When 43 years of frustration disappeared into the thick Bourbon Street breeze, the greatest party in the world raged. The New Orleans Saints -- yes, those Saints of paper-bag and public infamy of old -- will leave south Florida a Super Bowl champion for the first time in their history.
What awaits them during a Super Bowl parade on Tuesday through these streets will surely rival the jubilation that exploded from the French Quarter on Sunday.
"This is so awesome," said Darlene Milliet, as she hugged her sister, Cindy Lasiter, both of them crying in the French Quarter. "I can't believe it!"
Late in the fourth quarter, Tracy Porter slipped in front of a Peyton Manning pass, picked it off and bolted 74 yards for a touchdown. On Iberville Street, in Chateau Bourbon's Clock Bar, men kissed women. Beers were raised. Around the corner, on Bourbon Street, policemen on horseback high-fived joyous faces below. A young man raced through an intersection with his cell phone.
"Oh, my God!" he screamed. "Oh, my God!"
Later, confetti was poured from the top of a Bourbon Street balcony. Fireworks exploded. Inside a pizza-by-the-slice shop, patrons packed around the television and chanted the Saints' rallying cry: "Who dat! Who dat! Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints!"
The greatest party in the world raged. (Sorry, Miami.) And life here, for one magical day, was good.
Source : http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?id=4896305
What awaits them during a Super Bowl parade on Tuesday through these streets will surely rival the jubilation that exploded from the French Quarter on Sunday.
"This is so awesome," said Darlene Milliet, as she hugged her sister, Cindy Lasiter, both of them crying in the French Quarter. "I can't believe it!"
Late in the fourth quarter, Tracy Porter slipped in front of a Peyton Manning pass, picked it off and bolted 74 yards for a touchdown. On Iberville Street, in Chateau Bourbon's Clock Bar, men kissed women. Beers were raised. Around the corner, on Bourbon Street, policemen on horseback high-fived joyous faces below. A young man raced through an intersection with his cell phone.
"Oh, my God!" he screamed. "Oh, my God!"
Later, confetti was poured from the top of a Bourbon Street balcony. Fireworks exploded. Inside a pizza-by-the-slice shop, patrons packed around the television and chanted the Saints' rallying cry: "Who dat! Who dat! Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints!"
The greatest party in the world raged. (Sorry, Miami.) And life here, for one magical day, was good.
Source : http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?id=4896305
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