I am first and foremost a baseball fan. I say that because it will explain how superstitious I am and why we insisted on staying home for the Saints Conference Championship game. We've been home for every win. Baseball players and fans are notoriously superstitious (in case you didn't know). But just try and imagine how much that team means to the people of this city, there are plenty of articles out there that try and explain it. The Friday before the game, the only thing they played on the radio was Saints songs and you had to watch the national news to hear about anything other than the game. "Go Saints" and "Who Dat" became synonymous with "hello" and "goodbye". Literally. All I can say is, it was an amazing night. I'm glad that we went out after the game. Even though my stomach continues to pay the price for it. It was a historic season. A historic win. And we were there.We were here.
Here are some horrible, blurry cell pics for you.
This is getting off the ferry.
Fans from the other side climbed the separation fence and well...you get the idea.
This is Canal Street. Mind you, this is 11:00 pm on a Sunday night. And try to imagine the sheer noise from almost every single one of these cars honking and the passengers whooping and hollering.
This is about when we stopped taking coherent photos.
Not sure if Stef is trying to stab her eye out or what...
To our bartenders, did we pay you?To all of you we called and texted all night long, sorry.
Sort of....
