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A motley crew indeed. A virtual smorgasborg of men who play with heart. They now play for a purpose. They are a true team now. Not a whole lot of distractions. A man's man for a coach. Just look a guy in the eye and ask him to lay it all out on the field. That is what they do. They WILL themselves to win each time they walk out of the locker room. With a few wins under their belt against some tough division rivals, they now know what winning tastes like. Confidence breeds nastiness. A good nastiness. Not an arogant, or selfish nastieness. A nastiness that says..."we ain't your guaranteed W from here on out brother" When you have Atlanta on the sked, buckle your chinstrap and be ready for a scrap. We fight to win so you best gameplan well for the new Falcons. Not a good feeling for the Panthers and Bucs. I am very much looking forward to see what the magician does for this next Draft... Yeah Dimitrov, just keep quiet and go about your business. We know your lookin' at a few gems out there... Just sit tight in the tall grass until Atlanta's number is called. Then make your selection. Yep, just like you did in New England. Just like you did when we nailed Brady, ummm, I mean Ryan. Lofton. Free agent turner. Our big left tackle, you know the guy we reached for in the first round... yep Baker. Uh huh, right down the line... think about em' boys... go ahead and start rubbing those hands together in anticipation. Knowing, we're gonna keep loading up... so we can open up a can of whoop**** of course. C'mon guys, think about it. Each week we are thinking to ourselves...hmmm, can we take these guys out this week?... they got a pretty good team... then the boys come out like a pack of wild dogs and we begin to read the articles during the following week from all the media outlets... yep...They're even beginning to like us because we were the underdogs who fought our way out of a real dark alley. Yep, I just keep readin' and smilin'... With the (insert a fairly high number less than 32) pick in the 2009 draft, the Atlanta Falcons select...you hear that? What? That noise? Yep... it's John Grudens stomach acid churning while he ponders what that magician is going to pull out of his ****, ummm, sleeve. Later gents...