by Drew Brees
We kicked a field goal on our next drive to make it 10–3, but we knew we needed more momentum going into halftime. We got the ball back and methodically drove down to their three yard line. We had first-and-goal from there after a big catch from Marques Colston, and I figured we would punch it into the end zone. Three plays later we were still a yard and a half short. Sean made a critical decision. On fourth down, instead of attempting the field goal, he took the risk to try for a touchdown. The Colts defense stopped us short. We all agreed with the call—we just didn’t get the job done.
Now the momentum shifted to the Colts. We’d had the chance to tie it up, and instead we came away with no points. There were less than two minutes left in the half, and Peyton Manning is one of the best in the league at the two-minute drill. Surprisingly, Indianapolis wasn’t able to convert; our defense held strong. We still had three time-outs, and we called one after both their second and third downs. They went three and out, and we had the ball with thirty-five seconds left. We drove downfield and hit a field goal as time expired, swinging the momentum back in our direction. We needed that shift to give us the guts to pull off what we were planning for the second half.
All week Sean had been talking about the onside kick play. “It’s not a matter of if we’re going to call an onside kick; it’s when.” So when he called it in the locker room at halftime, we knew it was coming. We were ready. Sean wasn’t scared to call an aggressive play like that himself, and he also instilled in us the confidence that we could pull it off. He not only tells you, “We’re gonna do it,” but he also says, “It’s gonna work.” When the second half started, it gave us an edge. They don’t even know what’s coming.
Our special teams executed the kick well, and there was a mad scramble for the ball at the bottom of the pile. There was never a thought in our minds of What happens if we don’t get the ball? We were getting that ball. It was a scrum all right. But we got it.
When we get an opportunity like that, our offense knows we have to turn that recovery into points. And that’s exactly what we did. I hit several passes right in the middle of their zone, and Pierre Thomas took a screen pass and did what he does best—bobbing and weaving through defenders and breaking tackles before finally leaping into the end zone. We pulled ahead, 13–10.
The energy had shifted in our direction. And best of all, we had kept the Colts offense on the sidelines.
There was still a lot of football left to be played, though. With a combination of passing and running, Indianapolis put together a ten-play drive and went ahead 17–13 with a little more than six minutes left in the third quarter.
Now it was our job to respond, and we drove down for a field goal to bring us within one point, 17–16. The Colts mounted a drive that took them into the fourth quarter. They made a crucial fourth down and two from our forty-six, but then their drive stalled. They set up for a fifty-one-yard field goal, but the ball sailed wide left. We would be getting the ball back with pretty good field position.
With the Colts’ powerful offense, we needed to take advantage of every opportunity to score touchdowns. They had the ability to grind down the clock, and we couldn’t risk coming up short at the final gun.
We methodically moved the ball downfield with a solid mix of runs and high percentage passes. We were at the two yard line when Jeremy Shockey ran a quick slant and I stuck him right in the chest with the ball, away from the defender. He leaned across the goal line, putting us up 22–17. While you usually just go ahead and kick an extra point after scoring a touchdown, in this situation there was no question: we were going for a two-point conversion.
Sean called a sprint-out pass to the right to Lance Moore. I stepped up to the line and immediately recognized that their defense was bringing all-out pressure. Just what we wanted. After getting the snap, I took five hard steps to my right. I looked up to see Lance sprinting toward the front pylon of the end zone. My throw wasn’t perfect, but Lance made an incredible catch. Then he had the presence of mind to turn and get the ball across the goal line. As soon as he did, Colts defensive back Jacob Lacey kicked it out of his hands. The official on top of the play signaled that Lance didn’t have full control and called it incomplete.
Lance has some of the best hands on the team. I looked at him and said, “You caught it, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I caught it!”
I went to the sideline. “Coach, he caught it.”
After talking with Lance and some of the other coaches, Sean threw down the challenge flag. The replay showed that Lance had full possession of the ball and it crossed the goal line before it was dislodged. The officials reversed the ruling on the field; we were up 24–17.
That was huge. If we hadn’t scored those two points, the Colts could have taken the lead with a touchdown. Plus, the overturn of the call got us pumped up. With each play, we were feeling more and more like this was our game, like this was meant to be.
The Colts were on the march. The clock read 5:35—still enough time to come from behind. They were driving well, completing passes, getting first downs. They’d proven they could do this in the past—we’d seen Peyton Manning lead his team downfield at pivotal points and score to tie or win many times. From the sideline, I wasn’t watching the game like a spectator. I was mentally preparing what we’d do if the Colts scored a touchdown. If that happened, we would need to get the ball downfield quickly and kick a field goal to win. I rehearsed possible plays for a two-minute situation in my head as I sensed the clock winding down. Three and a half minutes to go.
Suddenly I heard an ovation, and I looked up to see Tracy Porter running toward the end zone. He had stepped in front of a pass thrown on third down and five. Boom, he caught the ball and ran it back for a touchdown. The crowd went wild. I couldn’t believe it. Our defense had done it again, and now we had a 31–17 lead.
There was still enough time on the clock for the Colts to make things interesting. At this point they could possibly score and attempt an onside kick. I would not allow myself to lose focus—I was going to be ready for whatever might happen. They mounted an incredible drive to our five yard line. On fourth and goal we stopped them with forty-four seconds to go, and the offense rushed onto the field to take one final knee and run out the clock.
As I ran out to the huddle, I looked around at the field and the stands. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that you have to take time to enjoy the moment and the fruit of your labor. Those moments don’t come very often, so when they do, you have to soak them in so you can remember them the rest of your life. We had worked too hard and the journey had been too long to let this pass. The fans were cheering louder than I’d ever heard them before. On the sideline, the guys were embracing each other and jumping up and down with joy. The Colts knew it was over. Time ran out. Our time had come. The Saints were the Super Bowl champions!
I gave all my linemen a hug—every one of them. They had given such a dominant performance. I had been sacked only one time during the whole game. You can talk about the MVP trophy all night, but without those guys doing their job, I wouldn’t have had a chance to make those plays. “I love you guys,” I said. “We did it.”
It’s those moments, those relationships, that remind you, Man, this is what it’s all about.
Back in 2006, when we’d made our failed run for the NFC championship, Joe Vitt had said, “When we win a championship together, we will walk together forever. Nobody can ever take that away from you. There will always be a special bond between the men in our locker room because we’ll know we did this together.”
He was right. No matter what happens from here on out—ten years from now, twenty, thirty, or even fifty years—we can look back to that moment and those guys who made it happen. That season will be a part of us forever.
The Baylen Moment
As soon as the game was over, there was mass chaos on the field. I was surrounded by media people ten deep. Interviewers were yelling out questions, and cameras and fla
shbulbs were going off everywhere. My first thought, though, was the guys on the other side of the ball. I respect them a lot—on and off the field—and I wanted to reach out and say, “Good game.” I found as many as I could, but the media barrage had me surrounded.
Then a camera came out of nowhere, and a voice said, “Hey, Drew, you just won the Super Bowl. What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to Disney World!” I shouted.
At that moment I was thinking about all the times in our backyard when my little brother and I were playing Wiffle ball. We reenacted this scene over and over as we were growing up. Reid would hit a home run over the back fence, and as I ran to get it, I’d yell, “Hey, Bro, you just hit a home run. What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to Disney World!” Reid would shout as he ran the bases.
You joke about that stuff as a kid, and now here I was living it. It was actually happening. It seemed completely surreal, but the whole time I tried to tell myself, Enjoy the moment. Just take it all in. And there are some images that are permanently freeze-framed in my memory. I can still see the expression on my teammates’ faces. I can picture guys hugging their wives and kissing their children. I can imagine the confetti as thick as rain. I can see fans dancing and saying, “Who dat!” And on the JumboTron are the words World Champions.
They called me onstage, and the Lombardi Trophy was brought through the gauntlet of Saints players by Len Dawson, a Purdue great and a Super Bowl champion himself. All our guys were touching the trophy as it went past. As that was happening, Brittany was fighting her way through the mayhem and heading toward me with Baylen. From up onstage, I leaned down and gave her a kiss. Then she handed Baylen to me. That was when it really hit. All those rough patches on the journey—the injury, the rehab, the hurricane, the new team—and now we were really here, Super Bowl champions.
I stood there with my little boy, and I was overwhelmed. I told Baylen how much I loved him and how much he meant to me and what an inspiration he was to me. I thought of my mom, who I believed was smiling down from heaven, and all my family and friends who were there watching.
“We did it, little boy. We did it,” I said.
He sure didn’t mind all the commotion. He just seemed to take in all the excitement and the confetti and the lights and the cheering people. Of course, he had no idea what was going on. I can’t wait to tell him what a special moment that was for his daddy—one of the greatest moments of my life.
I handed Baylen back to Brittany and gave her a kiss before stepping up for the trophy presentation. As Sean gave me the trophy, I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I kissed it and just stared at it for a while, looking at the reflections and knowing how long we’d waited to look in that mirror.
When I was told after the game that I had been named MVP, I was blown away. Up to that point I was still trying to soak in the fact that we’d won the game and the World Championship. I was humbled and grateful—I had a lot of teammates to thank for putting me in that position.
After the game Michael Irvin said to me, “You don’t realize what just happened to you.”
I didn’t understand what he was saying. “What do you mean?”
Michael has won three Super Bowls and has been part of outstanding teams. He was referring to the MVP title specifically, saying that this was a life changer. Not that I’ll look at myself differently or approach life differently, but that others perceive you in another light. Being a Super Bowl champion was my dream and my goal—it was what we’d worked so hard for. The MVP honor was just icing on the cake.
That was a great moment—for our team and for the entire city of New Orleans. Nobody would have believed after August 29, 2005, that this was possible, but here we were. Dreams had become reality. We had won the Super Bowl, and we had done it for our city and our fans. I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.
The Parade
If there’s any city that knows how to put on a parade, it’s New Orleans. In most places, the Super Bowl parade is something the winning city starts planning after the game is over. You win on Sunday, and you have a celebration in your city on Tuesday. It’s usually pretty basic: the city puts together a route, the team rides around in convertibles, and the coaches and players go up to a microphone and say a few words. The community embraces the excitement for a day and then goes on about their business. Not so in New Orleans.
It didn’t matter if we won or lost—our city was determined to have a parade for us. And in a way, they’d been preparing for the parade all year, since Mardi Gras was a week after the Super Bowl. We came home to find that many of the Mardi Gras floats had been donated for us to use in our parade. This was no cobbled-together parade of cars. We had legitimate floats to ride in—some of the best floats from each parade.
Before Katrina the population of New Orleans was about 455,000. When I came to New Orleans in 2006, we were roughly half that size. But over the next few years, people started coming back and rebuilding. At one point the estimate was that three thousand to four thousand people were coming back every month. By 2009 we were back to about 80 percent of the original population. So at the time of the parade, somewhere around 355,000 people were living in the city.
The turnout for that parade was almost a million people—about twice the population of the entire city. Who knows where they all came from—probably some from the Gulf Coast region, some from other parts of the state, and others who had been transplanted elsewhere. I heard that some fans flew to New Orleans to watch the game on TV and then stuck around for the parade. They wanted to be here to experience the homecoming, the celebration.
As exhilarating as it was to win the Super Bowl, it was just as exciting to see the sheer joy on the faces of everyone lining the streets of downtown New Orleans. This was about so much more than football. We knew it, and the fans knew it. Finally, after forty-three years, we’d accomplished something that most people thought would never happen in New Orleans. We had really pulled it off! And we’d done it together, with the help of our fans.
People screamed and cheered and sang as we passed by. But some of the most meaningful moments for me were when I made eye contact with people in the crowd and read their lips: “Thank you. We love you. Bless you, boys.” I’ve never seen an outpouring from fans that was so genuine and straight from the heart.
Not long ago I was talking with the woman who cuts my hair, and she told me about her friend who works at the New Orleans police department. She said that on the day of the parade, people were calling 911 about me. I was throwing beads to the crowd from the top of a float, and apparently people were concerned I was going to hurt myself. They thought I was walking too close to the edge, and they were worried I was going to fall off. I’m not sure many police officers would have been available to respond because every motorcycle cop in the city was there with their blue lights flashing. They were just as excited as the people on the parade route.
The plan was for the parade to last two to three hours, but it took twice that long. With such a huge crush of people, it was all we could do to inch our way through those historic streets. We started at the Superdome and wound through Howard to Lee Circle, down St. Charles, up and down Canal, and then ended at Mardi Gras World on Convention Center Boulevard.
In some areas the crowd was fifty people deep. Everywhere we went, they were singing “When the Saints Go Marching In” and chanting, “Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?” People held up signs for us that read, Bless you, boys and Greatest year of my life. I was blown away by the masses of people—young and old, from many different backgrounds and nationalities. They all rallied together over the one thing they had in common: the Saints.
Postgame Media Blitz
I wasn’t surprised by the media hype immediately following the Super Bowl, but I hadn’t been expecting it to go much beyond that evening.
The first week after the game proved to be eventful from the beginning, starting wi
th the NFL commissioner’s press conference, followed by the Disney parade in Orlando and then a trip to New York for the Late Show with David Letterman. Letterman is from Indiana, so I knew he was rooting for the Colts. But when he saw the Sports Illustrated cover with Baylen and me on the front, he really seemed to identify with that picture, being a father with a young son himself. We talked about how much a child puts your life and everything that happens to you in perspective.
By the time I got home that night it was really late, but I wasn’t able to sleep. My mind was whirling, trying to take in everything that had happened. Not long after nodding off, I woke to the sound of Brittany and Baylen enjoying a loud, music-filled breakfast. They like to play the sound track from Glee, with Brittany singing at the top of her lungs while Baylen throws food all over the floor and claps. Life is good. I came downstairs and held Brittany in my arms for a long time.
“We did it,” I said.
“I know, baby. I am so proud of you. You are so blessed—do you know that?” Then after a pause, she said, “How did you manage to win the Super Bowl and get your wife pregnant?”
I stared at her.
“That’s right. I just took a pregnancy test. Baby Brees number two was there with us at that game.”
I had no words. I held her as the tears gathered in my eyes. She was right—I am truly blessed.
Life didn’t slow down at all that week. The next adventure was my appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show with Brittany and Baylen. We weren’t sure how our little man would do flying up to Chicago the night before and then going on a live show, with all the lights and people, but he was a champ. Yet another item to check off his list of accomplishments at the age of one!
And then there was Ellen. Prior to the Super Bowl, my wife and her mom, Kathie, had been watching Ellen DeGeneres’s show, and Ellen said that when she was a kid, she lived near Tulane Stadium, where the Saints had played before the Superdome was built. The games were free after halftime, so she would go to the stadium and watch the second half. Ellen has a real attachment to the people in the New Orleans area, and she has done a lot on her program about the city’s struggles post-Katrina.
