Scott Fujita - The King is Dead, Long Live the King

It is with some sadness that I have to inform you that Scott Fujita has left the Saints to join the hapless Cleveland Browns... (cue LP scratching off turntable/People turning round with looks of disdain).  OK so I'm a little late writing up the news these days, in fact a lot late, so sue me why don't you.  I've got to earn a living after all.  But I just wanted to add my two cents to the Scott Fujita tribute archive whilst we are still in the official period of mourning.

You see the Saints LB was not only a supreme team player but also a great guy as witnessed by his generous donations to the coastal improvements fund.  He's the kind of guy every locker room should have and the Cleveland Browns will be well served with him in their team.

It also underlines the fragility of our attachment to Saints players.  Over the years I have been pained to see players I love and respect leave town for adventures new only to see them excel elsewhere and leave me crying into my giant Saints foam hand.

'Why Pat Swilling?  Why oh why do you have to leave us?' I cried at the age of 16.  'First Ricky Jackson leaves and now you?  I will never again enjoy watching QB's being torn limb from limb in such numbers'.

That was the first real period of mourning I had in my Saints life.  It was tough going.  Friends would drop by the house.  I would hear my mum let them in and offer a cautionary 'don't mention the Dome Patrol' warning to them.  They would come into my room and make polite conversation, offer to open the curtains maybe and then retreat as my cold hard stare froze their will to live in their tracks.  I was inconsolable, I was a wreck, I was 16.

Days would pass, I would slumber in bed sometimes listening to In Utero sometimes not.  Always thinking about Pat and Ricky tearing in from the edge, knowing I would never again see fear in Joe Montana's eyes.  Over time the freakish devotion to the Dome Patrol and the Saints would make way for girls, bad haircuts and rebellion but always the pain would linger.

That is why I say to all adolescents out there (and Michelle at Saints Rants for I know you must be hurting) you have to let go.  I know it hurts but Scott is going to a new life now.  He will always have a place in our hearts and will not be forgotten but you have to open the curtains again and let the light in, turn off In Utero (or whatever the teenage angst album of choice is these days) and go forth and prepare for the draft.

It will be OK and maybe one day, like all good ex-Saints players, he will return to the fold in some management capacity and once again infuse a bit of that Scott Fujita magic back into the organization.  In the meantime blessed be you on your journey Scott - the King is Dead, Long Live the King!

Saints Super Bowl Party

With just hours to go until the greatest night of the Who Dat Nations collective lives and I am as excited as a kid in a candy store who's been told every day is Christmas and he never need go to school again... and his house is made of jelly and his team, the Saints, are about to win their first ever Super Bowl.  In a word I am excitelingly-fantasmically-prepersezedly-my-lord-hallelujahlarly-out-of-this-World -fired-up for tonight,  None of that made sense but you catch the drift.

It's been such a long road to get to this point that I can't quite believe this is finally Super Sunday with the Saints in the big game.  All those years of heartache and worry, all the years of holding our heads in our collective hands, all those years of being the laughing stock of the league have all been worth it to get to this point.

I don't think we would be this excited if we hadn't been through so much.  So to the class of Hobby Brenner, Bobby Hebert, Rueben Mayes, Dalton Hilliard, Wayne Martin, Pat Swilling, Rickey Jackson, Sam Mills, Vaughn Johnson, Morten Anderson, Craig Hayward, Eric Martin, Frank Warren, Dave Waymer and co. through my early childhood class of Earl Campbell, George Rodgers, Jeff Groff, Richard Todd and Dave Wilson (my first Saints shirt and first experience of people laughing at my team) right through to the teams of Brooks, Horn, Smith, Cleeland, Stallworth, and every other Saints player who has busted a gut for the team before or since, now is our time, today is our day of destiny, today is our payback!

Big love to the Who Dat Nation and all who have ridden the waves to get to this point.  May our collective will ensure a happy ending to this dream season.  Our team has the talent, the desire and the ability to get it done.  Now it's time to tune in, drink some beer and shout until our voices go hoarse!