I’ve covered countless NFL preseason games over the years. Most of them, I’ve long since forgotten.
But I’ll never forget the one I covered on Friday, Aug. 26, 2005.
The exhibition game between the Saints and Baltimore Ravens at the Superdome seemed just like any other. At the time, Hurricane Katrina was largely out of sight and out of mind. Few New Orleanians paid more than casual attention to the storm as it swept across south Florida earlier in the day.
As tropical storms go, it was relatively weak, a Category 1 with 75 m.p.h. winds. And while it had hammered Florida and killed nine people in the north Miami area less than 24 hours earlier, Katrina didn’t even merit a front-page story in Friday morning’s Times-Picayune.
Less than three days before the storm would make landfall, those of us covering the Ravens-Saints exhibition game were largely oblivious to the potential threat. My main focus was the Saints’ depth chart -- which players might play well enough to earn a final spot on the 53-man roster.
The only hint something might be awry came during a timeout in the third quarter when WVUE meteorologist Bob Breck delivered his regular forecast on the big screen and mentioned a strengthening storm in the Gulf of Mexico.
The forecast changed later that night. Tracking maps that initially predicted a northly path up the Florida peninsula forecast a landfall near the Mississippi-Louisiana coast. More ominous, the storm was strengthening, fueled by the unusually warm water in the Gulf.
The headline in the Saturday, Aug. 27 edition of the Times-Picayune warned, “Katrina puts end to lull; Storm’s westward path puts N.O. on edge.” A day later, the headline warned: “Katrina Takes Aim.”
Early Monday morning, all hell broke loose. Katrina slammed into the Mississippi Gulf Coast and life as we knew it changed forever.
The Saints, who had evacuated safely to San Jose, Calif., ahead of Katrina, were the furthest thing on anyone’s mind, including mine.
“Nationally, football wasn’t the discussion (at the time),” said Sean Payton, who was hired as the Saints head coach in January 2006. “The discussion was infrastructure -- and will it (New Orleans) be the same again. It certainly wasn’t football.”
Indeed, in the initial days and weeks after the storm, football was irrelevant. The Saints depth chart is hardly front of mind when you lack basic necessities like electricity and running water.
Gradually, though, as the city started to recover and people started to rebuild their lives, football and other entertainment options grew in importance. They were important coping mechanisms.
The storm’s tentacles reached into every aspect of daily life. Whether your house had 10 feet of water or escaped unscathed, living in New Orleans or the surrounding region was an emotionally, mentally and physically draining experience. You didn’t so much live as you endured.
Residents who suffered the worst damage — those who lost homes, jobs and/or loved ones — slogged through their daily nine-to-fives, then went home to clear debris, tear out drywall or haggle with insurance agents.
The basic civil services expected in modern America were sporadic or nonexistent. Trash pickup, electricity, sewer and water, and police protection operated with saddening inefficiency, or in some cases, not at all. Piles of debris remained on the curbs. Neutral grounds were uncut and overgrown with weeds.
The city’s health care and public transit systems were crippled. Nearly a year after the storm, only half of the hospitals in Orleans Parish had opened and there was a shortage of doctors, ambulances and hospital beds, creating nightmarish situations for the sick and injured and their loved ones.
Getting around was difficult. Many of the city’s streetlights were non-operational, making for harrowing, herky-jerky commutes through a maddening maze of four-way stops. Only 17% of the Regional Transit Authority’s buses were running, and 49% of its public transportation routes were open.
Everything, even mundane errands, was hard. Dry cleaners required a week’s turnaround time, and car repairs could take even longer. Banks constricted their hours, making for longer lines at the counter and drive-thru lanes. Lines at the few fast-food restaurants that were open often snaked around the block.
Amid this grim existence, football emerged as an escape, a salve for New Orleanians’ wounded psyches and spirits.
The Saints, who opened the season with low expectations, became a revelation. They won their first three games, including an emotional 23-3 beatdown of the Atlanta Falcons in the nationally televised home opener at the newly renovated Superdome. The Saints went on to win the NFC South Division and advance to their first NFC Championship Game in franchise history. It was a season for the ages, the stuff of fairytales.
"Everyone that ended up on that team that year ended up in something much bigger than we ever expected — like, much bigger," Payton said.
As a way of expressing thanks to the Saints for their magical campaign, Gov. Kathleen Blanco, launched a project called the “Thanks the Saints Initiative.” She asked fans to write personal thank-you notes to the team and started soliciting them on her office's website and via outreach in schools on the morning of the team’s final regular-season game Dec. 31, 2006.
Almost immediately, heartfelt testimonials began to pour in from all corners of the globe — from New Brunswick, Canada, and Maidstone, England, to Perth, Australia, and an aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean. More than 1,000 people wrote, including noteworthy Louisianans such as pianist Harry Connick Jr., journalist Cokie Roberts, Saints legend Archie Manning and saxophonist Branford Marsalis.
The passionate responses read like teenage love letters. It was impossible to read them and not feel the emotion expressed in the words and sentences.
Officials compiled the messages into a bound scrapbook and titled it "Louisiana Thanks Louisiana's Team." The 140 pages are filled with love, devotion and gratitude. It’s an enduring testament to the unique relationship New Orleans has with its football team.
“Thanks so much for an incredible season,” wrote Marsalis, expressing the sentiments of many Saints fans. “I’ve been there through thick and thin. And I’m loving thick!!!”
“The last 16 months have been hell, rebuilding our home,” wrote William Poche of Metairie. “This magical season has lifted our spirits and hopes.”
“We lost everything in the storm and we’re still in a FEMA trailer, but come game day we don our Saints gear and get ready for what has become one of the few things we can all get excited about,” Todd from Terrytown wrote. “God bless you boys! Without you, I do not know how my family and I could have made it through the year as we have.”
Early on, there were serious doubts New Orleans would ever recover. New Orleanians longed for their cherished cultural traditions and institutions. Fueled by civic pride, they bought fleur de lis merchandise like it was going out of stock and seized upon any reminder of the New Orleans they knew and loved. Mardi Gras. Jazz Fest. Commander’s Palace. The Times-Picayune. Angelo Brocato’s Ice Cream and Pastry Shop.
“Most New Orleanians just wanted to regain their way of life, and that was going to Jazz Fest, going to Mardi Gras, going to the Superdome every Sunday,” said Doug Thornton, who spearheaded the renovation of the Superdome. “They wanted to recapture what they’d lost.”
Saints football was one of those cherished traditions.
"Coach (Sean) Payton saw a destroyed city and knew that a winning football team could bring hope for our future and smiles to our weary faces," Debbie LaMarca of New Orleans wrote.
Payton had been in New Orleans for only a few months, but he quickly tapped into the unique connection the Saints had with the community. He knew the Dome-coming game would be special and wanted his team to be prepared for the moment.
So after the team’s practice at the Superdome on the Friday night before the big game, Payton introduced Thornton and two of his Superdome colleagues to the players and coaches to recognize their Herculean efforts in rebuilding the Superdome. He then dimmed the lights in the Dome and played a special video to set the tone. The montage showed powerful images of Hurricane Katrina and personal messages from fans, many of them storm victims.
“It was coach Payton letting us know before we played that it’s not just another prime-time Monday night game against your hated rival,” linebacker Scott Shanle said. “This was for something so much more. We have an opportunity to help people in more ways than just playing a football game.”
The prime-time demolition of the Falcons was an adrenaline shot to Saints fans and New Orleanians. The rest of the season was a magic carpet ride. The Saints lifted the city with their play. New Orleanians inspired the Saints with their ardent support.
“The New Orleans Saints needed our community, and the community needed the New Orleans Saints,” Brees said. “It was a match made in heaven that way.”
There weren’t many good things born from Hurricane Katrina. But the renewed vows it produced between the Saints and New Orleans certainly was one of them. The love affair has rarely waned since.
Football always has been important here. Along with crawfish, Mardi Gras and hunting, football is one of our four seasons. Throughout the fall, it dominates our thoughts, discourse and social calendars.
But football was never more important than it was after Katrina. There's a book of love letters to prove it.