“Garrett Hartley… good snap, good hold, he missed it to the left”

We continued the nothing-to-do-weekend that we started the night before by spending the entire Saturday grazing on the assortment of meats I picked up from Rare Cuts on Nashville Avenue, and watching college football. Erin started off the lazy, grazing Saturday with her version of hash browns that included a spicy chaurice sausage and sunny side up eggs.

After brunch, I recreated my TV setup from the opening game of the NFL season, and resumed my long-lost position in the recliner. At one point, I even had a game streaming on my laptop in addition to the two games already on the TVs. As soon as the Alabama-Arkansas (come on Ryan Mallet) game was over, I began throwing something together for supper while Erin yelled out the 1st quarter updates of the Georgia-Mississippi State game. In an attempt to go back to the future, we tried to reinvent a Veal Scallopini recipe that we both liked before. The only disappointment with the recipe was that we didn’t make enough, and that, apparently, the combination of Madeira and cream creates some sort of sleep aide that resembles Ambien. After the last few bites, I could barely even make it to the end of the LSU game.

I awoke the next morning at 6:45 and realized that my alarm never went off, and my ride to the Falcons- Saints game would be here in 15 minutes. I quickly threw on my black and gold and jumped in the car for the ride downtown to the tailgate on Rampart. I knew I was about to partake in some serious tailgating, but I wasn’t ready for the trailer that had been retrofitted with 2 portable 8 foot grilles, 2 10 gallon propane tanks and lines, a water tank with a pressurized hose, more 6x9s than a 10th grader’s first car, and enough storage shelves to stow away every utensil or spice you could ever need.

I also knew that there was going to be some serious tailgating fare. I watched as the tailgaters injected 7 “dirty birds” (a special for the Falcons game) with their homemade marinade, and then hung them from the hand fabricated racks in a U.S. Army issued M59 field range.


While the chickens were slowly roasting, the tailgaters mixed up an absurdly large batch of dirty rice which included 8 pounds of seasoned ground beef. Also on the menu, two things that are singularly delicious, but when combined, takes on a life of its own- rotel cheese dip and crab boiled potatoes.

After spilling a plate all over my feet, I grabbed a few slices of hog’s head cheese and a mini muffuletta and started the journey to The Dome.

After parading through Allegro and the newly renovated Champion’s Square, and crossing the Bridge of Death we made it into the dome just in time for Drew Brees’ entrance.

Even though The Dome was a raucous crowd, it proved to not be enough to force Hartley’s kick through the uprights (I’m still not sure about the decision to kick on 1st down either). Downtrodden and beaten, I gathered my free Saints flag from my first trip to an NFL game, returned home, and crashed for 4 hours.