“I think we feel like we’ve got a guy we can win with,” Saints GM Mickey Loomis declared this week at the NFL Combine, doubling down on Derek Carr like a Bourbon Street gambler riding a losing streak. But here’s the kicker: Carr’s contract is currently haunting New Orleans’ salary cap like a voodoo curse, with a $51.4M hit in 2025 that’s scarier than a midnight bayou fog. Let’s just say the Saints’ financials are messier than a gumbo pot after Mardi Gras—and Carr’s stuck in the middle of it all.

New Orleans doesn’t just love football—it marinates it in jazz, jambalaya, and jaw-dropping superstition. The fleur de lis isn’t just a logo; it’s a tattoo on the city’s soul. Carr’s embraced that spirit, quoting, “Faith, family, and then football” as his mantra. But in 2024, the faith wavered. The Saints started 2-0, then face-planted into a 7-game skid, with Carr battling injuries and the defense softer than a beignet.

Carr’s Contract: The $59M elephant in the Superdome

Let’s break it down like a Drew Brees slant route. Carr’s 4-year, $150M deal—inked in 2023—was supposed to be the Saints’ ticket back to relevancy. Instead, it’s turned into a Wolf of Wall Street-level fiscal bender. In 2025, the QBs owed $30M in base salary and a $10M roster bonus, ballooning his cap hit to $51.4M. That’s more than the GDP of a small island nation.

To survive their current -$50M cap hell, the Saints are likely to restructure (again), converting cash to bonuses to free up $31M now… but kicking a $59.67M dead-cap nuke to 2026. “Leadership is not about being the loudest voice in the room; it’s about being the most consistent,” Carr once said. True words have never been spoken.

Yet, true to form, the Who Dat Nation rallies. Remember Derek Carr’s 2016 Raiders magic? Dude dropped 513 yards on Tampa Bay like he was playing Madden in rookie mode.

Or that 75-yard game-winning drive against Carolina? “If we win every game, that’s all I care about,” he shrugged. Saints fans crave that ice-in-his-veins swagger—especially after last season’s 34-0 shutout loss to Green Bay, which felt like getting dunked on by Aaron Rodgers in a cheesehead.

Tell that to Saints fans sweating this financial Russian roulette!

Sure, the 33-year-old QB delivered a solid 2024 stat line (2,145 yards, 15 TDs, 5 INTs in 10 games), but the team flopped to 5-12, got their coach fired, and finished dead last in the NFC South. Carr’s resilience? Legendary. His 2016 Raiders MVP-caliber run—513-yard games, 4-TD barrages—proves he’s got it.

But in NOLA, he’s stuck in a Groundhog Day loop: great quotes, gritty comebacks, and cap sheets uglier than a Bourbon Street hangover. Here’s where it gets wild.

Mickey Loomis: The cap wizard who can’t quit Derek Carr

New HC Kellen Moore—a man whose play-calling rep is shinier than a Mardi Gras bead—called Carr a “big-time quarterback” but dodged committing to him like a politician at a tax debate. Meanwhile, Loomis is all-in, insisting Carr’s their guy despite the Saints’ offense ranking 24th in scoring last year (19.9 PPG). “Every setback is an opportunity for a comeback,” Carr preached last season. But at what cost?

Let’s not forget: This is the same franchise that turned “Who Dat” into a religion and paper bags into fashion statements during the ‘Aints’ dark days. Carr’s impressive career completion rate of 65.1% and 257 touchdowns highlight his reliability, yet the Saints’ reckless spending habits are a recipe for disaster.

Restructuring Carr again would be their eighth major cap move since 2021. Even Breaking Bad’s Saul Goodman would blush at these accounting gymnastics.

So, where does this leave us? Carr’s Contract is a financial horror movie, Loomis is playing cap Jenga, and the fans are chanting “Who Dat” through gritted teeth. But here’s the twist: Carr’s still got juice. His 67.7% completion rate last year? Elite. His 39 career rushing TDs? Sneaky athleticism. And let’s not forget—this is the same guy who once threw 4 TDs in a game five times in a single season.

As Pat McAfee quipped during his Combine comeback, “Some people thought we were gonna sail off into the sunshine, never come back.” Replace “we” with “Carr,” and you’ve got the Saints’ 2025 motto. Whether this ends in a Lombardi-fueled parade or a cap-apocalypse meltdown, one thing’s certain: In New Orleans, the story’s always spicier than a crawfish boil. So pass the hot sauce, y’all.

Mic drop! (But pray it doesn’t cost $59M to pick it up.)