No one outside the city of New Orleans understands what it means to be a lifelong member of Who Dat Nation. Tourists flock from around the world, visiting the city in Louisiana everywhere from Australia to London, from California to New York. There is an invisible magnetic pull to bring people back.
Louisiana is the Black and Gold State of Mind
Always Coming Back
Sure, the food is the best in the world—That’s not up for debate. Furthermore, the allure of being part of the biggest free party is intoxicating. And the music here transforms many. Some of the music on the corner of the street surpasses the best concerts across the country.
Still, the myriads of stories miss the true heartbeat of the city. As nice as the historical architecture is, and the mysterious tales of voodoo priests are, the magnetic attraction to this hallow ground lies within the locals.
People’s spirit here sucks you in. The spirit is not something one can capture in a picture or even a video. The homemade concoction of mismatched dysfunctional generations of people combine to make a savory cocktail of irresistible character.
These cast of characters are all bonded in some weird mix of family friendliness you simply can’t buy. It’s not for sale. No, this family was built to last. And on Sundays, the cast of characters arrive at one sacred place. The place called “dome.”
Everything from my childhood is related to a part of New Orleans Saints history. The first time the Saints went to the playoffs happened to be the same year I had my first date. Of course, the playoff run meant more to me and lasted longer. The salutatorian dumped me after a month.
History Cannot Exist Without Black and Gold
When my parents opened up their first restaurant in the early 80’s, Archie Manning signed a blowup “black and white” picture autographed. That was my first. To have countless memories with family and friends transfers the black and gold bloodline to you like it or not. Win or lose, the bond is unbreakable for the New Orleans Saints. Not to mention, winning didn’t exist for a long, long time back in the day.
Coaching legends came and went. From Bum Phillips, Hank Stram, and even a short stint from Wade Phillips. Also, players came here with little left in the tank being legendary in their own right. Ken Stabler and Earl Campbell basically died here as far as their football careers. Be that as it may, the painful experiences made the last 10-15 years worth it.
We Somehow Make our way Back
Last week, ESPN televised the first game back in the dome after Hurricane Katrina ravaged the city. The game birthed a legend. Statues came from heroes that day. Hall of Famers just starting their career became born. Nonetheless, Who Dat Nation gathered in their homes watching the single most built-up game in Saints history.
Some would say, the Katrina game meant more than the Super Bowl. Perhaps. Either way, our simmering pot of mixed backgrounds understood the magnitude of the moment. Moments in time bringing the city together in now uncertain times. Take our nightlife. Take our festivals, Second-lines and our funny accents. Not gonna matter. No one takes the spirit of “The Boot.” We keep on walking, crawling on our hands and knees never wavering. We just keep moving. And one day, the city will dance away the night. Our state of mind is undeniably the infinite spirit of an adult playground. We play hard and push each other.
Main Photo:
Embed from Getty Images
