New Orleans Saints win, and I have decided that since this is the first sporting event I have watched in over a decade, it will be a metaphor for my own forthcoming triumph.  The Saints almost left New Orleans for good after Katrina.  We had to beg them to stay, and finally they did.  As a newcomer to NOLA I was disgusted how quickly they were ready to abandon ship.  I must admit, I know that feeling all too well.  At last, they did not, because of politics and negotiations I did not understand.  But now thanks to their commitment, one of the select few true cities of America can feel unique and united again.

Like the Saints, I have been trying for a very long time and against uncommon odds.  I too have overcome hostility, interspersed with vague enthusiasm, prodded occasionally by encouragement, usually coupled with flagrant opportunism, then followed by selective indifference.  It took the Saints over four decades to reach their first Superbowl.  They must have been so very tired of almost.  Just as I too am so very tired of it.  I am tired of a decade of fervent hope invariably followed by inexplicable defeat.  I have had enough.  I have been defeated so many times I’ve had to give up counting just to have the courage to stay in play.  That’s the common writer’s lament, I guess.  While I feel I should now be at the top of my game, I am continually in the seat of the novice.

Thanks to the Saints I have again been reminded that resilience is powerful, as are faith, and inspiration, and destiny.   I watched the game because I knew they would win against the odds, because we were all rooting for them with our hearts, and not our minds.  There is logic, and then there is magic.

Like the Saints, my day too will come.  I will keep my mind on task and my heart open to magic.