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" I never had much sympathy for the dog-killer Michael Vick. But last night, during Philadelphia&amp;#039;s mangled effort against the suddenly doughty Saints \u2014 head-bangers once more, if only for a night \u2014 I started to feel sorry for the erstwhile dingo-dispatcher, who looked as unaccomplished and greasy in his quarterback role as Drew Brees, leader of the Saints, looked elegant and buttery in his. No one throws the ball better than Brees at this moment in NFL history \u2014 his passes travel with velocity, somehow get air beneath them, and seem to land sticky in the hands of his fair-to-middling receiver corps. At the same time, I&amp;#039;m not sure anyone looks as clueless \u2014 or is as hopelessly underprotected \u2014 as Vick, a fact testified to multiple times last night by ebony and ivory twin dwarf heads of the Gruderico: Michael Vick sees the red zone and he wants to paint it black. It&amp;#039;s no wonder that the Eagles, who keenly ditched the broken-down Donovan McNabb on the Redskins two years ago and then let lil&amp;#039; Kevin Kobb wander west into the Phoenix sunset and lived to tell (everyone) about it, now stand on the verge of complete forgettability, having dropped four straight. The straight fact is Vick is under center, and there is no plan B. It did not have to be the end for the Eagles last night. But this is the Week 9 turn, where momentum takes a toehold; one team stakes itself to a 3-5 record with a win and suddenly seems worth dressing up for, while another falls to the same 3-5 and seems worthy of only a glance as it tumbles down the rocks of despair. The Eagles are so generally bad that maybe the Saints proved nothing last night beyond the fact that they possess only the second-worst defense in the league at this point. Coaching genius is rarely borne of gadget plays on which a player hides from the other team, like when an Eagles wide receiver lay supine in the end zone to avoid detection on a kickoff. So was it a good game? Sure, if you&amp;#039;re still living in a world where the Saints deserve the love of the nation for everything New Orleans suffered during Katrina. By that rationale it&amp;#039;s time for some post-Sandy Jets love. All hail the true &amp;#039;Aints of 2012! Really, what pleasure is there in a game in which a quality running back like LeSean McCoy \u2014 ever the bridesmaid in Andy Reid&amp;#039;s pass-happy schemings \u2014 who last night ran for more than 100 yards in the first half, is set aside as an offensive weapon in order to let the hapless master of mongrel manslaughter show off his patented 10-yard-sprint-drop-and-roll routine. Michael Vick running with the ball once sent NFL colormen into tremors of worry for the pocket-adverse QB. Now it&amp;#039;s just a late-game trigger for Jon Gruden to beg for Andy Reid to keep his job. To his ever-questionable credit, Gruden argued for suspended Saints coach Sean Payton \u2014 a free agent as of yesterday \u2014 as a paragon of virtue and franchise loyalty, not to mention a real capitalist motivator who watched the game like a grounded astronaut from his patio in Houston. As Gruden himself might remind anyone who watched last night&amp;#039;s romp in the swamp with even a passing interest, getting through a game like that is all about your mindset. Some people saw a glass half full of Drew Brees leading a team with no discernible defensive presence and said: He&amp;#039;s still our man. Whereas others looked at a tumbler mashed full-up with the admittedly apologetic alphadog assassin and declare: Sheeet, let&amp;#039;s watch RG3 on Tivo. MORE NFL WEEK 9 ON ESQUIRE.COM: Monday Morning Cheerleader with Taylor of the Jacksonville Jags  and Lisa Salters on LeSean McCoy COME BACK EVERY WEEK FOR THE MONDAY NIGHT FOOTBALL RECAP WITH TOM CHIARELLA Follow The Culture Blog on RSS and on Twitter at @ESQCulture. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/sports/a16610/eagles-saints-monday-night-football-2012-14500859/?click=news>