(Miami)-Saints fans are starting to pour into the stadium. I've seen a lot of football games, but rarely have I seen a collective consciousness like this. These people are ebullient. At the risk of overextending a Saints metaphor, it's like they've died and gone to Heaven. A communion of Saints, convinced at this moment that theirs is a team of destiny.
The quietly confident Colts fans are wandering around in Blue-clad packs, watching all this with wide-eyed wonder..JPG)
They are not calling attention to themselves at all. The Super Bowl experience is not new to them, whether their fandom is confined to the team's Indiana tenure or if it dates back to ancient Baltimore days.
In the two weeks since the Saints won the NFC championship, I have been envious of Saints fans' euphoria. I've been happy for them, but I just wasnt feeling it. .JPG)
Now, as kickoff approaches, I have to admit my skin is tingling. There's tremendous excitement in the concourses, and soon it will all funnel into a giant south Florida bowl known as Sun Life Stadium..JPG)
While wandering around the place, I ran into my friend Fletcher, known to loyal Daddy D readers as Frequent Traveling Companion. I hadn't seen his since, well...lunch. But it was good to see him, anyway.
The sign says a storm is coming. I can hear the thunder already.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Emotion Building On The Concourse
The Streets are Crowded and So Is the Sky
(Miami) - We have arrived at the facility formerly known as Joe Robbie Stadium four and a half hours before kickoff. Fortunately, a big bus brought a gaggle of us here and dropped us off near the security checkpoint. Ah, Security. It is thorough. I have been patted down, wanded, inspected and eyeballed. This was to be expected and is the major reason we chose to arrive so early.
I would hate to be an air traffic controller in south Florida today. There are blimps and airplanes circling the stadium. There are also intimidating black military helicopters.
My perch is not near my TV friends, but I was on the bus with Roy Lang from the local newspaper and we had time for a pre-game buddy photo:
Naturally, the streets around the stadium are clogging quickly. People are starting to stream into the parking lots. For the first time, we saw more Colts fans than Saints fans, but I suspect that's temporary. Each team got an identical number of tickets, but it wold be a safe bet to believe Saints fans have been willing to pay a higher price on the secondary market to witness history being made.
Adrenaline is starting to build. Looking forward to watching this place fill up.
Saints Alive! It's Super Bowl Sunday!
(Ft. Lauderdale, FL) - You couldn't ask for a better day. Even if the events planned for later this afternoon didn't have the potential to be life-changing for people who love the New Orleans Saints, the morning would still be spectacular. Sunrise over the Atlantic, waves, sand, an ocean breeze: Sunday morning at its February finest. There is a pause in the party as fans begin to realize that the game is upon us. For the football teams, a championship hangs in the balance. For the people of New Orleans, there is a shot at redemption, recovery and deliverance. Having spent time in close quarters with them, I can assure you that is not an overstatement.
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My day started early, filling souvenir orders from family. The women back home had specific demands. I hope I didn't let them down.
Then, breakfast by the ocean again with Frequent Traveling Companion. 
Interestingly, we are not on this trip together. Our hotels are less than a half-mile apart, though, so it's easy to hang out.
This is my first visit to South Florida, and I can tell you it is not oversold. The photos, the stories, the scenery you hear about, it's all here. Now, if the game delivers that will put a nice ribbon around what has already been a tremendous weekend.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Black and Gold Thunder
(Miami Beach) - Bourbon Street has come to South Beach. New Orleans Saints fans have taken over. On this, the night before their beloved team's first-ever Super Bowl, they joyfully squeezed Indianapolis Colts fans off of Ocean Drive with their sheer numbers and unbridled enthusiasm..JPG)
The Colts are favored to win the game, but they aren't in the same league with the party. There's enough rock and hip-hop to give Miami Beach a thunderous thump-thump on a regular Saturday night, but with Saints fans in charge you can add drums, horns and spontaneous parades....JPG)
When you think Bourbon Street, certain things come to mind. For instance, people elbow to elbow in the street, partying with purpose. Check:
You also think of massive alcohol consumption. Check.
Oh, and women wearing alarmingly little clothing. Um, check:.JPG)
.JPG)
Bourbon Street has been known to feature a little burlesque along the way. Check:.JPG)
I felt it was vital to document this rampant debauchery so that we may properly disapprove of it. Clearly, French Quarter sensibilities have stormed this beach with a blitzkrieg of Who Dat Juju.
What reminds us that we are not, in fact, in New Orleans is the beach itself. Having just one full day here before the Super Bowl, making my way to the sand and surf was a priority. It was late in the afternoon when I arrived with the traveling party and most of the beautiful people had moved inland to brace for the storm of Saints faithful..JPG)
This actually worked to our advantage because we were able to hang out for a while without getting in anyone's way or working up a sweat..JPG)
The parties will pause tomorrow because this particular Sunday is about the business of football. That's what worries me for Saints fans. The Colts and their followers have been businesslike in their approach to all this. Meantime, for the fleur-de-lis folks, it's all about the festivities. Having spent a couple of days embedded with them, I'm really pulling for their team to win. It would simply mean so much to them. If they do indeed become Super Bowl champs, in terms of a party, we ain't seen nothin' yet. Who Dat?.JPG)
A New Attitude, but Still No Luggage
(Ft. Lauderdale, FL) - How tired and frustrated was I when I arrived late last night? (Technically, early this morning). I met some friends somewhere down the highway for a beer and had no idea we were on the waterfront! To my amazement and bemusement, I learned this in a nice way when, after a few hours' sleep, I drove to that same spot looking for breakfast. Next door to the place where I oblivously decompressed hours earlier, I enjoyed a spectacular oceanside meal with this view.
I ate alone and was happy about that. I really like being in control of my own movements. My phone has been ringing, though, and there are some festivities planned with my buddies later in the day.
I took a moment to stroll along the beach, but since I still have no luggage I couldn't get my only clothes and shoes wet or sandy. That kind of limits the beach experience. That's okay, this is a football trip. The beach is just lagniappe.
I watched Saints fans stroll along the beach, basically thrilled to be here. Black and Gold-clad hordes have descended upon south Florida, most of them without tickets to the game. People are plotting party strategies, win or lose. It's remarkable to see.
Colts fans are sprinkled in among them, but they seem much more button-down and businesslike. They expect a Super Bowl championship and anything less will be a letdown. I even overheard one group talking about how they've been here all week, but they're flying back to Indianapolis to watch the game on television. Can you imagine a Saints fan doing that?
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On the way out the door this morning, I ran into the islandic angel who washed my clothes for me. She was very kind. I discovered I shall not see her again, because she be off work until after I am gone. She improved my life just a little, though. The scenerey seemed so much nicer with clean socks and underwear.
Not Exactly A Seamless Trip
(Ft. Lauderdale, FL) - I have met an angel disguised as an islandic overnight clerk at a hotel in south Florida. More on that in a moment.
The good news: I have arrived in suburban Miami for my Big Super Bowl Adventure. Getting here wasn't easy. Being here hasn't been a picnic so far.
I don't want to say my frustrations are all Delta Airlines' fault, but they're all Delta Airlines' fault. Knowing this was a weekender (although a remarkable one), I just brought a carry-on bag. (Or, as they call them these days, a "roll-aboard." For a year or so, I wondered why flight attendants were talking about "roller boards," but that's another story.) The plane I was on for the first leg of the trip was packed and the flight attendants determined their was no room for my roll-aboard, among many others. At least three people in Delta uniforms assured me that my bag had been checked all the way to Miami. When I got to Miami, my bag was not there. After standing in line for an hour at the baggage problem office, it was determined that my bag was in Atlanta.
What's in my bag? All of my clothes, my Garmin, my camera, my phone charger, my Kindle charger, you name it. It was my carry-on. It had everything in it.
So, in a strange city I can't navigate and I can't call anybody because my phone is dead. I'm also running several hours behind. (Not Delta's fault mostly, because of severe weather.) The fact that flights were delayed all over the southeast makes the lost bag even more inexcusable.
I found a phone charger at a gas station and found my way to the hotel, where I encountered the angelic, islandic all-night clerk. She heard my tale of woe: "All I have is the clothes on my back, and to be honest with you my feet stink. I can't wear these socks, or frankly this udnerwear, another day." I asked her if there is a Wal-Mart or a Target or something nearby so I can buy socks and underwear and maybe a pair of khakis. She said, islandicly "It is too far away. I will take care of this for you." She offered to launder my clothes for me. I kept my jeans, a tee shirt and my shoes. I turned over the objectionable items to her on faith.
At this writing, I don't have my clothes back yet. Hey, wait a minute! What if she's not an angel at all? What if she's a polo shirt thief?
Thank God I kept my pants.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Confessions of a Middle Aged Man
I will turn fifty years old this year, The Big Five-Oh. That means it’s a virtual certainty that I have made it more than halfway through my Earthly journey.
So, I have decided to commemorate this auspicious circumstance I will randomly confess some of my shortcomings. Let’s start here: I’m a packrat. There, Honey, I admit it.
I have neckties that are now 30 years old. I have shirts that are older: rugby shirts, Polo shirts, tee shirts, Hawaiian shirts, you name it. They’re in boxes in the attic, stuffed in drawers, stashed in closets in my old room at my father’s house. What do I plan to do with them? I have no clue. Somewhere down the line, maybe somebody will make a memory quilt with them or something.
Sure, they’re out of style and way too small. But, you never know when you might need a tee shirt emblazoned with a CBS promotional slogan for the 1980 TV season.
I also have memorabilia from my many years in the media: Super Bowl passes, laptop cases with various logos, V-Neck sweaters from media days for some kind of horse race, miniature souvenir baseball bats commemorating ballpark openings. The list goes on and on.
My wife is such a spectacular person; I can truly say I only remember being legitimately upset with her one time. Years ago, without asking, she threw out a bunch of old CD’s. What was she thinking? I need therapy for this.
Here’s the newest collection: commemorative footballs.
I have a Louisiana Tech football signed by former head coach Derek Dooley, a football from the 2009 Army-Navy game, and balls emblazoned with the logos of teams that have participated in any number of Independence Bowls. What am I supposed to do with those? I don’t have any kind of display case set up in my home or anything like that.
Know where they are? The bottom of my closet, right under a bunch of ball caps I never wear any more. Let’s see, there’s one from the hockey team, another from the baseball team, one from that golf tournament, one from a festival, Oh, look! Saints! A couple or three or four or more from TV stations...and way in the back corner, one from the USFL champion Baltimore Stars….
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The White Hot Spotlight of Regional TV
(Natchitoches, LA) – Do you remember the movie “Broadcast News” (1987)? One of the most memorable scenes in it involves a character played by Albert Brooks.
A credible, hard-working broadcast journalist, Brooks’ character gets an opportunity to anchor at the network level. While doing so, he breaks out in a nervous sweat.
I thought about that today as I hosted the “Toyota Intermission Report” between games of a men’s and women’s basketball double header on the Southland Conference Television Network. About five minutes into the show, I was sweating vigorously, if not profusely.
It had little to do with nerves but rather was a function of the furious pace of setting up the show immediately following the first game and the proximity of the lights.
Plus, it was warm in the arena and I was wearing a wool suit. I could have chosen something more light-weight like a blazer and slacks, but it’s January!
I had a half-hour to fill without script, but with plenty of scores, standings and interviews. It was the kind of television I really love: live, extemporaneous and on location. 
It’s been almost five years since I anchored from a studio with a TelePrompTer. I believe if the opportunity to do so should arise, it would be like falling off a log. I made one mistake today, tossing to a break before I was supposed to. That’s an issue and I know I tackled the production guys for a loss, but I hope we all recovered well.
Even though I don’t do this sort of thing for a living anymore, I still like to think I have enough intellectual dexterity to pull it off without embarrassing myself or the network. Deep experience certainly helps. I see young broadcasters who have such a dependency on their prompters, some of them really struggle when they’re asked to be live from a remote location.
On a personal level, I really enjoyed going to Northwestern State and doing this assignment. Many of the people there have been a part of my life for decades and it was a pleasure to see them again.
It was comfortable to spend time with coaches and broadcasters I’ve known for so long. My wife went along and observed from a distance. She later said, “It really looked like they were happy to see you.” I hope she’s right.
I look forward to doing it again, assuming I’m asked. I feel fully confident that I’m up to the task. Really, no sweat!
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Here's a peek behind the curtain: You get two guys who are not as young as they used to be. Shine television lights in their eyes. While they are live on the air, tell the host through the gizmo in his ear to refer to something on the monitor. Then watch with hilarity as the two old guys try in vain to actually read the information. Their faces might look something like this:
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Leftovers From the Road
Various obligations led me to the unusual circumstance of staying home this weekend. So, with nothing particularly exciting to report, there are fond recollections of a couple of recent trips. Squeezed into my frigid Yankee Holiday was a quick visit with one of my oldest friends. 
We met when we were fry-cooks together at McDonald's in the 1970's, and our friendship has endured despite time and distance. He lives in a DC suburb and we were able to squeeze in a quick burger lunch before my flight home. Longstanding friendships are interesting that way. You may go years without seeing one another, but when you do get together,things feel very comfortable. Our visit was too brief, but it was great to see him and the burger was tasty.
Later in the month, I found myself in Orlando, America's playground. While I did not set foot in a theme park, there was plenty of football-related fun. Me being me, though, food stories leap to mind.
Being from the country and all, I had never eaten at a Cuban restaurant, so when I saw one, I convinced the traveling companion to give it a try.
We were not disappointed. I ordered a sampler dish that had three kinds of meats and several sides. There was rice involved, some kind of black beans and plantains! Plantains? I've seen them in the grocery store, but I don't recall ever eating any. I can't say that anymore. The dinner, accompanied by Mojitos, was outstanding.
The trip to central Florida was all about football, so certain details were overlooked when we were packing. For example, we made no provisions for New Year's Eve. After a long day of following around the LSU football team and providing coverage of their activities for TV viewers back in Louisiana, we were tired and hungry. Given the day, we had trouble finding anyone willing to accommodate us. The hotel restaurants were booked solid. We found our way to a great development called Pointe Orlando and wandered around looking for food. Time and again, we heard "Sorry, we're closed for a private party," or "all seatings are full." And the unspoken but obvious "You guys are way underdressed for tonight, boys."
Finally, a Maitre D' took pity on us and directed us to patio seating by the outdoor bar. It was fantastic. They had a bowl game on a big screen HD television, the bar was nearby and the waiter was attentive. And the food: outrageously good. Expensive, but worth every penny.
On the way home, I was asked what the high point of trip had been. I said, quite honestly,
"For me, it was the first bite of that steak at the Capital Grille." Twice in 2009, I had the opportunity while traveling to eat at one of those places and both times the experience was through the roof. I may even choose my next trip by making sure they have a Capital Grille there. Next time, though, I have to make sure I take my wife along. It's just not the same without her.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Feeling Very Civilized
We had people over, hosting an honest-to-goodness, by-God dinner party. This isn't something we do. We should do it. I mean, shouldn't we all? The people were perfectly nice. How could they not be? They're from the church. One couple even lives in our neighborhood, so we might have been able to pass it off as a block party. 
This involved setting the table, cooking the meal and cleaning the house. There were table linens and good china and four couples sitting around the dining room table catting amiably. Maybe if we did have our friends over more often, we wouldn't have felt so much pressure.
The concept is honorable. It's called "dinners for eight," and the idea is to bring together in family homes couples of varying ages. It was our turn to host and I have to say my bride did herself proud. The house was scrubbed clean and filled with the aroma of home cooking.
It was an overwhelmingly positive experience. We had perfect attendance, the food was good and everybody hung around a good, long time.
Yep, they hung around for a good, long time. I'm looking forward to seeing them again the next time we have dinner, WHICH WILL NOT BE DURING A DALLAS COWBOYS PLAYOFF GAME.
To be fair, this dinner has been long-planned and there was no legitimate way to foresee that the Cowboys would play on a Saturday during prime time. BUT THEY DID! And I missed the first half. The Cowboys hadn't won a playoff game since 1996, and they were playing their fiercest rivals, the Philadelphia Eagles.
But Dinners for Eight will not wait! There was no way we were postponing. We didn't even discuss it.
I should mention that this whole concept was brought to the church leadership by my sweet mother-in-law, who popped in before dinner to check on her little project. This is the first year for DFE,and by all accounts it has been a swimming success. It's an all-volunteer enterprise and she had many couples sign up. In fact, she is making the rounds of her DFE's, taking group photos to help promote a possible expansion of the program in Year Two.
Speaking of success, the Cowboys took a 27-7 lead into halftime.
While they were exorcizing the demons of playoffs past, we were saying grace and swapping stories.
I only snuck out of the dining room once to take a peak at the game. Thank God for Tivo. I caught up during halftime and settled in for a tremendous second half as the Cowboys thrilled their fans with their first playoff win in thirteen years.
We'll have people over again. Soon, I hope. But probably not during football season.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Quick Hitter from a Suddenly Silent Cowboys Stadium
What happens when the most highly touted television in the world suddenly stops working?
100,621 people fall disquietingly silent, like primitives experiencing their first solar eclipse. Breathing becomes shallow. Nostrils dilate. A murmur develops.
There's a black hole in the collective consciousness.
People begin text messaging about exit strategies if the power fails. Flashbulbs fire like New Year's Eve.
Then someone repairs the problem and everything returns to normal.
Oh, and the Cowboys beat the Eagles to claim the NFC Eastern Division title.
The place is loud again, just like it should be.
Feeling Silver and Blue in Jonestown
(Arlington, TX) – In a 26-hour span, I spent more than 17 hours in a moving motor vehicle, but for me it was worth it..
On the way from Orlando to Arlington, I spent the night in my own bed and reacquainted myself with my lovely bride, who has been dutifully keeping the home fires burning. She had our daughter and the pets to keep her company, but somehow I get the feeling that didn’t help her much.
This is my first trip to Cowboys Stadium, and it certainly lives up to its billing.
Like so many people have said, it’s difficult to force yourself to watch the game as it’s played on the field because of the spectacular giant high definition screen commanding your attention.
I made the trip with my friend Roy, who is my Cowboys connection. 
I’m grateful for the opportunity, as I am for my friend Tim, who lets me tag along to LSU games. It just turns out to be a kind of cruel coincidence that they invited me to games quite literally a half-continent apart. It says something about the nature of friendship and the intensity of football fandom that I was eager to avail myself of these opportunities.
It’s easy to be struck by the obvious contrast between the facilities I have visited in the last three days. Citrus Bowl Stadium, built in 1936, has been well maintained, with the unfortunate exception of the playing surface. Still, it is more than 70 years old and in places it shows. This place cost more than a billion dollars to build and is still brand spanking new.
For me, there is great emotional symmetry to being here. This game against the Philadelphia Eagles is the last regular season home game in the first season at the new stadium. I had an opportunity to say good-bye to the old facility a year ago, and I made it here just under the wire. There are people who have already experienced eight or nine games in this facility and they have grown accustomed to its modern wonders. Not me. I’m thrilled to be here.
The trip home should take about three and a half hours, which will seem like nothing more than a commute after the trip from Central Florida. I just hope I can stay awake long enough to make it.
Friday, January 01, 2010
A Sloppy Loss
(Orlando)- The new year got off to a sloppy start for the LSU football team and its fans. Organizers of the Capitol One Bowl put a great face on the stadium and the field.
It was all for show. Thanks to overnight rains and a torrential thunderstorm that soaked central Florida until about a half-hour before kickoff, the playing surface was basically a bog. 
LSU lost to Penn State, 19-17. Remarkably, the Tigers have not won an outdoor post-season game since the 1997 Independence Bowl. They've won two national championships since then, but both games were played in the Louisiana Superdome. They also have a Sugar Bowl win over Illinois during that period, in the same venue.
The field conditions were so bad, more than one LSU player described the surface as "the worst field I've ever played on." The Tigers were clearly victims, robbed of the ability to use their superior speed, particularly going sideline to sideline.
In the big scheme of things, the outcome of the game and the factors that led to it are not that significant. There was no championship hanging in the balance. It was simply an interesting, competitive intersectional match-up.
I still enjoy watching a good football game, and this was will go down as one of my favorites. 
The conditions will be discussed for years to come, no doubt becoming part of LSU football lore. Joe Paterno was roaming the sidelines and I got to see him in person. I even got to ask him a question. It wasn't a particularly clever question, but I made eye contact with him and he responded. Just like the final score, the quality of the query will become insignificant in the quagmire of the day. I'm just glad I was here.
The New Year is Here and Where am I?
(Orlando) - I welcomed a new year (and most people seem to believe a new decade) with a group of guys, all but one of us married and away from our wives. We were hanging around in a hotel lobby, where the staffers were handing out festive headwear. 
Media people from around Louisiana have gathered here to chronicle the exploits of the LSU football team, but New Year's Eve is New Year's Eve, so why not enjoy a little revelry? Most of us know one another reasonably well, having spent time together around events like this one. The highlight of the evening was an impressive fireworks show offered by our hotel.
Imagine a group of a dozen or so guys, ranging in age from mid-20's to 50 or so, hanging around a pool at midnight watching fireworks light up the night framed by palm trees. It was fun in a lonely kind of way.
There has been a lot of talk about owing our families a trip. Guilt: something else we all seem to share. Later today, there is a football game. In that setting, we will all know how to behave.
