HALLELUJAH WHO DAT JESUS CHRIST FINISHED STRONG AMEN
31 - 17
SUPERBOWL CHAMPION SAINTS!
The clock wound down, and the city fucking ERUPTED in fireworks and honking car horns and screams and radios blaring "Halftime," and we headed downtown with the boys hanging out of the windows bellowing "WHO DAT!" and strangers bellowing it back at us, and we high-fived everyone and hugged strangers in black and gold wigs and boas and feathers, and we walked from Poydras to Frenchmen Street and everywhere you looked there were deliriously happy Saints fans of all colors and ages. Bourbon was packed, shoulder to shoulder and chest to back, press of bodies and grinning idiot joy everywhere. Cop cars screamed by, lights flashing, leaning on the horn, waving a black and gold jersey out the window. People with homemade banners led second lines down Royal Street, and from balconies and front porches Who Dats waved and jumped up and down and cat-called to passersby - oh my god oh my god can you fucking believe it we won the fucking SUPERBOWL, bitches!
And then I woke up this morning, hungover and worn out, and it wasn't a dream.
You did it, boys. We love you, and we are so, so grateful for the beautiful season you've given us.
SUPERBOWL CHAMPION SAINTS!
The clock wound down, and the city fucking ERUPTED in fireworks and honking car horns and screams and radios blaring "Halftime," and we headed downtown with the boys hanging out of the windows bellowing "WHO DAT!" and strangers bellowing it back at us, and we high-fived everyone and hugged strangers in black and gold wigs and boas and feathers, and we walked from Poydras to Frenchmen Street and everywhere you looked there were deliriously happy Saints fans of all colors and ages. Bourbon was packed, shoulder to shoulder and chest to back, press of bodies and grinning idiot joy everywhere. Cop cars screamed by, lights flashing, leaning on the horn, waving a black and gold jersey out the window. People with homemade banners led second lines down Royal Street, and from balconies and front porches Who Dats waved and jumped up and down and cat-called to passersby - oh my god oh my god can you fucking believe it we won the fucking SUPERBOWL, bitches!
And then I woke up this morning, hungover and worn out, and it wasn't a dream.
You did it, boys. We love you, and we are so, so grateful for the beautiful season you've given us.