For all intents and purposes, Super Bowl XLIV lived up to all the hype.On paper, the game featured two of the most potent offenses in the NFL this season — with one featuring one of the greatest quarterbacks ever to lace up a pair of cleats, and the other coming from a city that had not yet been able to reign supreme as champions of their domain.Storylines abounded for the game: Peyton Manning vs. Drew Brees, Manning vs. his hometown, Colts defensive lineman Dwight Freeney’s ankle injury and — most importantly for me — the Saints vs. history.  Full disclosure: I’m a lifelong Saints fan.I’ve been that way since my mother birthed me into this world and engrained into me the values of rooting for the Black and Gold at a very young age.I’m not going to say I’ve been suffering as much as my mom or any other of the older Saints fans, but it’s been rough.I remember Aaron Brooks throwing picks and not giving a damn.I remember Hurricane Katrina forcing us to become nomads for an entire season.I remember Mike Ditka trading away almost an entire draft to get Ricky Williams.But most of all, I remember losing year after year and my team being the laughingstock of the NFL.    New Orleans’ football franchise has long been considered one of the worst in the league.The Saints, founded in 1967, had only been to the playoffs six times and had never been to the Super Bowl before this season.Some fans were convinced the team would never amount to anything, and the team’s lack of success became a running joke.Fans wore paper bags and called them the ‘Aints. I’m not going to lie: I did it too, but I never forsook them or jumped off the bandwagon.But the Saints finally got the king-sized monkey off their backs when the clocks struck zero in Miami on Sunday night.The final score read 31-17, Manning looked dejected and Saints coach Sean Payton was drenched in orange Gatorade.The team had been called a team of destiny, and there was one moment when I realized that was true.Down by four at halftime, the fans had just been forced through watching geriatric Brits “rock” across the stage for far too long, and the Colts lined up to receive the kickoff to start the second half.Kicker Thomas Morstead kicked an onside kick, Saints rookie linebacker Jonathan Casillas recovered it, and the Saints took their first lead of the game on the ensuing drive.From then on, I never had a doubt they’d come out on top.Payton’s call to kick it onside took grande cajones, and there’s only one of two explanations when things like that go your way — somebody is point shaving, or you’ve got fate on your side.Fate reared its head again later in the game when the Saints attempted a two-point conversion already up by five points.Wide receiver Lance Moore caught a Brees pass and contorted his way into the end zone only for the side judge to rule the pass incomplete.The Saints challenged the play, and it was overturned, giving New Orleans a seven-point advantage.Destiny.When Tracy Porter took a pass from Manning 74 yards a few minutes later, it was simply icing on the sweetest king cake the Who Dat Nation ever tasted.The team, the fans and most importantly the city of New Orleans deserved this win.Words can’t describe the state of euphoria and disbelief this win has put me in, but they’re telling me what happened is true.This whole column probably seems like a giant cliché, but this is real, unadulterated emotion from a dude who didn’t want to see his favorite franchise become the Chicago Cubs of football.Thank you, Saints.
 
 
 
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