So it’s become annual tradition for my dad and I to go to a Packers away game. It was a little unusual since step-mom didn’t get to come, and since Nola is my favorite city, I think I may have killed my dad trying to jampack all the things I love about that place into three days. We were a bit more tame than normal (but we did get Dad to stay out till 1 the first night), but I think it was still an ok time.
Minus the Packers loss, and the not so nice Saints fans.
Anyway, we all got there Saturday afternoon. Promptly after picking Dad up from the airport, we headed straight to our favorite drive-thru daiquiri shop, then headed to the hotels to check in . After checking in, we met up with Lindsey and her boyfriend for some beers, oysters and football.
We went to the Blind Pelican, and got to sit outside on the patio, because the weather was so beautiful. When it was time for the game, we headed back toward the Central Business District and went into Walk-ons, where there were a million TVs so we could all watch our games. The Royals for dad, (as well as Auburn for him, but mostly for me and Bennett) and Alabama for Linds. We ordered a million beers, and I had some of the most amazing cheese fries known to man.
Once we had some food on our stomachs, we headed into the quarter for Hurricanes and people watching.
The next morning, we went to Elizabeths’ for brunch (had praline bacon and mimosas!), then walked back into the quarter for some beer at Lafitte’s, then the piano bar at Pat O’s. After all that, we went back to the hotel to make our go cups for the game. We walked to the Superdome, promptly watched the Packers get their asses beat, went for pizza, and then went back to the hotel room.
My dad said we walked ten miles on Sunday. Duh. That’s how you get to eat and drink whatever the eff you want. The next morning we dropped Dad off at the airport, went to get brunch, walked around the quarter/French Market, and went home.
So if the Packers wouldn’t have lost, and we didn’t force Dad to walk three miles for pizza after the game, I think everyone would have been pretty happy.
It wasn’t the best trip in the world (thanks a bunch Aaron Rodgers), but it still counts for the tradition! Maybe next year we can pick a better game — one where the fans aren’t so mean, and they have a shot of winning.
But at least I had praline bacon.
And requested the loudest song that people sang along with at the piano bar. Thank you very much Don McLean.