Who Dat!

I'm pretty sure this guy could run for mayor and win no problem.

Last night was memorable. Whenever the Atlanta Falcons and the New Orleans Saints butt heads it is a big event. However, last night was something special. With the Saints being 2-0 coming into their first game back in the dome, the crowd was electric. I was supposed to be at the game until my ticket fell through earlier in the week. And I must say, U2 in the pre-game and the roar of the crowd after a Steve Gleason blocked punt were enough to make me wish I was standing next to one of the many Saints fans dressed in their “nothing having to do with” football gear. Only at a Saints game will you find fans dressing as a black and gold Moses, black and gold Nuns, and black and gold Indians. I would have to say surprisingly, alcohol was involved. My uncle Steve who attended the game told me "I have been to a lot of games in the superdome, national championships, Sugar Bowls, Saints games, but I have never heard the place like that. It was wild."

Something is different about the Saints this year. Oh yea, no more Aaron Brooks. The usual late game collapses,125 yards in penalties, and phantom fumbles have been next to absent. Instead, the Saints are looking like an real life professional football team. By no means am I making any predictions, but last night made me smile. Even more so, it made me laugh. The post-game show was winding up well after the game, and even above Michael Irvin’s screaming voice you could hear a steady chant in the background “Who Dat, Who Dat, Who Dat say gonna beat them Saints.” The camera panned to the crowd only to center on and inebriated fully painted Saints fan, leaning over the railing, throwing out a “hook ‘em horns” and showing no signs of slowing down in his “Who Dat Chant.” Twas a beautiful night in New Orleans. I’m confident quite a few people are calling in “sick” today for work in the Big Easy.

On a final note, I am officially more excited about Saints football than the likes of Ole Miss football. Listening to Wake Forest line up and run it down our throats was the final straw. Actually, I take that back, the final straw was realizing that Brent Shaeffer was simply Aaron Brooks II. Onward Saints.