Arthur Blank never makes himself easy to criticize. Sure, he's made numerous poor judgments since taking over as the owner of our beloved and bedraggled Atlanta Falcons. The problem is that he cares so damn much that it's hard to blame him for sticking his money-coated nose into the team's daily business. So at the end of the day, I rarely blame Blank for what's happened to this nunce-proud franchise. I know he's trying.
But on the off chance that he reads this blog, I'm going to ask him to take it easy now.
It took a lot of courage to hire Comrade Tomislav Dimitroff, a virtual unknown who comes from a background of success. It took further courage to allow the selection of Mike Smith, about as bland a choice as is humanly possible. In short, it took Arthur Blank resisting the urge to be Arthur Blank, letting the big name and the 48 point headline to take a backseat to solid football decisions. I wasn't blown away by either, but I'm okay with that. For once I felt like the guys holding the purse strings didn't need to impress the hell out of me.
So now that the football men are in place, there's no need for Blank to predict anything. He doesn't have to say that the Falcons intend to be active in free agency with their money; I want to hear that from the good Comrade. He doesn't have to say he wants to win multiple Super Bowls before the first real deal of a new era falls into place. He can talk the business of the team or years past all he wants, but looking forward I hope he can be more like Patriots' owner Robert Kraft: watching, smiling a somewhat dazed smile, and basking in the success of a team he set in motion but did not meddle in.
So kick up your legs, Arthur Blank. You deserve it, and I expect it.