By Mark Lorando, The Times-Picayune

This is what he will hear:

“DREWWWWWW!!! OHMYGOD!!! OHMYGOD!!! RIGHT HERE, DREW!!! I’M OPEN!!! THROW ME SOMETHING, DREW!!! I LOVE YOU, DREWWWWWW!!! WHO DAT, BABY!!! WILL YOU MARRY ME, DREW?!?!?!? I KNOW YOU’RE MARRIED, SO AM I, WE CAN WORK THAT OUT!!! REALLY!!! MY HUSBAND WON’T MIND, HE’S GOT A CRUSH ON YOU, TOO!!! DREWWWWWW!!! DREWWWWWW!!! OHMYGOD, DID YOU SEE THAT?!?!?!? HE THREW IT RIGHT TO ME!!! YOU DA MAN, DREWWWWWW!!!”

But that’s not exactly what the Who Dats on the parade route want to say.

It’s hard to be eloquent when a float is rolling past. So little time, so much pressure — you wait seven hours on a curb in the hopes of catching something, ANYTHING, directly from the hand of Super Bowl XLIV MVP and Bacchus 2010 Drew Brees. How can you possibly be expected to get his attention AND snag a flying doubloon AND put everything you’re feeling into words in just a few, fleeting seconds?

You can’t. So Drew is going to have to read between the lines. He’s going to have to know that when we say all of that, what we really want to tell him is this:

Thank you.

Thank you for bringing your broken shoulder to town and rebuilding yourself right alongside us.

Thank you for teaching us how to finish strong.

Read the rest of the story here.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 14th, 2010 at 1:21 pm and is filed under Saints News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.