The hopes of an entire season rested on this kick.”NO! Oh my god, how could he do that?” It was the kick, and the call, that summed up everything the Saints used to be. As the Saints blew another game, Jim Henderson’s cry of disbelief spoke for every Saints fan who ever had their hopes dashed by their team. You probably know the story. The Saints, on the verge of a playoff berth, needed a win against the Jacksonville Jaguars for a shot at the postseason. The Jaguars led by a touchdown with seven seconds left in the game. With the Saints’ playoff hopes slipping away, they needed a miracle.Well, they got one. Aaron Brooks passed to Donte Stallworth, Stallworth pitched to Michael Lewis, Lewis lateraled to Deuce McAllister, McAllister threw to Jerome Pathon, and Pathon scored.It was improbable. It was impossible. And in the end, it was too good to be true. The extra point sailed wide right, and Saints fans everywhere, including myself, shook their heads. Same ole Saints. Hey, they’ve always known how to lose in style. We’re talking about a team that drafted a kicker in the first round and passed on Lawrence Taylor. Twice in one season, they lost on Hail Mary plays — to the same team.The Tampa Bay Buccaneers and the Cleveland Browns were winless until they played the Saints.For a long time, the franchise touchdown leader was a quarterback best remembered for his backward passes and smiling interceptions. The Saints were the inventors of wearing the paper bag — the very definition of painful memories. Those days are gone. Born from the waters of a hurricane is a team that has built a foundation on new memories. We cheered when Steve Gleason blocked a punt in the first game back in the Superdome. We willed Deuce to carry the team on his back to beat the Eagles for our second playoff win. We laughed as Mike Karney scored his first NFL touchdown, his second and his third in a rout of the Cowboys. These moments now define the Saints. They’re proofthe “same ole Saints” were washed out with Katrina. If there was ever an indication this team is different, look no further than the Redskins game on Dec. 8. How else do you explain an interception that turned into a touchdown or the chip-shot field goal the Redskins couldn’t make? It should have been a loss. In the past, it would have been. The “same ole Saints?” Impossible. So back to the kick.The hopes of a season rested on this kick. Sound familiar? “It’s good! Pigs have flown; hell has frozen over. The Saints are on their way to the Super Bowl!” It was the kick, and the call, that sums up everything the Saints are now. Jim Henderson’s voice once again rang out in disbelief as Garrett Hartley’s perfect kick soared through the uprights. It was improbable. It was impossible. And in the end, it was finally good enough. For 43 years the Aints didn’t give us much reason to believe, but we did. Call us naïve. Call us eternal optimists. Call us whatever you want. We have always believed. Emotions of Saints fans right now are probably pretty similar to what “Sports Illustrated” writer John Ed Bradley felt as he watched the LSU Tigers win a national championship after 43 years.”I was never so moved as I was on Sunday night, watching what we saw,” Bradley wrote. “After it was over and I’d gone to bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about all those who’d loved the Tigers but were no longer here to celebrate the victory. I whispered their names in the dark, ticking them off one by one. You must forgive me for feeling so much. It was such a long time coming, I can’t stop wishing everyone was here.”I was in the Dome the night Hartley kicked the Saints into history. As the confetti rained down, I too thought about all the people who never got to experience this feeling.If they were there, I would have asked them if it was all worth it.I know what they’d say. It was worth every moment.——Contact Katherine Terrell at [email protected]