Massive devastation in New Orleans. Katrina? No, if the Saints lose.
I’m not too proud to admit that I cried watching the Saints enter the Superdome the night of their first game there. Perhaps it was post-Katrina syndrome, allowing myself to cry for what I and we lost those days. For the ravaged city and people and places. For our having moved three hours away from what we used to call home. For a city that continues to struggle. But that night belonged to New Orleans. To survivors. To all of us who once wore bags over our heads at football games who dared to believe that those young men running out on the field could somehow make something right again. It was as if a year of emotions poured out of the stands and into the souls of that team. We wanted someone to win against the odds.
Okay, Buddy Diliberto. You’ve got God’s ear now. And we’re expecting a second line like heaven’s never seen before.