http://www.nola.com/saints/index.ssf/2010/02/dear_miami.html
<h1>Dear Miami: Get ready for the Who Dat Nation coming for the Super Bowl</h1><h4>
By Mark Lorando, The Times-Picayune
</h4><h5>February 01, 2010, 2:06PM</h5><span style="display: inline;" class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-photo"><span class="photo-breakout photo-right medium">
<span class="byline">Scott Threlkeld / The Times-Picayune</span><span class="caption">Saints fans celebrate the overtime win for the NFC Championship on Jan. 24 -- and the chance to go to Miami. </span></span></span>
Dear Miami,</p>
The Saints are coming. And so are we, their loyal, long-suffering and slightly discombobulated Super Bowl-bound fans.
While
there's still time to prepare -- although a few hard-core Who Dats will
begin trickling in Monday, most of us won't arrive until Thursday or
Friday -- we thought we'd give you a heads-up about what you should
expect.
First things first: You need more beer.
Yeah, we
know. You ordered extra. You think you have more than any group of
humans could possibly consume in one week. Trust us. You don't.
New
Orleans was a drinking town long before the Saints drove us to drink.
But it turns out beer tastes better when you're winning. (Who knew?) So
let's just say we're thirsty for more than a championship; adjust your
stockpiles accordingly.
And look. When we ask you for a
go-cup, be nice to us. We don't even know what "open container law"
means. Is that anything like "last call"?
It's Carnival season
in New Orleans (that's Mardi Gras to you), and we'll be taking the
celebration on the road. So don't be startled if you walk past us and
we throw stuff at you; that's just our way of saying hello.
Oh, and sorry in advance about those beads we leave dangling from your palm trees. We just can't help ourselves.
</p><span style="display: inline;" class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-photo"><span class="photo-breakout photo-right medium">
<span class="byline">Times-Picayune archive</span></span></span>
February is also crawfish season, and you can be sure that more than
one enterprising tailgater will figure out a way to transport a couple
sacks of live mudbugs and a boiling pot to Miami.
When the dude
in the 'Who Dat' T-shirt asks if you want to suck da head and pinch da
tail, resist the urge to punch him. He's not propositioning you. He's
inviting you to dinner.
And if you see a big Cajun guy who looks
exactly like an old Saints quarterback walking around town in a dress
... don't ask. It's a long story.
We know that crowd control is a major concern for any Super Bowl host city. Our advice? Put away the riot gear.
Reason No. 1: Indianapolis is going to lose, and their fans are way too dull to start a riot.
Reason
No. 2: New Orleans showed the world on Sunday that we know how to throw
a victory party. We don't burn cars. We dance on them.
Reason
No. 3: Even if we did lose, which we won't, leaving the stadium would
be like leaving a funeral, and our typical response to that is to have
a parade.
Speaking of which: If you happen to see a brass band
roll by, followed by a line of folks waving their handkerchiefs, you're
not supposed to just stand there and watch. As our own Irma Thomas
would say, get your backfield in motion.
And hey, Mister DJ!
Yes, we know you've already played that stupid Ying Yang Twins song 10
times tonight, but indulge us just one more time.
To us, "Halftime (Stand Up and Get Crunk)"
isn't just a song; it's 576 points of good memories. It's the sound of
a Drew Brees touchdown pass to Devery Henderson, a Pierre Thomas dive
for first down on 4th-and-1, a Garrett Hartley field goal sailing
through the uprights in overtime.
It's what a championship sounds like. You may get sick of hearing it. We won't. Encore, dammit.
Inside
Sun Life Stadium, you may find your ears ringing more than usual. We're
louder than other fans. Seven thousand of ours sound like 70,000 of
theirs.
Don't believe us? Ask the 12th man in the Vikings huddle.
Some
people think it's just the Dome that heightens our volume. But you're
about to discover a little secret: We can scream loud enough to make
your head explode, indoors or out.
It's not the roof. It's the heart.
Well, OK, and the beer.
</p><span style="display: inline;" class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-photo"><span class="photo-breakout photo-left medium">
<span class="byline">Susan Poag / The Times-Picayune</span></span></span>
Don't be surprised if there are more Saints fans outside the stadium
than inside. A lot of us are coming just to say we were part of
history, even if we can't witness it up close. The Saints are family to
us, and you know how it is with family: We want to be there for them,
whether they really need us or not. Because we know our presence will
mean something to them, whether they can see us or not.
Come
to think of it, seeing as how you're taking us in for the week, we
pretty much regard you as family, too. So we're warning you now: If
you're within hugging distance, you're fair game.
Hugging strangers is a proud Who Dat tradition, right up there with crying when we win.
Most
sports fans cry when their teams lose. Not us. We've been losing
gracefully and with good humor for 43 years. Tragedy and disappointment
don't faze us. It's success that makes us go to pieces.
Hurricane Katrina? We got that under control. The Saints in the Super Bowl? SOMEBODY CALL A PARAMEDIC!!!
So anyway, don't let the tears of joy freak you out. We're just ... disoriented.
OK. Let's review:
Order
more beer. Throw me something, mister. Suck da heads. Wear da dress.
Stand up. Get crunk. Hug it out. Protect your eardrums. Pass the
Kleenex. Hoist the trophy.
See you at the victory party.
Faithfully yours,
The Who Dat Nation
Features
editor Mark Lorando can be reached at [email protected] or
504.826.3430. Comment and read more at NOLA.com/superbowl.</p>
<h1>Dear Miami: Get ready for the Who Dat Nation coming for the Super Bowl</h1><h4>
By Mark Lorando, The Times-Picayune
</h4><h5>February 01, 2010, 2:06PM</h5><span style="display: inline;" class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-photo"><span class="photo-breakout photo-right medium">
Dear Miami,</p>
The Saints are coming. And so are we, their loyal, long-suffering and slightly discombobulated Super Bowl-bound fans.
While
there's still time to prepare -- although a few hard-core Who Dats will
begin trickling in Monday, most of us won't arrive until Thursday or
Friday -- we thought we'd give you a heads-up about what you should
expect.
First things first: You need more beer.
Yeah, we
know. You ordered extra. You think you have more than any group of
humans could possibly consume in one week. Trust us. You don't.
New
Orleans was a drinking town long before the Saints drove us to drink.
But it turns out beer tastes better when you're winning. (Who knew?) So
let's just say we're thirsty for more than a championship; adjust your
stockpiles accordingly.
And look. When we ask you for a
go-cup, be nice to us. We don't even know what "open container law"
means. Is that anything like "last call"?
It's Carnival season
in New Orleans (that's Mardi Gras to you), and we'll be taking the
celebration on the road. So don't be startled if you walk past us and
we throw stuff at you; that's just our way of saying hello.
Oh, and sorry in advance about those beads we leave dangling from your palm trees. We just can't help ourselves.
</p><span style="display: inline;" class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-photo"><span class="photo-breakout photo-right medium">
February is also crawfish season, and you can be sure that more than
one enterprising tailgater will figure out a way to transport a couple
sacks of live mudbugs and a boiling pot to Miami.
When the dude
in the 'Who Dat' T-shirt asks if you want to suck da head and pinch da
tail, resist the urge to punch him. He's not propositioning you. He's
inviting you to dinner.
And if you see a big Cajun guy who looks
exactly like an old Saints quarterback walking around town in a dress
... don't ask. It's a long story.
We know that crowd control is a major concern for any Super Bowl host city. Our advice? Put away the riot gear.
Reason No. 1: Indianapolis is going to lose, and their fans are way too dull to start a riot.
Reason
No. 2: New Orleans showed the world on Sunday that we know how to throw
a victory party. We don't burn cars. We dance on them.
Reason
No. 3: Even if we did lose, which we won't, leaving the stadium would
be like leaving a funeral, and our typical response to that is to have
a parade.
Speaking of which: If you happen to see a brass band
roll by, followed by a line of folks waving their handkerchiefs, you're
not supposed to just stand there and watch. As our own Irma Thomas
would say, get your backfield in motion.
And hey, Mister DJ!
Yes, we know you've already played that stupid Ying Yang Twins song 10
times tonight, but indulge us just one more time.
To us, "Halftime (Stand Up and Get Crunk)"
isn't just a song; it's 576 points of good memories. It's the sound of
a Drew Brees touchdown pass to Devery Henderson, a Pierre Thomas dive
for first down on 4th-and-1, a Garrett Hartley field goal sailing
through the uprights in overtime.
It's what a championship sounds like. You may get sick of hearing it. We won't. Encore, dammit.
Inside
Sun Life Stadium, you may find your ears ringing more than usual. We're
louder than other fans. Seven thousand of ours sound like 70,000 of
theirs.
Don't believe us? Ask the 12th man in the Vikings huddle.
Some
people think it's just the Dome that heightens our volume. But you're
about to discover a little secret: We can scream loud enough to make
your head explode, indoors or out.
It's not the roof. It's the heart.
Well, OK, and the beer.
</p><span style="display: inline;" class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-photo"><span class="photo-breakout photo-left medium">
Don't be surprised if there are more Saints fans outside the stadium
than inside. A lot of us are coming just to say we were part of
history, even if we can't witness it up close. The Saints are family to
us, and you know how it is with family: We want to be there for them,
whether they really need us or not. Because we know our presence will
mean something to them, whether they can see us or not.
Come
to think of it, seeing as how you're taking us in for the week, we
pretty much regard you as family, too. So we're warning you now: If
you're within hugging distance, you're fair game.
Hugging strangers is a proud Who Dat tradition, right up there with crying when we win.
Most
sports fans cry when their teams lose. Not us. We've been losing
gracefully and with good humor for 43 years. Tragedy and disappointment
don't faze us. It's success that makes us go to pieces.
Hurricane Katrina? We got that under control. The Saints in the Super Bowl? SOMEBODY CALL A PARAMEDIC!!!
So anyway, don't let the tears of joy freak you out. We're just ... disoriented.
OK. Let's review:
Order
more beer. Throw me something, mister. Suck da heads. Wear da dress.
Stand up. Get crunk. Hug it out. Protect your eardrums. Pass the
Kleenex. Hoist the trophy.
See you at the victory party.
Faithfully yours,
The Who Dat Nation
Features
editor Mark Lorando can be reached at [email protected] or
504.826.3430. Comment and read more at NOLA.com/superbowl.</p>