On Tuesday night, I found myself on the corner of Barrone and Howard with the rest of New Orleans celebrating the Saints victory in the Super Bowl. However, I had a problem. I am born and raised in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Not only that I am a Vikings fan. I have lived in New Orleans for the better part of a year and a half. While I love my first home with all my heart, so much has happened to me. I’ve had to run from a hurricane after only being here a week only to end up running towards the worst part of it in Baton Rouge. I’ve had the distinct pleasure of being accommodated in Orleans Parish Prison for a night. I’ve fallen in love and lost it. Not to mention my first Mardi Gras and all the other standard New Orleans bucket list experiences. So with this victory I found myself in the first conflict of interest since coming down here last fall.
See, I supported both teams in the regular season, knowing in my gut that they were destined to face each other in the playoffs. When they did, ultimately I sided with my home team. To do otherwise I felt would be treasonous. However, I knew that if New Orleans won, the city would have its hopes so high that it would seem impossible for them to not go on to win the Super Bowl. Since this is what happened, I could see in locals an excitement and hope that didn’t quite seem to be there before. So when time came for kickoff last Sunday, I wanted the Saints to win. Not for me, but for my second home. They needed it more than me.
While my first home has seen its share of let-downs on the football field, my second had been let down by so many of the things in which they had placed faith. It was in seeing this I realized how to reconcile my two homes. Just place my heart behind whichever one needs it the most and the rest should manage to work itself out.