Frontiere eventually headed Paramount's music division in the 1970's, but made headlines for both being the ex-husband of Rams owner Georgia Frontiere (she had several) and serving prison time for a Super Bowl ticket scalping scandal in 1980, which reportedly netted him with about a half million IRS un-reported dollars from tickets provided by his ex.  

Georgia Frontiere (who died 18 months ago from breast cancer) was a former sometime night club singer and chorus line performer, a buxom, blonde, fast-laner. She was thrust into the pro football world in April 1979 when her then husband, Carroll Rosenbloom, the owner of the Los Angeles Rams, drowned in the ocean while swimming near his Florida home. At the time, some thought the drowning was suspicious since Rosenbloom was known to be an adroit swimmer and the surf that day was not up.

Rosenbloom had groomed his son from a previous marriage, Steve, as his successor, but he left 70 percent of the Rams' ownership to his wife, evidently to minimize estate taxes. She quickly asserted control as the first and only female owner in pro football, firing her stepson and replacing him as the team's general manager, and subsequently moved the Rams from Los Angeles to St. Louis in a lucrative new stadium deal (come to think of it, this is all good screenplay material itself........).

It's always been difficult to make a high quality film about pro football. Many of them have not been been made with league consent for trademark use of teams and logos (Number One is an exception - the game footage uses actual teams and players, though Heston looks every bit the 46 that he was when the film as made, breaking a rib in the process), which stretches the believability factor. Also, how many twists can there be on the somewhat tired sports cliché of overcoming adversity to win? And how much of that adversity is real - or Hollywood contrived?

Brian's Song (1971) was a sentimental fact based favorite about Brian Piccolo and Gale Sayers' race blind, cancer terminal friendship while they were with the Bears. I still need to see The Longest Yard (1974) with Burt Reynolds as a former pro in prison in its entirety. Former Cowboy Peter Gent's novel, North Dallas Forty (1979) was an acclaimed movie with Animal House theatrics, starring Nick Nolte and country singer Mac Davis. Incidentally, actor G.D. Spradlin played head coach in both that film (as Tom Landry) and Number One (as then Saints head coach Tom Fears).

Tom Cruise as player agent Jerry Maguire (1996) told lots more about the real business of pro ball than did Oliver Stone's so called expose, Any Given Sunday (1999). Besides trying to get used to seeing Al Pacino as a football coach, the movie was a  typical media  over-hyped, melodramatic bust (save a good player on painkillers performance by  Lawrence Taylor), leaving some fans scratching their heads why they were even fans of the damn game.

Perhaps the best of the lot is 2006's under-rated Invincible, starring Mark Wahlberg in a true story about former Eagle receiver Vince Papale's ascendance from bartender to pro football player after a walk-on tryout at the beginning of the Dick Vermeil era in Philadelphia in the 1970's. Greg Kinnear ably plays Coach Vermeil in all polyester, eager beaver detail. There are archives from NFL Films and the rest of the playing footage is plenty real, and good.         

Number One spawns no sharp reactions either way other than being the greatest bad movie ever made for Saints aficionados. It was made during a simpler, stiffer, yet in some ways arguably better, era. The original United Artists poster for the flick includes "When you are Number One, you have no where to go but down!"  In the end, how far Cat Catlin goes down is less categorical and more subject to viewer's interpretation and preference, mildly controversial in that regard. The answer has hardly kept movie viewers sleepless all this time yet Number One remains on the recommended list.    

Number One is not easy to find. A friend graciously found and sent me a copy.  It's doubtful your local video store will have the DVD. Cursory Netflix and Amazon searches did not yield it. In January a message board on media hub IMDB.com said Eddie Brandt's Video (818-506-4242) might have it for $16 or so, and am told that Steve Perry at sportsdiscs08@gmail.com might have it. Seems local TV stations like WWL and WDSU TV could be convinced to show it in place of tedious syndicate reruns, if emailed enough.       

First, I'd like to apologize for my absence. Over the last month-and-a-half, I've embarked on a new employment opportunity, and am in the process of re-balancing work, work, family and my Falcons blog.

But enough about me.

I wanted to share this link to an amusing article. Something about the greatness of man versus the greatness of ego.

It's June. Falcons OTAs are in full swing. The rookies are being signed and integrated in the offensive, defensive and special teams schemes. Falcons are helping charities, communities, and supporting our armed forces. Mike Vick is 600 miles away. Things are looking good. Heck...with Tony Gonzalez, Michael Turner and Roddy White, we even have three players in the Madden '10 top ten at their positions.

Still, Panthers, Saints and even Bucs fans seem to think they each have the best team in the division. Saints fans will - in the same breath, mind you - point out that the Falcons defense is unproven, so they can't beat the Saints this year, while the [ahem, unproven] new Saints defense will bolster the vicious attack by Drew Brees and company. Panthers fans tout their underachieving starting quarterback, their disgruntled DE and their one-dimensional passing game as their aces-in-the-hole in their quest to defend their division title. Buccaneers...well, they hope the Bucs can do what the Falcons did last year...

To give credit where credit is due, the Saints do still have a great passing offense, the Panthers a strong running duo, and the Bucs a better-than-average defense. But they can't all play us at once. The Falcons are attempting to build the best all-around team. The offense was already strong, and the addition of Tony Gonzalez completes their attack. The defense is young, and, I'll admit, unproven, but built around a solid core (Lofton, Abraham, Babineaux, Peterson, Coleman) and getting very deep at multiple positions. The competition for DE, DT, corner back, safety and linebacker is strong, and whomever emerges at the starting positions will have had to earn it. Mike Smith is a defensive mind, and that will only serve to make this team better. No one is resting on their laurels.

I've been reading a lot of reaction to many debates going on in the sports sites, and I'd like to address some of the misconceptions I've seen:

1. The Falcons have never had back-to-back winning seasons - Prior to 1998, they had never been to a Super Bowl. That didn't change the fact that they made it there. Unless you are willing to put your stock in superstitions about curses, there's no reason to believe that this kind of random statistic has any bearing about what can happen in the future.

2. The Falcons will have to beat the NFC East and AFC East, two of the toughest divisions in the NFL - Though I can't argue that, based on the statistics these teams have, these might be the toughest divisions in the NFL (though I'd argue the NFC South is right there with them), I would like to remind everyone that the Saints, Panthers and Bucs all have to play the same two divisions. The Saints will have to face the same pass defenses we do. The Panthers will have to try to build their running attack against the same defenses. The same potent offenses will try to beat the Bucs defenses. This division, as it usually does, will come down to how we do against each other, and I like the Falcons chances here.

3. Teams have plenty of tape on Matt Ryan and they will have figured him out - I'd like to point out that teams have even more tape on Peyton Manning, Tom Brady and even Drew Brees. There's not much to "figure out" about Matt Ryan - he reads defenses, checks down his receivers, and hits the open man in stride. I've seen Mike Tyson box plenty of times, that doesn't mean I can "stop him".

The best news of all of this chatter is, people wouldn't be so fixated on "proving" the Falcons can't do it, if they weren't terrified they could.

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Does it seem that long ago that the Saints had all but moved to San Antonio, ultimately en route to Los Angeles, while boarded up houses spray painted with FEMA'S dreaded X's in New Orleans accumulated more mold?

Does it seem that long ago that then Commisioner Paul Tagliabue was annointed the role of White Knight by the media for his role in keeping the Saints in New Orleans - for the time being - after the greatest natural disaster in U.S. history?   

Does it seem that long ago - Pre K - that owner Tom Benson moaned and groaned about people not buying enough tickets to see the team, and that maybe New Orleans was not an NFL caliber city?  

Of coures it doesn't. In fact, it seems too recent, way too recent, which makes today's news of the Saints selling out for the 4th consecutive season - with more than a 50,000 waiting list - more than a passing blurb.    

Hindsight has a way of providing perspective on the relative absurdity of it all.

To top it off, the Saints and the State of Louisiana have negotiated the teams' presence in the Crescent City until about 2023.  To boot, the Super Bowl will finally return here after a shameful decade plus absence by the league. All those new stadiums in other venues later, and the consensus is still a slam dunk that nobody can host the Big Game, or the Big Party,  like New Orleans.

Call it a minor miracle, or indicative of the wizardry of Father Time.  And some redemption for those who have chosen to Keep The Faith.

The news is hardly all appeasing. Who Dat faithful still worry if their team can really compete for it all come September, if they can stop people from out-scoring their potent offense, and if the new season will go south into another forty-something fall. They worry if Drew Brees will get hurt, or if Sean Payton was a one hit wonder. They worry if Reg-gie will ever be what he was advertised to be.

In the bigger picture, Saints fans have more important things to worry about. Like their jobs, their homes, their kids' educations, if they can afford to get sick, their cars - when this nasty thing called a recession but in reality is a black hole - when and if this malaise will ever come to an end.

Traditional optimism about the future has become unhinged by cover the ass in the present, just like during the aftermath of a hurricane.  

Saints fans also worry - or position themselves - for who the next Mayor will be, Mr. Nagin having worn out his welcome.  They are still trying to understand Bobby Jindall, resigned to that being a waste of time, again reminded that politicians remain moving targets of expediency, irrespective of party, the spineless jellyfish of the sea. Predictably, that sentiment has run back to Capitol Hill and the White House after the latest propaganda campaigns of change have already run their course.

They are used to all the petty bickering among councilmen at City Hall, with some if it finally starting to seethe underneath their skins, but too concerned about their own welfares to do anything about it. Except mostly for people like Garland Robinette, who make a living doing it on talk radio.  

Some still wonder why former Gov. Kathleen Blanco and some in her adminsitration were never at least indicted for involuntary manslaughter after what transpired here in 2005. 

The laissez-faire and charm that has accompanied being a New Orleanian, and a Saints fan, has been dissipated by present day circumstance and reality. No matter how good the news   may be, there is something potentially adverse lurking just behind it.

Sign of the times; the best and worst of times for Saints fans.   

Apparently, the players did not read or adhere to NFL Handbook Rule 101, which advises against urinating in public, and 101A, which strongly suggests not compounding the situation with lewd conduct if caught in such a compromising position.

These disconcerting events had reverberations throughout Who Dat Nation.  

Would Saints marketers in the front office have to change the beloved slogan, Bless You Boys, into - Boys Will Be Boys?  Will the use of Geaux Saints, Geaux still be considered appropriate?

Counsel for their defense has a tall order. They will likely contend that some of the evidence has dried up and that if the passers by were male, a complaint likely would not have been made. Defense best not claim the latter, to avoid incurring any wrath from the special interest group WARP (Women Against Random Peeing). The prosecution will likely overwhelm the judge with aggravating circumstances.

What will their sentence be? Will community service require them to relieve themselves in a state facility twice a day in the presence of corrections officers to verify that it was done - in a urinal? What happens if they miss? Will they be further penalized for personal foul, or intentional grounding?  Let's hope it doesn't degenerate into an analysis of what is and isn't allowed outside the pocket.

During the whistle-blowing, hustle bustle of training camp drills this summer, assistant coaches will have to think twice before exhorting the troops with a standard battle cry, "C'mon, let's see what 'ya got!"

Such transgressions have not been recalled (or at least reported) by Saints players, thus Biren Ealy and Kolomana Kapanui will go down as having put their own set of  footprints, er, stains, on franchise history.

There are about 80 bodies on the roster, about 1/3 of which will not be come September, making their slim chances of making the team that much more remote. In fact, they were   just cut, effectively having pissed away their opportunities to become Saints.    

The Saints have never had a "franchise" defensive back.

To date, their best has probably been Dave Whitsell, taken from the Bears in the 1967 expansion draft. Safety Tommy Myers ('72 - '81) had limited ability but a decent career due to effort and consistency. During the Mora era, the defensive backfield was manned by ordinaries who would not have started for many other teams, or even made their  rosters. Their stints resulted from the largesse of the formidable front seven of the Dome Patrol.

Jimmy Mora, Jr., coaching the defensive backfield for his father, heavily influenced the team making CB Alex Molden their top draft pick in the '96 draft, passing on stellar RB Eddie George in the process. Molden had 8 interceptions in 5 seasons with the Saints.  Lamentably, now retired CB Fred Thomas was featured in a YouTube video titled Worst Cornerback Ever.

Too bad S Ed Reed of Destrehan did not seek free agency to leave the Ravens and finish his career in New Orleans. If he did, he would be just as valuable to the Saints (and worthy of just as much compensation) as Drew Brees. Reed is not only the best DB, but is the most dominant defensive player in the league.   

Defenses really are not on a level playing field with offenses in today's NFL. This is primarily due to the league making a conscientious effort to market the game for offense in the late 1980's with new rules for liberal blocking techniques by offensive linemen and no contact allowed by CB's on receivers beyond 5 yards. This is typified by the referees biased to making ticky-tacky pass interference calls to the extent that throwing deep late in close games by offenses is good strategy in that a flag may get thrown almost as frequently as a completion might occur. It is absurd that pass interference is not subject to officials' review in the booth, a real injustice to the game.          

There aren't any "shutdown" cornerbacks in the league anymore. Deion Sanders was known as one early in his career, but just as much because many QB's were afraid to throw in his direction, not wanting to risk being on the wrong side of a Prime Time pick six television highlight. As his career wore on, Sanders became an inviting target to run power sweeps at as he became astute at avoiding contact and turned into a wimpy tackler. Out in Oakland, Nnamdi Asomugha is as close to a shutdown corner as there is, highly adept at the "bump and run" technique, following in the footsteps of Raider legacies Willie Brown and Lester "Stick-Em" Hayes.      

Pre-requisites for top corners are something of a Catch 22.  Smaller ones may be swift enough to run with wide receivers, but lack the height to break up passes thrown at taller wideouts, and the physicality to make sure tackles. The taller ones (6'0 and over) simply tend to not be fast enough to stay. It's tough out there, on the island. The CB's opponent knows where he is going and has the wheels to get there quickly. The refs stand by, prone to penalize for any inadvertent contact. The position is as difficult to master as any, including QB. The best ones simply minimize the damage.

It's no coincidence that many top safeties have been cornerback conversions. Corners are frequently switched when they are not up to snuff in man to man, or later on in their careers when they lose a step. Hall of Fame S Ronnie Lott was an average corner before making the switch. Saints 3rd year corner Usama Young has some ability but is now being projected at safety for this upcoming training camp.

Here's to keeping the faith that top draft choice Malcolm Jenkins can change the Saints' longtime woes out on the island that is CB. On college film, he appears to have good size, sufficient speed, and the range to make plays. Keys for him will be how well he reacts to the ball while in flight - many corners shadow adequately but do not turn around and play the ball in the instant that it counts -  and how he reacts to the inevitable, which is getting beat. If Jenkins' territory stays firmer than the wetlands in much of south Louisiana, he will be considered a success.