Completely unrelated to the fact that I’ve called San Francisco my home for several years now, I’ve been a 49ers fan since I was about 9 years old. At the tail end of the Joe Montana era, I started watching football with my dad and decided that the best team at that time (and all of the 80s) would be my favorite team too. Somehow I was able to weather a devastating playoff loss that resulted in the end of Montana’s career in San Francisco and the end of the Bill Walsh dynasty. Given that my reasons for latching onto the 49ers were tenuous at best, I find it quite remarkable that I’m still a diehard fan to this day. There’s something about seeing those red and gold uniforms on a sunny Sunday afternoon that will always make me happy.
My dad grew up in North Jersey, so he was a New York Giants fan his whole life. My oldest brother Derek was a Cowboys fan when he was young, which created some interesting rivalries between the three of us.
(Interesting sidenote: when my youngest brother was born, my parents had run out of ideas for names, so they asked me and Derek for suggestions. I had a classmate named Adam and I always liked that name, so that was my pick. Derek was obsessed with the Cowboys and their quarterback Troy Aikman, so he picked Troy. Hence, my youngest brother became Adam Troy Getz.)
Nevertheless, both my dad and my brother (as well as the rest of my immediate family) became pretty big Baltimore Ravens fans once the team moved from Cleveland and started to play well (certainly better than the Browns have been capable of in recent memory). I even adopted the Ravens as my secondary team and I’ve been to plenty of home games since my dad is a season ticket holder. Our seats are precariously located at the very top of M&T Bank Stadium; only a chain link fence behind the row prevents inebriated football fans from plunging to the pavement below.
When both teams made their respective championship games last year, my brother and I made a pact that if they both made it to the Super Bowl, we would go. Instead, the exact opposite happened, and the world had to suffer through a terrible Giants-Patriots rematch. This year, our two teams made the championship games again, so again the pact was confirmed. At the end of the day, with both the Niners and Ravens prevailing, we began the search for second-hand game tickets and flights to New Orleans. Being a lifelong football fan and a Ravens season ticket holder, my dad also expressed interest in going, so all three of us started making travel plans together the day after the teams were set. Unfortunately for us and a lot of other people, that is also the most expensive time to make travel plans to go to the Super Bowl.
Airfare to New Orleans for each of us was about $1,300 round trip, though I still don’t understand why a flight from Philadelphia would cost the same as a flight from San Francisco. After some inventive searching, my dad found an airport in Alexandria (Louisiana, not Virginia) that was about two hundred miles from New Orleans. Collectively, our airfare costs dropped about $2,600, so it was a pretty easy decision to make.
Another reason that this trip was so appealing is that we have relatives in NOLA: my cousin and his girlfriend live in the Garden District and my aunt lives in the French Quarter for most of the year. My aunt also works in real estate in the quarter, which we knew would come in handy. About a week before our trip, her real estate agency got its hands on a condo in the quarter that we could occupy for the weekend before it was to be put on the market. The rate – $1,500 for four nights – was very reasonable, especially considering other places in the quarter cost the same amount per night. The condo was also in a very desirable location: two blocks from the French Market, two blocks from Jackson Square, and two blocks from Bourbon Street.
After flying into Alexandria International Airport (which, contrary to its name, does not have any international flights), we rented a car and went on a road trip though Louisiana. It was a great opportunity to catch up and have some guy time, especially since the perfectly straight highways and flat, dull surroundings didn’t offer much visual stimulation. We arrived in the quarter late Thursday night, dropped our stuff off at the condo and headed out to Lafitte’s (one of the oldest bars in America) for a drink.
The next few days were filled with warm weather and sunshine, wandering around the quarter, watching some of the live CBS, ESPN, and NFL Network broadcasts, spending time with family, consuming ample amounts of food and drink, keeping an eye on game ticket prices, and stalking athletes and celebrities as they enjoyed the festivities too. Off the top of my head, I can remember seeing Patrick Willis, Jerry Rice, Arian Foster, Kurt Warner, Eddie George, and Rampage Jackson, not to mention all of the sportscaster personalities. In fact, on Saturday afternoon, we camped out in the atrium of the Ravens’ hotel and watched former players wander by while we sipped on free Hennessy cocktails.
Here are the three of us with my cousin Blake at the river walk:
My dad had been keeping an eye on ticket prices the entire weekend, constantly checking several web sites and contacting a few local dealers. Prices were dropping steadily as the game approached and we finally decided to pull the trigger Saturday afternoon. We had considered waiting until Sunday morning or afternoon before purchasing in the hopes that sellers’ panic would result in a sharp drop in prices, but decided that the uncertainty wasn’t worth it, especially since we needed a block of three tickets, which is an odd number (pun intended) to request.
We ended up getting tickets through Vivid Seats, which had slightly lower prices than Ticketmaster’s TicketExchange. On Sunday afternoon, we snagged our tickets from their booth and joined the parade of fans who had begun the slow, pleasant stroll to the Superdome.
After passing through security and experiencing the extraordinary relief of knowing that our second-hand tickets were not forgeries, we began wandering around the terrace outside of the Superdome, which was surprisingly calm. As we were taking in the sights, a photographer from the Oakland Tribune stopped us, took about a hundred photos of us, and asked us why opposing fans were mingling in such good spirits. After explaining that this was a family affair, she recorded our names and hometowns and we appeared in one of the Super Bowl photo galleries. (She’s actually a Jersey girl and that connection probably cemented our inclusion in the newspaper.)
We went inside the stadium and began to wander around the various levels, taking in the venue and the slow buildup to one of the world’s most popular spectacles. Unlike the quarter, which felt dominated by Ravens fans, the fans at the game were split about 50-50 between the two teams. And then there were the suits.
The NFL gives a lot of the Super Bowl tickets to corporate sponsors. Most of them probably sell or give away their tickets to actual fans, but some of these sponsors go to the game. They were really easy to identify because they were the only ones not wearing purple or red. Some wore street clothes, some wore generic Super Bowl gear, and some actually wore suits. The couple sitting in front of us was a perfect example. During the game, the guy used his phone to research pheasant hunting and to look at pictures of pickup trucks. The trophy girlfriend/wife looked incredibly bored when she wasn’t doing her makeup. The two of them barely spoke to each other the entire time and left long before the game was decided. Fucking suits.
Apathetic spectators aside, the game was exciting and memorable, especially when most of the stadium lights went out in the third quarter. It took a surprisingly long amount of time before there was any kind of announcement. In the meantime, people patiently (or not so patiently) waited in their seats and the wave went around the stadium about a half dozen times. My brother ventured down to the bathrooms and reported back that they were pitch black and everyone was doing their business by the lights of their smartphones.
Truth be told, the biggest issue with the outage was that the air conditioning fans shut off, so the air in the dome slowly became warm and stagnant. This would be a problem with the general population, let alone smelly football fans, let alone 77,000 of them. The unmistakable stench of body odor became non-trivial within twenty minutes. After all the power was restored, everything went back to normal, including the smell in the air, which was quite a relief.
The energy from the crowd was quite unlike anything I’ve experienced at any other game. Before, during, and after every play, at least half the crowd was cheering like crazy. During the 49ers comeback in the second half, I screamed myself light-headed a few times and nearly had a panic attack. I probably burned an insane amount of calories from having an elevated heartrate for such an extended period of time, even though I was staying in one place. All three of us realized we should have brought paper bags for breathing.
While the final outcome was suboptimal for Niners fans, it was still a wild and unforgettable game, which is what a Super Bowl should be. It was especially nice that there was no unpleasantness in the stands and no bad blood among fans afterwards. A lot of the Ravens fans were quite gracious as I think everyone realized that a single play could have changed the final result of the game.
After most of the fans had vacated the stadium and I slowly returned to resting heartrate, I was able to concede that my team would have to settle for #2 this year:
After watching most of the post-game festivities, we exited the stadium and made our way to the quarter. Now that the excitement was over, we all realized that we were starving, so we grabbed some pizza and beer and wandered along Bourbon for a while, observing its usual shitshow. We decided to head back to the condo, relax on the porch for a while, and enjoy a nice N’awlins evening with the occasional distant sounds of cheering or yelling. The next morning we had our road trip back to Alexandria and hopped on our separate flights back to our respective coasts.
New Orleans is the perfect city for a Super Bowl. The weather was gorgeous (70 degrees and sunny), there is an abundance of culture in the quarter, and everything is easily within walking distance. Locals and tourists alike were in good spirits and there was always something to do, watch, eat, or drink. I’ve been there four times now and half of those times were on random weekends with no major events; I’ve never had anything less than a really great time.
Football has always been a bonding point for my family, regardless of where we live or what life changes we go through, which is what made this trip so special. All the stars aligned perfectly and it was a fantastic weekend. We knew from the outset that someone would be going home disappointed, but we also knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we couldn’t not go. I will definitely keep all the memories from this trip for as long as I live.
