It doesnt seem like so long ago when I was gifted a Who Dat shirt (and an Andy Gibb album) from our cousins down by de bayou in the 80s. Archie Manning and the Saints have long been a part of my family's mythology- from swimming daily as a 4 year old in the Sigma Nu pool at Ole Miss (down the street from our campus apartment) to my first word "peprally."
Many nights after a football game in the Grove and a bit of whisky loosening the tongue,my father often waxed poetic about Mississippi's contributions to football and everlasting Southern glory.Oh yeah and red heads- my dad seemed to think that was a contributing factor to football glory- his, Archie's and others.
When I was younger it was Archie, then John Fourcade, and finally Deuce McAllister who took the 1-55 to Sainthood.Joe Horn attended Ittawamba Community College in Fulton, where my grandfather lectured and he became part of our collective football magic as well.
We didnt have season tickets or attend games firsthand, but football on Sundays meant a Saints game on in our house. The first Christmas after Katrina, Heather and I made sure all of our gifts were New Orleans related. many of our relatives got Saints jerseys- some were bewildered (especially the Eagles fans)but we wanted to spread the message.
They were timely gifts, as New Orleans advanced to a winning season.My dad has always emphasized being a real fan, win or lose (hence his passion for Ole Miss) and Imust confess, I think the satisfaction of being a long term Saints fan in this situation is pretty sweet. In the dusky, rusty,broke down afterglow of what our city has been through, no matter your neux dat or who dat status, it feels DAMN GOOD!
GEAUx SAINTS!!!
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