Oh When the Saints

You already know by now that the New Orleans Saints are going to the Superbowl. I know you know this. It is a first time trip for a team that has been around since the 60s. It's been a hard time being a Bears fan in the city, to tell you the truth. It was nearly impossible to watch any of the games. People hate the Bears here. Really, really, really hate the Bears because of that '06 playoff game. I've heard reports from multiple stories about horrible things Bears fans did at that game: pouring cups of beer on Saints, making Katrina comments, etc. So in short, no gives a hoot or a holler about them down here, and so I have taken to watching the Saints play.

There are no fans like Saints fans. I am not kidding. As their record got stronger and stronger during the season this year, you could feel the buzz and the tension everywhere. People who didn't even watch or care about football were getting excited. We won one game, I am certain, by a field goal because a priest stopped into the bar to Brocato's next door to watch the final minutes and say a blessing. (When I served him his ice cream, I thought maybe it was a costume for the game, but turns out it was authentic.)

So as you can imagine, things got p.r.e.t.t.y. crazy down here on Sunday night when they won the NFC championship. We ran outside with a bottle of champagne. People were crying, cars were honking, and you could hear neighbors cheering and fireworks shooting. My co-worker Frank said the lights went out in his neighborhood minutes after they scored the final field goal. I am convinced that it is because there were so many people with their tvs on.

No one celebrates like New Orleans, so what better place to head than Bourbon Street? To be fair, I rarely ever go there. But the city was going nuts, and this was monumental, so we hopped a street car and headed downtown. My roommate Eva was giving out temporary tattoos, and my other roommate Jennie led the street car in several Saints cheers. The street car driver rang the bell the whole three miles downtown. The closer we got, the more congested traffic got, until it finally stopped. People were literally dancing in the streets outside there cars. Bourbon street was packed - with locals.

We stayed out late, but had a hard time getting home. The street car had been closed in the French Quarter because of the chaos. Everyone was in a good mood. Somehow we managed to catch a cab, and finally made it home, somewhere around 1:30 or 2 in the morning. The die-hards didn't leave til 4 or 4:30, and the news said they didn't even leave when cops tried to shoo them home.

As for the Superbowl, it's scheduled for the first major weekend of Mardi Gras. Of course Drew Brees is a Mardi Gras parade king, but they've had to reschedule the parade times...No one will miss this game.

Caroline and Miriam: wish you were here.