Still My Saints

Sunday, December 14, 1980 ... Coming off a thrilling defeat at SanFrancisco to go 0-14, I had high hopes for my New Orleans Saints as they headed into New York to face the Jets.  It had been a long year, the year of the "Aints" bags and a ten year old boy had no logical reason to hope for a win.  Indeed, many would say I had no reason to even want to watch the game.  But I HAD to.

I HAD to watch the game because the Saints and I were intertwined.  We were one.  Just as the military uses boot camp to break down recruits so as to bond them together as a stronger, single fighting unit, the Saints and I had been broken down and bound together in 1980.  We, and I do mean we, were the laughing stocks that year.  I wore my Saints jerseys and carried my Saints football cards to school, and was persecuted like Frankenstein's monster for doing so, but I didn't mind.

Even my dad, a bigger Saints fan than me, had begun to find other things to do on Sunday afternoons.  I would sit watching each and every miserable play of each and every miserable game, hoping ... hoping ... hoping.  And each and every Sunday we would find a way to lose.  But my dad would always stroll through the den to get an update on the game.  You see, he was like me, Black and Gold was in his blood.  He had just learned to hide it a little better.  After all, what kind of fool kept coming back each week to cheer for a team that lost EVERY game?  I did.

The game was surprisingly close.  As the end of the game drew near I allowed myself to dream, to hope that we would get the win.  I didn't want to have a winless season.  I thought that at least one win would make it seem not as bad in the history books (but it was still bad).  And then, WE WON WE WON WE WON!!!!  We pulled the win out against the Jets! I remember running outside in the front yard, yelling for my dad.  We Won!  At 10 years old, it felt like we had won the Superbowl! Ecstasy at 1-14!!!

So what did the Saints do the following year to improve?  Well naturally we got the Jets quarterback.  Obviously the missing link for our success was the one quarterback we were able to beat in the 1-15 season. Ugh.  But I watched all the 1981 games too ... yelling, hoping, praying.  And 30 years later, as Hartley's 40 yard field goal flew through the uprights to put us in the Superbowl, all those hopes, cheers, and prayers were answered.

So.  I will always be a Saints fan.  Win, lose or draw, that's my team.  Who dat say dey gone luv dem Saints?  Me dat.