the saints are back

This is an incredibly long post that takes 3 days to read and I typed it cause I'm too tired to hand write this all in my journal.

Yesterday I found myself standing in a crowd of New Orleaners, the closest thing I think I'll ever experience to Mardi Gras. We were packed tight outside the Superdome. The people (not just the megafans) were all dressed in gold, black, and white. The skyscraper hotels surrounded us and the Superdome hovered over us and the Goo Goo Dolls sang an oddly fitting tonight's the night the world begins again... The sky was so clear for a New Orleans afternoon and planes flew by with advertisements. The crowd was so noisy, everyone chit chatting and cheering when the camaras flew over our heads. Ok, I'm not a New Orleaner, but in the past few months, I've grown attached. And I have to admit it was kind of emotional. It felt like a giant family reunion, people were meeting up with people and acting like they hadn't seen them for a year, and I think they might not have. Everyone was so extatic, waiting for the big sheet to drop from the front entry and the dome to officially reopen, like we were waiting for Christmas morning. It was so contagious. Even the Falcons fans were wild. And they were just chitchatting away with the Saints fans. Everyone was family. It truly was one of the greatest feelings. And I know I'm painting this scene all pretty and I'm not going into detail about the skyscraper office building to our right still vacant with the windows still blown out. And I wasn't forgetting good old St. Bernard where I spent a couple months... which is still mostly unlivable. I'm still on a high from the night the world saw New Orleans begin again.

Got up around 5:30 yesterday morning to get to the Good Morning America show. I was always one of those Today show people so I didn't really know who Robin Roberts was except for that I recognized her. We got to hang out with her for a couple hours. She is originally from the gulf and her home was also damaged in Katrina. She really seemed to be an amazing lady and she was hilarious... alittle too spunky for 6 am. She said goodmorning and introduced us to America. We stood there and smiled. It was pretty cool to watch the news going on in New York and then it would flip to us and hey, I'm on national television!

We hung out awhile on the field. People took naps and read. I just laid there and looked around, in shock. The Goo Goo Dolls walked past me. Important ESPN hosts I don't know walked past me. And word was that daddy George Bush was in the house somewhere. Woody Paige (who I also don't know) asked us to come over while he was making a fool of himself on ESPN. We just stood there and cheered whenever he'd turn around and tell us to cheer.

We practiced the pre-game show one last time and watched U2 and Greenday perform in our private little venue for the 6th time or so. I was still in major shock.

I went and sat on the player's benches on the sideline. Soon, a few men began doing laps around the field. We learned that these were the head coach and assistant coaches of the Falcons. And then the Saints players came out and practiced. I sat on their team bench and just a few feet down sat a sweaty, stinky professional football player. And Reggie Bush, who everyone thinks is God, sprinted by. More famous retired football players began standing around and the guys in our group began drooling. I began to assume anyone not in an Americorps uniform or carrying a camara was famous.

My friend Cara and I went to go stand in the mass of people to watch the concerts outside. We met Mr. Clean on the way back and got free tshirts. Could this day get any better?

Got inside just in time for the countdown to the official oppening. Everybody inside the dome paused from the work to watch the clock tick down and we all cheered like New Years and watched the big screen as confetti came down on all the people outside and a giant sheet dropped from the entryway welcoming everyone home. A military procession led the way through the doors and soon they were coming down to the field. They all stopped where we were standing and for a minute I felt like we were all in this together. Americorps was all standing in a line in respect and I realized some of us were wearing the same BDU pants... police, coast guard, army, marines, firemen whatever else... except when Governor Kathleen Blanco walked right by us and greeted all of them, my ego was shot just alittle. I don't know if she noticed the sea of grey standing just behind her, those people who have also been in her state, voluntarily, this entire time.

Before we knew it, it was show time. We gathered in the tunnel next to our pieces of the stage. I heard a bunch of commotion and people yelling to clear the way. I jumped to the side and some important men in suits pushed by me. And there he was... George HW Bush himself... The kid next to me quickly handed me his camara and told me to take a picture of him and Bush. I forgot to. Instead, I saw my right hand reach out and touch his jacket. It did it on its own. Instead of going in for a nice friendly handshake, I feel like I accosted our ex-president. I don't even remember his face. All I remember is how soft his blue jacket felt... like felt. I'm glad his little secret service guys didn't have an issue with me feeling him.

I got back to my position and decided to make small talk with one of the roadies, the one I thought was the Edge when I first saw him but then realized looked nothing like him. His name was Stewart Morgan. He was such a friendly guy. He told me he's been with U2 since 92 and was with Sinead (sp?) Oconner and some other huge bands before that. He spoke with a beautiful Irish accent and I got a kick out of this other guy who asked where he was from and then proceeded to ask, "so how long have you been in the states?" as if a major music group could not possibly still be making it big and keeping their roots in anything but the US. Stewart replied, "two days, actually." It turns out Stewart is somewhat of a legend because he is the only person to ever perform as a part of U2 and not be one of the original 4. There was one show where the bassist was hungover and Stewart had to fill in.

Our conversation was cutoff because it was go time. We quickly pushed those carts onto the field and I stepped back and looked up. Thousands of people were looking down on us. I stood in the middle of the fleur de li (however you spell it) symbol in the middle of the field and spun in a circle. The only chance I'll ever get to feel that kind of rush. Then I quickly found my position in front of the stage and enjoyed an incredible show with U2, Greenday, and the local band Rebirth blasting on us from all sides. Bono spit on me. Billie Joe threw his pick at us and almost hit me and I couldn't crouch down to pick it up off the ground before someone else pushed their way in. It was wild. Unbelievable.

After the show, we grabbed our spots and pushed the stage to the side as the Saints ran out of their tunnel. I stood just off to the side and watched as they ran past me. Then, it was over. I looked around one last time and then helped rush the stage back into the tunnel and out the doors of the Superdome.

We parked them next door in the arena and were told the gates were now closed to us. Find another way to watch the game. I saw some of my teammates and we began running straight back toward the door we came out of. We flashed our badges at suspicious faces but otherwise just looked like we knew exactly what we were doing.

Security, we just casually walked through. Though our badges said pre-game field crew only, they didn't notice. We took a quick turn down a back hallway where someone had scouted out earlier and found a stairway to the stands. We began stripping off our Americorps tshirts and had normal clothes underneath. And as I was doing this, a golf cart comes around the corner. It's daddy Bush again and he's whizzing past us as we're sneaking into a professional football game. We saluted him and I fluttered my fingers in an I'm so innocent sort of way. He smiled and waved. Wow, what tight security with a president right there…

We were told by some cops a few times to move from our standing positions because we couldn't find a single open seat in the house. We prepared our stories for why we didn’t have tickets. My job was just to smile and nod because I can’t lie. But then I realized this whole event was a lie, I just didn’t have to speak it. I felt alittle guilty. We moved around most of the first half and eventually found a spot for all the other people who snuck in. Everyone was so drunk and wild and the cops walked by at one point with a man in handcuffs and I figured that was my sign to get out of there, but everyone else stayed and I figured if they caught us, atleast I'd be a part of a fun mini riot. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I'm too innocent for this kind of stuff.

But, it was worth it. The game was incredible and the Saints won it, I believe fair and square. People will talk about it being rigged. I bet they weren't there. People will talk about the team being stacked full of handpicked people. I know nothing about football but what I saw was a team that belongs to an incredible city and no matter who they are, they were heroes to this town last night. It was so much more than just a football game and people might not agree, but the feel in this city says otherwise.