If there is, I know who watched the Saints take down the Patriots in a true statement-making game: My late father-in-law, Tommy Morris, Sr., who passed away in ’05 after enduring almost 40 frustrating and futile years of Saints-fandom.
Papaw with his granddaughter Ann, his last Christmas '04 with no Saints post-season heroics to celebate
All the years I knew him, he was the quintessential, long-suffering Saints fan. Sunday afternoon routines revolved around the Saints game, which inevitably and invariably involved watching the game amid fussing, fuming, grumbling and groaning: More often than not, the Saints just weren’t that good. And even in rare seasons when they made the Playoffs, they never succeeded at that level.
But from week to week, season to season, he was right back in front of the TV, ready to take the next dose of bitterness: blowing an early lead by falling apart in the second half, losing in the fourth by a pick six or a fumble, or just getting blown out by a superior team. Seems like failure was the perennial destiny for PaPaw Morris’s Saints.
So he missed out, at least in his earthly sojourn, on this super-sensational season the Saints have enjoyed so far. Sarah’s remarked any number of times this fall as we watch the Saints do to other teams what other teams used to do to the Saints, “I sure wish Daddy could have lived to see this!” We repeated that wish Monday night as “the Brees and friends” blew New England out of the Super Dome.
Pierre Thomas gallops to six against the Pats Mon. night. (Photo from NOSaints website)
But if heaven is the kind of place I believe it is, I don’t find it’s inconsistent with scripture to suspect that Papaw Morris was looking on Monday, probably with a 50-yard line seat in a luxury sky box in heaven, smiling down on the Saints and on us. It’ll be nice to join him one day up there in that sky box. Meanwhile, we’ll enjoy the simple earthly pleasure of our team’s success, imagining him cheering his black and gold right along with us.
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