But, for part-timers like me, it was only sorta tough. I decided to go with the underdog, I'm good about that.
We went to a party at our friends L and T's house - and this . . .
was pre-game entertainment.
Here's He's Too Good To Me in the middle, he's pretty goofy sometimes . . .
but he's my goofball, and I love him.
This one . . .
and this one . . .
they're goofy all the time.
My daughter's honey, Joe, is one of those die-hard Saint's fans. He's a Louisiana boy.
My other daughter's honey is one of those die-hard Colt's fans. He was watching the game at a different location. Tomorrow I'll send him my condolences along with some flowers.
"Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say dey gunna beat them Saints?"
Sorry Ruben, love 'ya.
I'll leave you with my brother-in-law's SOTD.
Here in the Deep South, we've been living a dream the past two
weeks. We believed--we never stopped believing--but few of us
ever expected this day to come. But here it is...and here we are.
To all my friends who suffered through the never-ending Sundays
of dashed hopes, wrecked dreams, and extra point kicks that flew
just right of the post, lift a glass, shout for joy, and soak up every
minute of this surreal, fleeting experience. Pigs have flown! Hell has
frozen over! The New Orleans Saints
Thanks L and T, and all of our friends, for a wonderful evening. Till next year . . .