The Black & Gold Rising!!
My aunt Adelaide once told me that she read and believed that we each have only 7 minutes (or there abouts) of total joy or bliss in our entire life. I hate that idea. But if there is any truth to it I used up a couple of them in the Superdome when a 5’8” shaggy-haired surfer dude looking kicker made a field goal to launch the Saints over the Vikings and into the Super Bowl.
Joyous group bedlam! Jet engine level noise, hugging and high fiving of total strangers. A shared release, the loudest sigh ever on earth. The curse was over – the Aint’s no more. We’re the real deal. As a true Saints fan I paused in the midst of the pandemonium to look for the penalty flag – an automatic response to years of deflated hopes. I do not remember why or how, but I ended up standing on the top of the back of two chairs screaming a guttural scream. Maybe it was for all we’d been through – for all we had witnessed transpire in this very dome – this was it. Forward now – no looking back.
New Orleans… it’s our time!