It's Been Fifteen Hours, and the Saints Are Still Superbowl Champions

Are people beginning to wonder why we care?

Personally, I think we were, by and large, pretty satisfied that the team had made it to the Superbowl. Nothing could take that away from them or wipe the smirks of pride from our faces.

No, I believe this event is so important to us because what the Saints really did went way deeper than just winning this season's ultimate football game. At a time, and for a long time, when our so-called leaders - city, state, and Federal - were doing everything in their power to divide and fracture the people of New Orleans, this team united us all instead. That was a good thing. It might even have had a little something to do with our recent election, when color lines evaporated, and people appeared to be voting for what was best for all of us, not just for the owners of the franchise.

We're all going to wake up soon enough and get back to work, but until then, this is the kind of dream you want to wallow in for a little while longer. Just five more minutes ... !

If you cannot comprehend what these past weeks have meant for us, then you should consider yourself fortunate. It means you've never suffered a loss nor empathized with anyone who has. Be grateful for what you have, and let us enjoy our metaphorical gumbo and red beans and rice.

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This Just In ...

Breaking News!

We have this to report: Less than twenty-four hours ago, the New Orleans Saints won their first Superbowl. We repeat, the New Orleans Saints - the Saints, people - the motherfucking SAINTS! - won the Superbowl.

Also, for the first time in several years, and in many people's memories, nobody has given a thought to C. Ray Nagin. A city is on its knees in gratitude.

Film at eleven.

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Wow, Just Wow: 31 - 17, S A I N T S!

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Lord, I Want to Be in That Number

Rev. Sykes: Jean Louise. Jean Louise, stand up. Your father's passing.

"To Kill a Mockingbird", Harper Lee

We, too, will be standing, in reverent respect, this evening as our Saints go into that southeastern stadium to play the game of their lives - and ours. But no matter the outcome, the original game is already won. We have arrived. We are there. That was the main goal, the first, the original one, the one that took us so many years to reach, the one that is sufficient unto itself. Win or not the final game, we have already won the historical challenge.

For two generations, New Orleans and its football team have been a source of deprecating humor, sometimes scorn, across the face of the nation, and often across our own lips, as well. Still, under the blanket of inattention, a rowdy pack of underdogs and nominal underachievers have outscored and outplayed the best of the rest of the seemingly best.

And we are there.

We have been reading so much lately of the genius of Peyton Manning (a New Orleans boy) and the invincible drive of his Colts team. At the same time, so few people seem to have taken the trouble to discover the charisma, the gifts, of our new son, Drew Brees, who has worked unstintingly for the revival of this broken city he now calls home, or for his teammates who can be found any day on one New Orleans street or other, wielding a hammer or saw, rebuilding a devastated city, while, at the same time, defending the rights of the disenfranchised or begging for dollars to help restore the broken island-nation of Haiti.

As it is obvious to see, these New Orleans Saints are not just a football team. They represent the best of what the city of New Orleans can offer the rest of the world: self-reliance, self-respect, and pride - pride of place, pride of culture, pride of history - and above all else, compassion for others.

Tonight, there is no game to lose; the game's afoot, but long since won.

Bless you, boys! You are the Saints.

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