Ever think you’d live to see the day? (2/8)
Posted February 8, 2010 at 1:39 am
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MIAMI — Good gosh, this is going to take some getting used to.
You probably woke up this morning — assuming you bothered to go to bed — figuring it was some silly dream, a practical joke.
I’m here, over strong coffee, to clear out the cobwebs to tell you I saw it with my own disbelieving eyeballs and it’s 100 percent, black-and-gold true.
Parts of it may still be a little fuzzy.
Hell may have icicles as cold as the ice water running through Sean Payton’s veins, and the sun may have risen from the west and — who knows? —those piggies with wings must be flying around the moon by now.
But the Saints …
The Saints are …
Saints are …
Super Bowl champions of the entire Who Dat World.
You didn’t imagine it and don’t let anybody tell you any different.
Saints 31, Colts 17.
Burn your bags and promise you ain’t never gonna say Aint no more.
It was more of a white-knuckler than the score indicated, but who cares? America is now the Who Dat nation and will learn soon enough how to second-line to Esplanade and back.
I understand they’re planning a parade for Tuesday, one that might just retire the trophy.
You just thought it couldn’t get any better than BEING in the Super Bowl.
Winning it?
Who’d have ever, ever thunk it?
Imagine the poor expatriate Who Dat wandering in from 20 years on a deserted island somewhere to find the fleur-de-lis slab-dab next to the Lombardi Trophy, Roman numerals and all.
He might swim back.
It happened in our lifetime, it was no fluke, and the team with no defense just whacked its third straight future Hall of Fame quarterback. If the unstoppable, unflappable Peyton Manning happened to be a favorite son, well, no hard feelings.
Drew Brees will be inaugurated governor any day now.
If he can beat Tracy Porter in the run-off, which no Colts could.
So how’d it happen?
Sheesh, where to start?
Drew Brees! Drew Brees!
MVP. MVP.
After the Saints got off to a jittery start and fell behind 10-0, Brees merely trotted out and, from that point on, completed a misprint-looking 29 of 32 passes for 261 yards and two touchdowns.
It didn’t feel like it, but the Saints outscored the Colts 31-7 after digging the obligatory hole.
“Drew’s performance is definitely one for the ages,” said receiver Marques Colston.
But, I’m telling you, that didn’t win the game.
“Our head coach is unbelievable,” Brees said. “So aggressive.”
The key to the whole thing was probably the second-half kickoff, which only proved again that Payton has a set of something or another really big. Guts, I guess.
He was in his first Super Bowl and, until Sunday, no other coach had dared to try an onside kick before the fourth quarter.
Didn’t stop Payton.
Payton used to pull those kind of shenanigans all the time, willy-nilly, but had toned down the tomfoolery this season with a team that didn’t often need them and occasionally even played by the book.
They needed it this time. Big time.
With Brees warming up and Manning being Peyton, the second half was shaping up to be the back-and-forth track meet that had been advertised for two weeks and the Saints, already down 10-6, hadn’t really slowed Manning down much.
Unfortunately, they had to kick off after the three-day halftime show and you could just see Manning licking his chops over there, ready to stretch that lead back to double digits and put the Saints in desperation mode.
That’s when Payton looked the other way and slipped them the old hot foot.
“We knew we were going to call it at some point,” Payton said, as if it was a juicy part of the game plan he couldn’t resist. “We practiced it all week. At halftime I told them it was going to be a great play.”
So the Saints were in on the scam and pulled it off the con perfectly.
“Our guys did a great job of showing normal kickoff coverage,” Payton said.
They also did a pretty fair job, somebody named Chris Reis in particular, of recovering the thing when it doinked off an unsuspecting Colt.
A few plays later Brees got a short pass into Pierre Thomas’ hands for a touchdown, the Saints got their first lead, 13-10, and, well, the game was on.
It gave the Saints control of a game that Manning, to that point, didn’t look to have any intention of releasing.
Not that it was over or anything.
You could almost see Manning yawn at the unexpected development, and he quickly drove the Colts to another lead and, before long, there came the realization that whoever happened to have the ball last was probably going to win.
The Saints got a field goal and then a five-point lead that, upon further review, ballooned to an all-important seven-point lead while everybody was watching a Doritos commercial when a failed 2-point attempt looked good enough to keep.
Overtime, for sure, you’re thinking. Look at Manning over there, ready to do his thing against an outmatched defense.
But the play that taught all of the converts in South Florida to Who Dat shouldn’t have been a surprise, even if Manning rarely blinks in such a situation.
The Saints defense has been pulling this stuff all year. They were overdue in this game, and when Porter jumped on a Manning pass, Sun Life Stadium, or whatever it’s called this week, absolutely came unglued.
The Who Dat sound waves from Bourbon Street to Miami probably met up somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico about the time Porter, the pride of Port Allen, was pointing his own way to the end zone on a 74-yard interception return and the game-clinching touchdown.
Yeah, it happened. You didn’t dream it.
Let the Who-datting begin.
Scooter Hobbs covers LSU athletics. E-mail him at shobbs@americanpress.com.
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On a day like this, you just gotta read Scooter, because you KNOW he will sum up what the fans are feeling.
I’m a 30 year Saints fan. You stated it perfectly.It’s still sinking in. After all the heartbreaks, it’s hard to believe we did it.
My 3 grown daughters have never cared a lick about football, but they became Saints fans this year.
Thanks, Scooter, for all your great writing through all the years.
Excellent piece! For 35 years I have followed the Saints on-and-off (after adopting them as a kid in early-70’s Miami) … to really hear those words, “The Saints are … “, well, they really *do* stick in your throat, it seems so unbelievable. Believe dat! Oh happy day, let the bon ton roulet.