New Orleans has confirmed that pigs can fly and hell has frozen over because the Lombardi Trophy is ours!!! (Yes that’s right people, I said “ours” – I am including myself)
The Saints are all about “Faith” and “Believe” – the fans had Faith, they Believed – that against all odds our Black and Gold heroes lead by Breesus (Drew Brees) himself, we could win.
The Colts were a sure favourite to win. My friend Dr Beer was visiting from England, having arrived the day before, she did not have the faith. She looked on at our fan club which had congregated in Lucy’s Bar with concern, especially as The Colts lead 10 up in the first quarter. “We finish strong” we told her, repeating another Saint’s mantra, our confidence still holding strong. I won’t bore you with a play by play but it was an amazing game. We didn’t just win we kicked those horse shoe wearing blue boys out of Miami in style with a final score of 31-17!
I thought the Championship party was big. It paled in comparison to the way the city took off once the Superbowl was claimed. The streets filled with people. There were tears of joy, screams of jubilation, and bear hugs all round. We danced until dawn, quite literally. The clubs played the Saint’s unofficial anthem, Ying Yang Twins Stand Up and Get Krunk, every third song! (Incidentally, Krunk apparently means Krazy Drunk).
When the Saints returned home on Monday the road to the airport was blocked with traffic all the way to the city (and it’s a half our drive without traffic!) – they were given a hero’s welcome having raised New Orleans out of the ashes, “We aren’t victims any more. We are winners!” The Tuesday after the Superbowl was renamed “Dat Tuesday” and each Krewe from Carnival provided their best float to parade the team and trophy through the city for the fans which gathered. A first estimation count indicated 800,000 people showed up, we are pretty certain that’s only half because people watching from the surrounding buildings along the parade route weren’t included in the count. Most parishes in Louisiana provided an unofficial half day on Tuesday to allow people to drive to New Orleans to attend the parade – and of course most people hadn’t turned up to work on the Monday either, with some parishes having declared it a public holiday in anticipation of success.
This was not just a football game for New Orleans, it was a giant step in their recovery from Katrina. Drew Brees arrived in New Orleans after the hurricane, and immediately stepped in to help rebuild the community, now he has lead the Saints to victory at our first ever Superbowl and the city is bursting with pride. Even the ‘ladies what lunch’ are seen dressed in football jersesys! Breesus will never have to buy a beer or pay a parking fine in this town again. After parading around the town he went to Lucy’s Bar (the very place where I witnessed him claim the trophy) and shared his pre-game chant with the fans:
When I say “1” you say “2”
When I say “win” you say “for you”
When I say “3” you say “4”
When I say “win” you say “some more”
When I say “5” you say “6”
When I say “win” you say “for kicks”
When I say “7” you say “8”
When I say “win” you say “its great”
When I say “9” you say “10”
When I say “win” you say “again”
Win Again Win Again Win AgainAnd now For Something Completely Different-
Well, not so much really.
Mardi Gras was unofficially renamed Lombradi Gras in commemoration and celebration of the Saint’s Lombardi trophy success, and most Krewe’s had a float which in some way signified their pride in and love for the Saints. And a brass band or two marching along played “Oh When The Saints Go Marching In.”
Carnival is something quite incredible – hundreds of thousands of people line the streets – with arms out stretched looking skyward as floats roll by – begging for a “throw” – be it beads, cups, a soft toy, doubloons (which is essentially a big coin with the Krewe’s stamp on it), or for the Muses parade – SHOES!
Of course this can be rather dangerous – particularly for those as uncoordinated as little ol me! While watching a parade one sunny Sunday afternoon there was a shower of cups hurled at my direction, and as I went to cover my eyes with my arm a stack of no less than 10 giant plastic cups flew straight at my lips. My lower lip split and blood gushed forth. That was not the end of it – I was no more than 10 minutes latter struck across the face with a string of beads leaving bright red circles running diagonally across my face – which together with my swollen, bloody lip – I looked like I was in combat at war and was from then on for the duration of Carnival named “Rambo”. Needless to say I dodged and ducked any cups which came my way after that. However we caught so many beads it literally took two trips to get them home on Mardi Gras and my house is now beautifully decorated in them.
The rule with beads is – if you catch them, they’re yours. If you drop them – DO NOT PICK THEM UP. Some people scrounged the floor for the beads which slipped through peoples fingers – “tut tut, bad luck!” – true locals watching on would say (in an appropriately southern accent of course). This can result in some arguments when two hands go for one string of beads, but generally spirits are high and the argument will be more of a “No, really, you have them” kind than “they’re mine!” Because as we discovered – there are plenty to go around! I caught a pack of ‘Mardi Gras 2010 peanuts’ and someone offered to give me $10 for them! I don’t like peanuts so it was an easy thing to hand them over, but I couldn’t accept $10 for peanuts I was just fortunate enough to catch (I had in fact been reaching for a long set of white beads, but the bitch in front got them first when a pack of peanuts fell right into my outstretched hand). The happy couple taking the peanuts home to their mother couldn’t believe their luck – FREE PEANUTS FOR MAMA – and I made someone’s Mardi Gras – that was enough for me.
The other thing you may have heard about beads is that they may be claimed in exchange for flashing one’s breasts. This occurs of an evening down bourbon street. Literally everyone was doing it – except me, yes I am a prude. Its as though people leave their dignity etc parked on Canal St while they take a leisurely and mischievous jaunt down Bourbon – the kind of behavior which might be frowned upon elsewhere is openly accepted and expected here!
The funniest part of walking down Bourbon (which can occur most weekends but is especially prolific during Carnival Season) is the 'Bible Bashers' -Now Im a Christian so this is not a term I use lightly, but it is as though these men/women are quite literally attempting to bash passers by with their Bibles! Its all "God hates sinners" and "You are a sinner" and "God hates you" and "You're going to hell" - now correct me if Im wrong but didnt Jesus dine with prosetutes and tax collectors? Didnt he die for our sins?... not that im trying to get into a religious debate at this point, nor condoning prostitution etc... but I cant imagine God hating anyone for having a bit of fun now and then. I have to wonder if they ever have any "success" with their signs and shouting and practical stoning sessions, or indeed how the define "success".
Now naturally the police are around to ensure that while the debaucherie ensues nothing illegal occurs (such as drinking in the street, flashing, inapropriate public exposure etc). And I have never seen a picture which so perfectly sums up the NOPD as this one which I took on Canal St on Mardi Gras day - not only was he a tough guy smoking a cigar, he also drank cup after cup of coffee (no doughnuts or even beignet though) and spat huge gubers into the street! Oh and the best past was he would let people walk half way down the road so they were five steps from the nearest break in the barrier before shouting at them to turn around and go back where they came from "cos y'all cant come down here."
And Other News:
I was fortunate enough to have two fabulous friends D&G come and visit me for 3 weeks – they caught the end of Mardi Gras and the last of the terrible weather. But we had an amazing time together. Most of which included random nights out, occasionally leading to strip clubs on – you guessed it – Bourbon St. But we also heard some fabulous live music and ate some delectable delicacies.
Oh and D held my hand while I got a tattoo! Yes you read that right people – I GOT A TATTOO!! It is a fleur de lis on my foot – and I am still so in love with it I have to keep checking to make sure its real.
Of course there is much more to catch up on but this will have to do for now. Last week was so manic at work I did 25 hours over time, and I am now sick as a dog with a cough (why oh how did that saying come about – dogs aren’t generally sickly creatures).
