Yesterday’s loss was met with disbelief and tears. Yes. Tears. I cried like a baby when Vernon Davis caught the game winning TD. My phone rang immediately. My cousin in Louisiana was on the phone in tears as well. She said she didn't want to leave her house. I didn't leave mine, still havent.
With a family from New Orleans, it is only natural that I’m a Saints fan. The unnatural part about it? How I turn into a completely different person during the games. I’m a carefree person…usually. During a Saints game I a yelling, screaming, jumping MANIAC. Win or lose I’m going crazy. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and proclaiming the Saints the greatest team on turf. I cheered for the Saints when they were losing for years and I cheer when they win. I prefer the latter to the former however.
I woke up super early yesterday and got dressed in my black and gold. I’ve worn the same t-shirt on game day for the past 3 seasons. It’s faded but feels so comfortable that I feel strange when a game is on and I’m not wearing it. All this rambling is basically just therapy and is helping me cope with the fact that my beloved black and gold clad Saints post season hopes of another Super Bowl are over.
All hope is not lost, there’s always next season. I know this but it still feels weird. For months my Sunday’s (and occasional Monday nights) are spent watching Saints football that I don’t know what to do with myself once the season ends.
I woke up at about 4am and just began crying. Well at least the Golden Globes are tonight and the only thing outside of my family that can compare to Saints football is red carpet couture.'Til next time
