On my first trip to New Orleans, in the early ’90s, I sat at the Cafe Du Monde sipping cafe au lait and listening to an old jazz trumpeter accompany himself on “When the Saints Win the Super Bowl” (to the tune of “When the Saints Go Marching In,” of course). It was played for humor – the Saints had a decent team at that point (the mighty Wikipedia tells me they made the playoffs in 1990, and won their first division title in 1991), but it was still clear that this man didn’t expect his beloved team to take home the big trophy anytime soon.
I watched the game tonight with a bunch of geeks and bellydancers, at the home of a New Orleans expat, and I kept hearing that old man sing. Wherever he is, I sure hope he saw every play.
I’m sure he is, Chia, I’m sure he is. What a lovely image. New Orleans is my Honeymoon location so it always holds a special place in my heart.
Also, thanks for stopping by and sharing the love!