Striving for mediocrity with Arthur Blank and his Atlanta Falcons

It’s as if Atlanta Falcons owner Arthur Blank built a shiny, state-of-the-art garage, and is now content parking his lime-green AMC Gremlin in the bay.

The Atlanta Falcons showed us some good things in their frustrating loss to the Seattle Seahawks. The offensive line appeared to have gelled somewhat, allowing two sacks, but opening some holes and keeping Matt Schaub relatively clean.

Granted, the Seahawks defensive line is almost as suspect as the Atlanta Falcons’ front, but the only real issues today were Alex Mack‘s newfound proclivity for holding and Kaleb McGary‘s rookie lumps.

The defense had two consecutive three-and-outs against a team with a potent offense and their backs against the wall. The running game wasn’t spectacular but showed some flashes, and allowed the offense a balance in the second half.  Russell Gage showed he could step into Mohamed Sanu’s old role.

Austin Hooper was Austin Hooper.

Things to build on had they a head coach who knew how to do so and weren’t 1-7 through the first eight games into a sixteen game season.  With this season out of reach and a head coach doing a pretty good imitation of a lost ball in the high weeds, the only option is to take the moral victories from each performance.

Moral victories, in the NFL, are simply losses in high heels and floozie dust. They’re for those who find mediocrity an acceptable substitute for winning.

Arthur Blank is a moral victory junkie.

Arthur Blank does not have a commitment to excellence, and it shows in how he handles his team.  He’s fine with a participation trophy, as long as he gets to wave at parades and go to country club charity events. Winning isn’t the goal for him; showing up is all he really cares about.

By keeping Dan Quinn as his coach, he’s rewarding incompetence, saying to any potential head coach “Come to Atlanta. Results don’t really matter here. Do your five years, shake hands with the mayor, say the right things, and that’s all you have to worry about.”

It’s a corrosive mindset. Those of us old enough to remember Rankin Smith sat through decades of an owner who allowed that kind of vibe to take root in the organization, devouring it from the inside.

Year after year of empty hope with no will to bring about change, and a culture listless and hollow. Nothing expected, nothing ever earned.

There was hope when Arthur Blank bought the team. He jumped in with a splash and made all the right promises. We believed, because, after years of frustration, we wanted to believe.

Since then, we’ve seen a half-decade of Matt Ryan‘s career wasted, Roddy White and Tony Gonzalez ending their careers with no rings, and an Atlanta Falcons fan base embarrassed while our bitterest rivals achieved a success that we sniffed for a half a Super Bowl, only to have it smashed to pieces.

Basically, he sold us the sizzle, the bill of goods, just like he built gargantuan, colorful stores to sell breakaway screwdrivers and cheap, plastic power tools.

So now we’re stuck with Mercedes-Benz Stadium, that shiny, state-of-the-art garage, empty but for that lime-green Gremlin.

Because, in Arthur Blank’s mind, it’s just as good as the Ferrari parked in New Orléans.