jazzykeb
01-14-2007, 04:23 PM
post from Paul Sanchez on his My Space blog:
Who Dat
Who 'dat sat 'dey gonna beat 'dem Saints?Give someone a Who Dat? this week. You don't have to be a Saints fan, you don't even have to be a football fan. You can be a fan of the indefatigable human spirit, Who Dat?You can be a fan of hope in the face of despair, Who Dat? You can be a fan of choosing to live hand in hand with and in the face of absurdity, Who Dat? Who dat waiting for insurance money? Who dat waiting for Road Home help? Who dat rebuilding the city on their own with guts and hope for tomorrow? Who dat coming back in the face of government apathy and the most blantantly profiteering bunch of Lame Ducks and suckling ducklings in the history of America? Who dat say dey gonna beat dis city? Keep New Orleans in your heart and give someone a Who Dat this week. The folks there deserve to be happy and have a party after a year and a half of daily uncertainty. For being pioneers in a modern age. For being. Give some one a Who Dat this week.On another note I saw Reggie Bush take a hit in the first quarter that reminded me why I like to watch football not play it. His name was Gerald Haynes. When I was a sophmore in high school at Redemptorist in the Irish Channel, I ill-advisedly went out for the football team with my best friend Mario. We were each 5' 3" and weighed in at a strapping 125 lbs., neither of us should have been there which we quickly figured out. We decided to skip practice one day, drink cokes and hang out with girls after school. Great idea, we had a great time until the team bus rolled by and everyone spotted us. We stupidly decided to show up at practice the next day Where the coach did what coaches do in that situation. He had the team line up in single file and come at us one by one for us to take hits ad get knocked down. I did fine for the first few hits, took them and waited for more. Then Gerald Haynes hit me, hit me so hard my arms and legs took a few seconds to catch up to my body. I picked up my arms and legs as I rolled end over end landing on my feet it seems because I don't remember standing up or looking back at the practice field. I walked through the St. Thomas Housing Projects, still wearing my uniform, all the way back to school and my guitar. I guess in a way I owe Gerald a big thank you because I've seen the world with my guitar and all because he made me see stars. So where ever you are, thanks Gerald. Who Dat?
Who Dat
Who 'dat sat 'dey gonna beat 'dem Saints?Give someone a Who Dat? this week. You don't have to be a Saints fan, you don't even have to be a football fan. You can be a fan of the indefatigable human spirit, Who Dat?You can be a fan of hope in the face of despair, Who Dat? You can be a fan of choosing to live hand in hand with and in the face of absurdity, Who Dat? Who dat waiting for insurance money? Who dat waiting for Road Home help? Who dat rebuilding the city on their own with guts and hope for tomorrow? Who dat coming back in the face of government apathy and the most blantantly profiteering bunch of Lame Ducks and suckling ducklings in the history of America? Who dat say dey gonna beat dis city? Keep New Orleans in your heart and give someone a Who Dat this week. The folks there deserve to be happy and have a party after a year and a half of daily uncertainty. For being pioneers in a modern age. For being. Give some one a Who Dat this week.On another note I saw Reggie Bush take a hit in the first quarter that reminded me why I like to watch football not play it. His name was Gerald Haynes. When I was a sophmore in high school at Redemptorist in the Irish Channel, I ill-advisedly went out for the football team with my best friend Mario. We were each 5' 3" and weighed in at a strapping 125 lbs., neither of us should have been there which we quickly figured out. We decided to skip practice one day, drink cokes and hang out with girls after school. Great idea, we had a great time until the team bus rolled by and everyone spotted us. We stupidly decided to show up at practice the next day Where the coach did what coaches do in that situation. He had the team line up in single file and come at us one by one for us to take hits ad get knocked down. I did fine for the first few hits, took them and waited for more. Then Gerald Haynes hit me, hit me so hard my arms and legs took a few seconds to catch up to my body. I picked up my arms and legs as I rolled end over end landing on my feet it seems because I don't remember standing up or looking back at the practice field. I walked through the St. Thomas Housing Projects, still wearing my uniform, all the way back to school and my guitar. I guess in a way I owe Gerald a big thank you because I've seen the world with my guitar and all because he made me see stars. So where ever you are, thanks Gerald. Who Dat?