Just Crawfish

The crawfish boil is New Orleans' version of a barbecue. When I heard a bar near me in Chicago was having a crawfish boil, I jumped on it. The crawfish were on the small side, but boiled right with potatoes, corn, sausage, etc. They also had pans of Jambalaya that was very tasty, or maybe the Abita on tap helped with that. Nothing like drinking during the day to shake things up.

When I first moved to Chicago, I felt special being from New Orleans. I never told anyone I felt this way, but when people found out where I was born, they instantly regaled me with stories of exploits of their trip. When they heard my accent, they might wonder if I had lived in Brooklyn, not sure about the odd inflections when I spoke.

I would also get to tell them about the "to-go" cup and how early I started drinking and it was perfectly legal. I get to tell them about Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest and the non-touristy things to do. When I lived in New Orleans all those things were normal, but outside of New Orleans, I was different in a good way.

But that feeling faded with my accent and I was a little disappointed when I go to this crawfish boil of about 80 guests and only saw one other person with a Saints jersey on and I didn't even get to talk to her. I wore my purple, green and gold striped Mardi Gras shirt and big Saints beads and not one comment from anyone, who were all dressed normal. They guys who cooked the crawfish didn't even comment on my loud shirt. 

One cool thing is that I got to meet Lake Charles, Louisiana native and Bears running back Matt Forte as I was leaving. It was a quick ten seconds and after his running the gauntlet of fan-selfies, he was interested in a getaway so we didn't talk New Orleans stuff, which is fine because I would have to tell him I'm a die hard Saints fan. 

My friends and I had a great time, but a crawfish boil is a social event in New Orleans. If everyone ain't talking to everyone, then its not a party…it's just crawfish.

Coming Back Stronger by Drew Brees

I just read Coming Back Stronger by Drew Brees, quarterback of the New Orleans Saints. It might appear that I’m a bit biased since I am a die-hard Saints fan, but in reality, it makes me a tougher critic because I would be very disheartened by a lack-luster attempt at an autobiography.

By age thirteen, I proclaimed myself an atheist, then a few years later agnostic, but now, I’m back to atheism. I had always told my friends that if God is who they say, then he/she won’t mind as long as I live a good and moral life. If there is a God, he/she will tell me, ‘hell, you lived at a higher standard than those who chose to represent me.’

Drew Brees is very devoted to God and it is reinforced throughout the book and that is not an issue with me. It’s perfect for New Orleans as most of its residents were raised Catlick. Religion is an argument that you cannot win, but can only respect. What Brees triumphed over is an inspiration in itself, but there were certain parts of the book when he talked about New Orleans and the people and the detestation that I had to stop reading because of my tears.

It doesn’t take much for me to become emotional about my home town and what they went through (I live in Chicago now, but I was involved in my family’s plight) and I have the same appreciation for the team that the current locals do. I teared up when they got into the Superbowl and when they won it.

Brees maps out his rocky road to success with all the speed bumps along the way. I loved the details of his draft and his injuries and his dealings with Miami. He was an underdog and fought through where many would have given up. This book has just enough football, mixed with a perfect portion of inspiration and he gives a lot of credit to his faith and God. Like I said, I don’t mind that. He says God, I say good.

Too much of a good story

Here’s another example of how the press, particularly sports journalists, can ruin a good thing.

I am from New Orleans and a life-long, die-hard Saints fan and have endured all the hardships that went along with it. This year, the magical year, was marred by the over-coverage and over-documented Katrina tragedy.

Hell, there was a drinking game made up for the Saints coverage.

Of course, the New Orleans fans love affair with the team is a feel good story along with turning to our beloved Saints while holding on to hope that New Orleans is going to return to its original state, little by little, year by year. And this year was inspirational and uplifting.

But having the rest of the world with no ties to New Orleans listen to the analysts and journalists talk about it over and over could make the most sympathetic person roll their eyes. I get it.

I can only hope that you can tune out the sportscaster and hold on to the story, because in truth, it is a good one.