Home Sweet Dome

Sports as refuge are a trite but true metaphor. When the world seems bleak, or violent, or depressing there is always your sports team that you can focus on for a few hours in the week that can block the outside. Perhaps since the Superdome was literally a refuge in New Orleans, the re-opening of the Saints was so meaningful. A little more than one year to the day, the NFL returned to the scene of the crime were one of the most unique cities in America was turned into a modern day Pompeii. Even the normally superficial Joe Theisman, let alone the erudite Tony Kornheiser, recognized the moment as bitter-sweet. Broken homes, businesses, and lives are still on display if one would travel through the Ninth Ward or other parts of the city. Questions of when or if the recovery could fully happen permeated Michael Wilbon's column. However despite these profound problem sports was a refuge last night. As Spike Lee put "Americans love sports," he said. "For those three hours Monday night, you're going to forget your ass is living in a FEMA trailer." The music, pomp, and celebration that marks New Orleans for the treasure that is was on full display. An emotional filled Saints victory only punctuated the party. Surely we all recognized that Reggie Bush and a rebuilt Superdome is not enough for the city. But it was an escape for those that needed it, it was a spotlight that work still needs done, it was an echo of what New Orleans used to be and it was a moment of hope that perhaps the laughter and raucous crowd that filled the Superdome would fill New Orleans again. Sports and the Saints were a bitter-sweet refuge last night, but more importantly on a night that Michael Vick was contained, Spike Lee was restrained and Tom Bensen was cheered, all things seemed possible.