Black and Gold Super Bowl...A Reflection...

43 years ago, the National Football Team blessed the world with the Super Bowl and the New Orleans Saints. One has never been a let down, while the other started 5-1 in the preseason and ran the opening kick back 94-yards to the excitement of the fans at Tulane Stadium. Although the Saints would go on to lose that and the six games that followed, they would post an expansion best 3-11 season, leaving the city of New Orleans with a glimmer of hope about their newest beau. And after that promising start, the relationship between this city and its football team would be one of love and hate, probably moreso hate, the love was probably just loyalty.

My love affair with the Saints started in 1983, at a time where the “S” had fallen off and brown-paper bags were the latest in stylish headgear in New Orleans. But I was drawn to this team. Probably because it was only a 20-minute drive to see them play, and my family, except my dad, loved them, but the Saints were MY team. I wasn’t privy to the ‘Aints, I just kept on rooting for them and those better days that were sure to come. I saw glimpses of greatness with the “Cajun Cannon” and “The Dome Patrol,” I cheered when “Bless You Boys” came on, and still believed that the Saints would “Go All the Way” when I “Cha-Chinged” my way to Rally’s. But I never gave up hope.

The Saints have become so important to me that I have a Fleur-de-Lis tattooed on my calf as a symbol of New Orleans, and still remember sneaking away from my go-kart post to the party room upstairs at Celebration Station to catch the first ever playoff victory against the Rams. I couldn’t tell you how many people I “high-fived” and hugged after Az Hakim muffed that punt, but I do remember exactly where I was. Likewise I remember watching the return to New Orleans on Monday night in 2006 instead of briefing cases and how that year almost caused me to fail out of law school because the team did so well and I had to be at Woodrow’s EVERY Sunday.
And I remember last Sunday just the same, I remember how nervous I was throughout the game and how at the end of the fourth quarter and during overtime I was shaking. I’ve experienced the let downs that true Saints fans have for the past 26 years, but I still continue to pull for the home team. Then came the kick…



Surprisingly, as nervous as I was, I couldn’t take my eyes off the TV, expecting the worse but hoping for the best. Hell, this is the same guy who missed a 37-yard field goal against the Bucs with no pressure, so with the Super Bowl on the line and a 40-yard kick coming up, I knew it wasn’t a guarantee. All I could do is look up at the ceiling and speak very softly “God, u know we need this. Not the fans, not the team, but the whole city of New Orleans.” And as the kick split the uprights perfectly the tears began to fall. It’s now Wednesday after the game and I still don’t have the words to express my emotions. It was all so surreal, so dream-like, so…so…PERFECT! All I could think about was calling my dad, the #1 Saints hater and say “now what!” To call my 82 year-old Grandmother to hear the joy in her voice after waiting 43 years for this moment was just crazy. The text messages, the Facebook messages, the shots of Bourbon Street, Jim Henderson’s call; “Pigs have flown! Hell has frozen over! The Saints are going to the Super Bowl!”



For everyone who has stuck with the Saints all their lives like myself, this victory was more than just a game. For everyone who loves New Orleans and wants to see the city move to be better than we were before the storm, this was more than just a game. The naysayers contend that the Vikings gave us the game but we forced 5 turnovers, they say that we intentionally hit Favre and played dirty. Well guess what, we won and the “Brady rule” is BULLSHIT! Not to take nothing away from the Vikings, because that was still one of the greatest games ever played, period.

Thanks for the early birthday present, Saints! The only thing now is to make my dream of Drew Brees riding on a Bacchus float with the Lombardi trophy in tow come true! So where’s the party at on February 7th, New Orleans, or Miami?

WHO DAT?!