Four straight wins have felt bigger than just a streak; it felt like a turning point. In the middle of it all stood Tyler Shough, the tall 6-foot-5 quarterback who had walked into the building as a second-round question mark and walked out of December looking like the future of the franchise. Some fans had groaned when his name was called with the 40th pick, wondering why the Saints would gamble on a quarterback when there were safer, more polished prospects on the board. Now those same fans were leaning over the rail at the Superdome, chanting his name as he jogged off the field.
Today against Tennessee, Shough captured everything the Saints hoped he could be. Shough stood in the shotgun, calm as the play clock ticked down, scanning the Titans’ defense. He had already carved them up all afternoon, completing 22 of 27 passes, piling up 333 yards, firing two touchdowns without a single throw put in harm’s way. Each completion felt like a quiet answer to every doubt that had followed him from Louisville and from draft day. The ball came out on time, the reads were clean, and the offense moved like it finally belonged to him.
On the sideline, coaches talked about the future in the present tense. They were no longer asking who the next quarterback might be. They were talking about linemen, about corners, about pass rushers, about how this draft could finally be used to build around a player instead of searching for one. For the first time since the card with his name on it had been handed in, the pick did not feel like a risk. It felt like a plan.
In the locker room afterward, the noise was loud, but the feeling was simple. The Saints have just won four straight games. Their rookie quarterback has back-to-back 300-yard games, and Shough had a near-perfect performance against the Titans. The questions about next year had changed. New Orleans no longer needed to chase a savior under center. They could look at the board in this year’s draft, see every other position, and know that the most important one was already standing in their huddle, helmet in hand, ready for what came next.