Game Night

The night of the Saints' NFC championship victory was my first glimpse of this city really going nuts. I hope to get another glimpse in eight days, when they're in the Super Bowl. But the game was very, very close, for those of you who didn't catch it, and the tension that had been building for several hours released into a frenzy of excitement. I watched the game in my house, and as soon as it ended I enjoyed the distant noises of celebration as they floated on the night air. Any attempts to dial out on a cell phone, of which I made several, were met with a busy signal--after trying several different numbers, I discovered that it was my end that was busy. Taking that as a sign that I ought to get out of the house and see things for myself, I walked to the closest bar, which was packed full of Saints jerseys, and joined in several rounds of "Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say they gonna beat them Saints?" followed by "The Saints Go Marching In." After giving out several bearhugs to happy fans (sorry, Chicago habit--Saintshugs), I walked back to my apartment, whooping at the cars that went by honking. I tried calling out again, and still there was no possibility of that.
So I took more drastic action. I decided to get on my bike and at least ride by several other bars, to observe the festivities--but first I had to find Saints colors to wear. I don't own a jersey, but I own a shirt that is roughly Saints-gold, so I threw that on and headed out. I wound up riding all the way to the French Quarter. It was of course very busy there, and Bourbon Street was crowded with black and gold. Traffic was backed up all around the Quarter, but a skinny guy on a bike might have easily maneuvered through it.
It does not quite suffice to say, "Everyone was drinking in celebration," but it's pretty close. The cry of "Who dat?!" was the common salute, followed perhaps by "Super Bowl!" and other affirmations.
After seeing my fill, I rode home again, cutting off the congestion by taking several streets which were under construction. The phone lines were finally freed, although honking and yelling continued for most of the next two hours on St. Charles.
If they win the Big Game on the 7th, I don't know what will happen here. But I'll tell you all about it. after I recover!