As I write, a local news anchor has just reported that it is 64 hours until kickoff for the New Orleans Saints’ game in Chicago against the Bears. If the Saints win, they go to the Super Bowl, a goal the team has never achieved, or even come close to. The idea that it would be now, a year and a half after “the storm” that changed everything in the Crescent City, is just too much.
I got an earful of what’s right with the Saints from a cab driver tonight: The coach, Sean Payton, the long-time star Deuce McAllister, the maturing rookie Reggie Bush, and especially the fans who, according to the cabbie (who had the classic N’awlins accent) willed the Saints to victory against the Eagles after Bush’s late fumble revived nightmare visions of past Saints fiascos.
“We was just screamin’! I never heard anythin’ so loud. We were just all sayin’, ‘No way! Not this time!'”
My morning ride’s driver seemed oblivious to it all. He was a Bosnian, only in New Orleans for six months after ten years in Pittsburgh, PA. He was looking for work. I had my camera and took a few pictures from the window. It was a dreary day and these pix aren’t my best, but they couldn’t be of anyplace but New Orleans:
Now it’s 63 1/2 hours…