WHO DAT SAY HE GONNA WALK TO WORK? 

Chuck and I went to the Saints opener Sunday. My dad won two free tickets in the T-P dealers' raffle. He went with a friend who sits in the lower section and gave both of the T-P tickets to me. I first offered the other ticket to Bert (who turned it down) because he let me sleep on his sofa during Gustav. I had to be at work for 4 p.m., so I parked in the T-P parking lot. Chuck picked me up there, and we headed to his building on Poydras to park for free. Putting the actual game aside for a minute, here's my experience through pictures of the festivities.

Just one block from Chuck's building, we caught this light up ahead SEVEN times. Many cars were trying to turn right, where the National Guard was blocking through traffic. This caused no-moving traffic and much confusion. If you look close, there is a guy on the street between two cars. During one of the red lights, he got out of his car to investigate the hold up. The light turned green before he got back, but it didn't matter. No cars moved. Waiting in line would become the theme of the day. That's called foreshadow, kids.
Trying to blend in with the crowd, Chuck brown bags it on the way to the Dome. His sister bought him the beer for driving her into work early Sunday. He figured he had to drink it because it was a gift. However, he wasn't quite taking to the taste of Heineken and pitched it half-full. Or was it half-empty?
During halftime, I left my seat in search of food and the bathroom. I didn't count on finding the legendary Pete Finney, center, walking the halls of the 600 section. I went to the bathroom first and got in line behind this guy in a stall. I picked the wrong line. I think the dude broke Tom Hanks' record in A League of Their Own (Why is he always pissing in his big-time movies?). Using my better judgment, I decided not to whip out my camera and snap a picture of the record piss. Anyway, as I leave the bathroom on my way to a food line, I spot Finney strolling along. I think he heard I was at the game and since he reads this blog, he knows I'm trying to break his tenure record at the T-P. He was clearly out to get me. Or he got lost on his way back to the press box.
This guy is the 633 section captain. Or is he the 633 section drunk? Same difference. Before just about every defensive play, especially third downs, he led the cheers. He told the rest of us to get on our feet and get louder. He waved his hands up and down at us. Good thing he did. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known when to cheer. One time when Garcia called timeout, he turned around and announced: "That was us. We did that." The Bucs were driving toward our end zone. "This is our end zone. It's up to us." Section captain also bought the last hot dog at the stand right before Chuck's turn to order. Speaking of our section, a group of fans a few rows above us had quite the chant after a questionable call. I couldn't make out the beginning, but it ended with: "Up in the tree, let's hang the referee." Not something I would yell out loud. 
This is the line to get to the exits after the big victory. We then had to wait in line to get on the elevator in Chuck's building. I've waited in line at the grocery store, at fast-food joints and at Major Video to buy concert tickets. But I've never waited in line for an elevator until Sunday. We finally get to the car, and the line to get out of the building isn't moving. After twenty minutes of not moving, we realize the line isn't going anywhere. 

That's when I decided to walk to work. The line to get out of Chuck's building emptied on a street where a block party was taking place. Chuck comes along for the walk with the intention of getting picked up by Bob at the T-P and waiting for the party to end to go back for his car. Twenty-something minutes into the journey, we are approaching the bridge (I don't know the name of it) that leads right to the T-P, which put us about ten minutes out. I think.

That's when I notice one of my bosses drive by us. He catches the light up ahead, and I chase him down. I knock on the window. He's obviously surprised to see me out and about. I was close to finishing the journey, and I wanted to be able to say that I walked from the Dome to work. It was pretty hot out there, however, and so I took the ride. We enter the building, and the boss tells someone: "I found Gene hitchhiking." I wonder how long it took for Chuck to get out of that parking garage. Drop me a line, buddy.

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom is worn out by the work we did in the yard Saturday. "I'm so fucking tired."

As I'm leaving for the Saints game, I set the DVR to record the Dolphins-Jets game. Mom was watching something on Demand, so I had to stop that first. "Are you fucking kidding me? A fucking game?"

While I'm sitting in the parking garage after the Saints game, I get a call from mom. She tells me the cake is now in the fridge. "The fucking ice melted off. It got so fucking hot in here."

THE SAINTS ARE COMING

I became hesistant about going to the Saints-Bucs game Sunday on Friday night when I couldn't remember a time I attended a Saints victory. I checked my ticket collection when I got home and realized I'm an idiot again. I had season tickets in 2003. They went 5-3 at home that year. My total record, however, heading into Sunday was 6-13, which includes nine consecutive games that weren't played in 2003. Ouch. Plus, I gave up a rare opportunity for a trifecta. The Dolphins, Saints and Cubs were all on TV at the same time. I could have been in channel-flipping heaven. But the tickets were free, the parking was free, it was the return from Gustav... Wait, I don't need a list of reasons to go to a Saints game. Time for my thoughts on the game.

1) Pierre Thomas runs the ball. He catches the ball. He returns kickoffs. He covers kickoffs. I hear he also caters. (Fine, JRap. I said vehemently Saturday night that PT had no chance of playing Sunday. JRap said he would. I said I'll feel like a real idiot when he goes out there and runs the ball on the first play. Sure enough, on the first play from scrimmage, PT went 4 yards. In my defense, I didn't know Stecker and Deuce weren't playing.)

2) I have never once said the Saints should get rid of Devery or even put him on the end of the bench. Though he only seems to do well against Tampa. Was he showboating by holding up the ball on his touchdown or was he trying to show himself that he actually caught it?

3) Let's not get too excited about the defense quite yet. The unit missed a lot of tackles, and the Bucs receivers aren't exactly the greatest challenge for the new cornerbacks.

4) So far, a few of my bold predictions look good. So far. Jacksonville lost, Cleveland got smashed and Reggie made the winning play for the Saints. I was listening to the Reg-gie! chant at the Dome, and I noticed it sounds like Red Meat! Red Meat! So from now on, I'm chanting for Red Meat. Chuck has promised to do the same.

5) The streak is broken. I saw my first Saints victory live (not in 2003) since they beat the Dolphins in 1995. I don't have much of a memory of that game, but if you think about, I didn't really see a victory. I was cheering for the Fish.

MY WEEKLY CUBS THOUGHTS

-- I only saw two games this week. I didn't have power for a few days and was at work during a few night games. I watched one game on tape. I feel like this has contributed to the slump.

-- Big Z is skipping at least one start. His previous two starts were awful. I didn't wear my jersey either time. See, I'm blowing it for them.

-- The Cubs are backing into the playoffs. That's a no good boss. At least we built up a lead in August.

-- I can't take all the blame. Gillie and Jenna both went to games recently. Both losses. Shame. Shame. (Special thanks to Nick for pointing that out to me.)

-- MVP of the Week: Soriano. He hit three homers Saturday and got his seventh outfield assist Sunday. That's pretty much all that went right this week.

PARTING SHOTS

Chuck and I are in the elevator on the way to the Saints game with a family of four.

15-year-old daughter: "They better win. If they lose, I'm going to kill somebody."

Me (with a sense of fear): "Umm, what section are you in? Because I don't want to die."

(The daughter got creeped out by my first sentence and backed away from me toward her dad. Fortunately, her mom understood the joke and started laughing. Crisis avoided. I should learn to shut up in elevators.)

Bake and I are working up the U.S. Open women's championship story.

Me: Oh, Bake. I didn't give you an inch count on that Serena story.

Bake: No, you did not.

Me: Well, it only needs to be x amount of inches.

Bake: So far I only have y inches.

THE DAILY TOP LIST

My favorite five Nintendo games. I played Nintendo a lot when I was a kid. I'm not big on video games anymore. I hardly play. My Nintendo still works, though.

5) Rampage.

You go around destroying buildings with King Kong and Godzilla looking characters. 

4) World Cup.

It's not easy, but you can with the U.S.A. 

3) Baseball Stars.

Still the best baseball game I've ever played. It even has what amounts to franchise mode.

2) Mega Man 2, 3 and 4.

I think I'll waste an afternoon soon beating these games all over again.

1) Tecmo Super Bowl.

The best game ever. I can beat the Bucs using the Saints 100-0, though the scoreboard doesn't go past 99. I also wrote a column about the game's greatness in the school newspaper.