Saints celebrating their 40th birthday

By Randy  |   Friday, November 03, 2006  |  Comments( 2 )

New Orleans Saints
Got something to say?

Log In above and share your thoughts on this topic with other fans!
Happy 40th birthday, New Orleans Saints! The Saints turned 40 on Wednesday -- All Saints Day in New Orleans, a city where Catholic Churches and houses of voodoo peacefully coexist side by side.

I read the other day that CBS Evening News anchor Katie Couric, languishing in last place in the ratings race, said "Rome wasn't built in a day." Don't fret, Katie. It's been 40 years and the Saints are still in the construction phase, a work in progress.

As the clock struck midnight on Bourbon Street, I doubt it dawned on many Halloween revelers that the New Orleans Saints turned 40. Maybe they conveniently blocked it out of their minds - contents of volatile memories are often forgotten by the victim. Too many last-second, heart-wrenching defeats. Too many losing seasons. Too little hope for Saints fans.

I take a few last sips of my Hand Grenade - New Orleans' Most Powerful Drink, as it is called by the establishment that sells a lot of it, a sportswriter in the Big Easy must often inflict severe damage to his own body in order to wrap his hands around the pulse of a story. I pull up a chair at my psychic/palm reader friend Bruce the Almighty's table, situated outside one of those Bourbon Street gentlemen's clubs you've all heard of.

I ask him if I should write an open letter to a national publication titled, "Mr. President (Have Pity on the Saints Fan) , given only one playoff victory in four decades. In the letter, I will request that the President declares the New Orleans Saints honorary Super Bowl champions for a day. Declare it a National Holiday.

As former Louisiana Governor Huey Long once said, "Every Man a King." The New Orleans Saints' fans have endured enough suffering to last three life times. Surely, they deserve to be champions of the world for at least 24 hours.

Sipping a Bloody Mary, Bruce the Almighty says he has no strong feelings one way or another about my potential letter.

I ask him if he thinks the stars are properly aligned for the Saints this year. To my great surprise and just about everyone else standing around the table, he says that having mammoth offensive and defensive linemen are more important than the alignment of the stars. At least, when it comes to winning in the National Football League.

"What kind of an astrologer is this?" I ask myself.

Bruce the Almighty asks me to draw 11 more tarot cards from the deck. He examines the cards carefully. Speaks some obscure psychic babble I don't quite understand. "Magical symbols," he says. Personality. Internal Focus. Stars crossing into awe.

Then, he tells me to take heart and says that the cards I have drawn from the deck reveal that this will be the Saints' year. I notice he does not make eye contact with me as he says this and I can not help but feel that he is bluffing. He says these words without much conviction. With all candor, I do not believe him. Nevertheless, I nod my head in vigorous agreement. Maybe it is the Hand Grenade taking effect.

It's Halloween night on Bourbon Street. Many Saints fans wearing Brees and Bush jerseys are baying soulfully at the moon. Those Hand Grenades and Hurricanes are powerful beverages. I smile at their frivolity. A wide and sincere smile. Bruce does not. He's made only $25 all night. I bid Bruce the Almighty a good night.

Walking down Bourbon back to my car, I make a mental list of the Saints' most memorable moments - some of those moments came in victory but far too many in defeat.

John Gilliam returning the opening kickoff 94 yards for a touchdown in the first game in franchise history. Tom Dempsey, born with half a kicking foot, booting a 63-yard field goal to beat the Detroit Lions with no time left in old Tulane Stadium on Willow Street. At least 200,000 people claimed to have witnessed that kick in person, although only a few thousand fans remained in the wooden seats as the kick sailed through the uprights.

I think about Tampa Bay, this week's Saints opponent, snapping a 26-game losing streak against the Saints in the Superdome. Bucs coach John McKay lit a huge cigar that afternoon and called it, "the greatest victory in the world." A bit of a stretch I think. But I can understand why he said it.

I think about the Saints blowing a 35-14 third-quarter lead to Kenny Stabler and the Oakland Raiders on "Monday Night Football." Stabler rallied the Raiders in the final 15 minutes and later finished his career as a Saint. I guess "The Snake" figured he owed the city a debt of gratitude after embarrassing the Saints so badly.

I remember the Bagheads. I remember Steve Bartkowski's "Hail Mary' to Alfred Jenkins that knocked the Saints out of the playoffs - sheer agony no sports fan should ever have to endure.

I was there when the Rams' Az Hakim muffed a punt with 1:43 left that Brian Milne recovered, preserving the team's first playoff win, 31-28.

When New Orleans defeated the Falcons in Week 3, It felt like every football fan in America wanted the Saints to win that night. It was indeed more than a football game. It was an emotional rescue for a city still struggling from the devastating after-effects of Hurricane Katrina.

With the Saints having been given new life by various factors, perhaps one day there's a chance they'll win a Super Bowl. Bruce the Almighty would probably agree.

Just after your 40th birthday, Saints, America wishes you many more.

Original New Orleans Saints prose from Randy Savoie at RealFootball365.com
Got something to say?

Log In above and share your thoughts on this topic with other fans! (2)

Article Tools Share!   |  RSS  |  Bleacher Report About Bleacher Report