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New Orleans Saints: An Emotional History

I wanted to be Danny Abramowicz when I was a kid. If I were a kid today, I'd want to be Marques Colston. Danny was Marques without any speed or size, but lots of heart, skill, and fight. What great players kids get to idolize today. What a long incoming dream it's been. Saints fans, if you've got any game footage at all from years past, please convert it and put it on the intertubes. There's really very little QUALITY footage floating around. Even recent stuff is often grainy. (NFL Films is letting it all rot in their vaults, rather than opening up and giving back.) There are so many plays and players I would like to have stuck in this vid, but couldn't. I can still see Conrad Dobler leading a sweep, limping, and wearing a monster cast on his arm, but only in my memory. And Iron Head in the playoffs failing to get a yard on a fourth-and-one against a single Falcon db. Bobby Hebert threading a TD to the only spot it could have been caught. Billy Kilmer going into the endzone, vertical but upside down. Doug Atkins shambling off the field after a loss in front of a kid (me) too shy to ask for an autograph or say, "Great game, Doug." Anyway, I did what I could given the structure of another great song by Explosions in the Sky. This one's called The Only Moment We Were Alone, off a pretty good album called The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place. Wonderful band if you like instrumental rock. All sounds and sights belong to their originators. Crank it loud.