Super Bowl open thread; Update: Geaux Saints!

Looking forward to an epic clash! Neither Manning nor Brees are known as chokers and so barring unfortunnate injury, I don’t see either team getting too far ahead. As they used to say back in the days before the TV remote became common,

“DON’T TOUCH THAT DIAL!”

cane_loader on February 7, 2010 at 12:29 PM

On a day of such anticipation of a well-matched championship game, I didn’t want to have to say this, but the number of misguided comments denigrating our team, and by extension, our state and people, for political reasons that are not the fault of our SPORTS team or of most of the big-hearted people of the state of Louisiana, means that some of you need to think about what you have said in this thread and the messed up pre-game comments I have been greeted with during this visit to HotAir.

It’s an effing football game for football fans and has nothing to do with Hurricane Katrina and here’s what I, as someone who suffered greatly in that storm, and in the forgotten Hurricane Rita that kicked us when we were down, take away from this:

1. You are tired of hearing about how the Saints’ team, led by the inspiration and community-devoted Drew Brees, might lift the spirits of Louisianans. Because,

2. You don’t want to hear about Hurricane Katrina and some “white guilt” trip. Therefore – you don’t want the Saints to win.

3. Grammatically, this works out to “I don’t want the Saints to win because I don’t want the people of Louisiana to smile.

That’s as messed-up and convoluted and.. HEARTLESS… a line of reasoning as I’ve seen in a long time, folks. And a real crappy way to wake up and check a “Super Bowl” thread.

Let me review what we have been through down here. And since you said you don’t want the Saints to win so that you don’t have to hear it from the LSM, well then EAT IT AND SMILE, because you’re going to hear it from me.

Those two hurricanes were the closest thing to an end-of-the-world moment to hit a region since Sherman burned Georgia, excepting 9/11. Let’s hope those of you making the thoughtless comments here never have to go through the utter psychological Armageddon many of us NOT living in New Orleans faced. Massive evacuation, with no end in sight. Destruction of our homes. Babies crying on the side of the road with dirty diapers as the family car sits, hood up, with a blown radiator hose (it was hot, too), or out of gas. Yellow bags over every gas pump in a 150-mile radius. Stores stripped bare, from infant formula to Fritos. Family members out of touch, wondering if they are drowning in an attic because all the phones are down. Being prevented from bringing your boat to New Orlean to look for them. Grandmothers trapped in attics on dying cell phones, pleading for anyone to try to get to them before they died. Jonesing gang-bangers from New Orleans swarming your town with wild eyes, looking for “The Hood” and making mothers load their guns. The stench of ruined sewer systems. The sight of entire towns laid waste, as if a large bomb has gone off in every block. The mold. The toxic mud from the Murphy Oil refinery coating the walls and the family photos, borne on a 10-foot tidal wave. The acrid smell of burned Love Bugs, splattered all over the radiator until it overheated, the smoke working its way into a corner of the mind it will never leave. The knowledge that things will never be the same – an utter rip in the space-time continuum. The flashbacks – the drinking – the depression – the shakes when one sees a building under demolition in 2010 because one is transported right back into 2005, and to the daily dark knowledge that everything you know can be broken without warning and that people – even family members- can turn into animals, suddenly unrecognizable. Brother fighting brother, stranger helping stranger.

All of that – ALL OF IT is stuff that few Americans have gone through in their lives.

So now we have a football team, and we are smiling for the first time before a hurricane named Katrina became “The Bitch That Ate New Orleans.” The music is playing – the sun is shining – many cars, mine included, have become “WhoDatMobiles,” bedecked with flags and paint and beads and joy, as we go through town honking and hollering at each other. Homemade songs on the radio, made in a shed, saying, “We Believe!” A feeling of family – of the goodness that still remains in life. A sun beaming down on something good for once, maybe even bringing as bit of healing from dark days that none of us will ever fully get over. A football team and community who have suffered through 43 years of a sports-Katrina every season. Down here in Cajun country, we’re cooking – dancing – and yes, SMILING.

And not a single one of you can stop us from doing that.

WHO DAT?!

cane_loader on February 7, 2010 at 1:04 PM