I could write about how many homes could have been rebuilt with 200 million dollars but I won’t do that today. I’m sure I’ll get to those thoughts at some point but today is for glory.

My brother came up from Baton Rouge yesterday to participate in the big event. I can’t think of anyone I would have wanted to be there with than him. He has a wife and three kids plus a wacko brother. If I could be half the man he is than I’ll be good to go.

We walked from the northern part of the quarter to the Dome preparing ourselves for the game. With Saints fans roaming the quarter, the city felt alive to me for the first time since Mardi Gras. It might be different for you, but for me, it’s been a rough 6 months between positive signs.

The mass number of people outside the Dome was unreal. I’ve been to Super Bowls and Sugar Bowls in this city and none of those had the feel of this one. This was different. It was not about the actual game, it was about this city and it’s people.

We decided to get inside as quick as possible. It wasn’t very quick but we we’re inside the Dome by 6:30. Our tickets were in the club section so we were able to get a view of all things Superdome per se.

What a job the restoration company has done. The Superdome has NEVER looked better. Right after Katrina, I was in favor of imploading the place and starting over. Or just not doing anything other than tearing the Dome down. I didn’t care if the Saints came back or if they played their games on the moon at that point. But I’m a grown man and can certainly admit when I’m wrong. And I was wrong on that thought.

I worried that when I actually went inside, the pain from 13 months ago would overwhelm me and I’d get freaked out. Well I got overwhelmed but not by the pain of the past or memories of other’s pain. I was overwhelmed by people. The joy and exctasy was there when you walked inside.

The waterworks did flow and I did not try to stop them. And I wasn’t the only one. It hit me before the game, sitting in my new chair, looking at the people around us and they just started flowing. The lady next to me cried from the pre-game till they left with about a minute left to play. The families around us, men and women, were teary-eyed for the start as well.

I’ve never been to a sporting event that was this loud. I’ve covered Stanley Cup finals (Hockey for the non-sporties), NBA Playoffs, Baseball playoffs, NFL playoff games and at no event have I ever heard a stadium as loud as the Dome was last night. And it never let up. It was as loud in there at the start of the fourth quarter as it was when the Saints ran onto the field. I couldn’t hear myself screaming it was that powerful.

When Steve Gleason ran through the line and blocked that punt a minute and a half into the game, I thought the world would end right there. But thank God it didn’t. The group hug that about 50 people had in section 346 was as therapeutic as anything I’ve ever been involved in. I didn’t know who the hell I was hugging, male or female, but I didn’t care and it sure felt good. No one else cared either. We were there. We were home. And we loved each other for all the pain we have had in the last 13 months.

As the game was winding down, I leaned over to my brother and told him that for the first time in almost 13 months, I felt like a New Orleanian again. Our problems aren’t solved but for one glorious night, all was fine in New Orleans.

Related posts:

1. Mardi Gras in September
2. The other game at the Dome
3. Weirdass
4. T’was the Night Before Christmas
5. Who Let the Blogs Out?