1. No matter the outcome of the game, we can all agree on hating Roger Goodell.
2. Saints fans were out in droves. Even a homeless man in Jackson Square was calling for a black and gold victory by way of trap door, sword, and lightning.
3. I held up my end of the bargain and got incredibly drunk.
5. Even my dad thought I caused the power outage. I didn’t.
It’s More Than Football: Hell, it always is. I was in New Orleans for Super Bowl XLIV and had an amazing Lombardi Gras. That was my welcome to the city and, far larger than that, the biggest sign that we as humans can overcome anything.
For this year’s big game, the 49ers picked up where the Giants left off and continued to unite an entire city. SF has had a hell of a year for sports and though the Ravens beat us, we succeeded in helping to make an entertaining game for all to enjoy. Better luck next year, boys, but even if Jim Harbaugh goes on a crazy rampage and decides to put himself in as quarterback, I’m still damn proud.
Lights Out: What terrible thing do both my towns have in common? Power outages during important games. I’m sure y’all remember last year’s glorious ass-whipping of the Pittsburgh Steelers in which the 49ers held them to just a field goal, a feat that hadn’t been done in about a decade. What oddly aided us happened to be (mostly) PG&E’s bad, however, in which a full twenty minutes seemed to pass before power was restored. Sadly, the Superdome’s small moment of darkness did just about nothing for the 49ers and instead of the world blaming a shoddy power company for the problem, a majority of outside comments were directed at New Orleans’ future and sustainability. This double-edged sword reeks of bullshit when compared to SF’s outage at Candlestick.
Moneymaker?: New Orleans kept that love-hate thing going all Super Bowl long. For as many service industry folks who lost business thanks to a condensed and awkwardly stretched Carnival season engulfing the NFL like a hungry protozoa, there were just as many folks bemoaning the freakish amount of work they were getting. Chalk it up to timing and greed, really. A lunar calendar may change but you’d be hard pressed to move the moon’s cycles. In contrast, the NFL’s grand spectacle is a roving road show of football and sponsors. Plan better, New Orleans, and take a lesson from Lil Wayne: don’t let the money get in the way and obscure your vision.
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