Dark days in NOLA

As distance grows from last weekend, nostalgia will take over and I will reflect back with a smile. But right now I am licking fresh wounds.

I traveled to New Orleans to watch Ohio State play in the BCS Championship game. I was a deep second alternate to go, but somehow two men in front dropped out and I was presented with a ticket at face value (well, it was damn close) and a ride down. I took both.

The positives of wandering, wild days in New Orleans are plenty. The food, music, energy and pervasive vibe of this old and loud town are unmatched. Or at least unique. There was a lot of laughter, camaraderie and loud talking. Our hosts in the Bayou were gracious and proud.

But. I was under a cloud from the start. I thought traveling to the college football championship was a good thing. A once in a lifetime thing. I was corrected. My girlfriend was not happy, feeling my decision to go down was selfish and over-indulgent. My parents thought it ridiculous and stupid, and showered me with shame. And my work was apathetic - they are Chicago boys. They don't care about college football or even knew the game was being played. All they knew was that it was Monday and time to work.

I went anyway. There was defiance in my travels. I was determined to do New Orleans THE RIGHT WAY. I was not going to be another chump at a touristy bar, swaying in a puddle of urine. I was going to swap stories with true creoles and argue with a gypsy. And it was not a bad performance. We ate alligator, rabbit, craw fish and all sorts of bowls filled with Cajun delights. We hit a swamp tour. We toured the city. We went to local jazz bars that did not have a Bourbon St. address.

But. I have reached a point in my life where comfort is more important than partying. A 12-hour car drive is too long. Sharing a stale, dinky hotel room with 3 other men is too gross. Partying anywhere, let alone New Orleans, for 4 straight days is too much. I was stressed and stretched and manic. My mood swings were distinct and violent - in the morning I was unreachable and full of venom. By mid day, I was relaxed, introspective and shy. In the evening, I was the mayor of smile town. And in the morning, back again.

The game was a blur. High energy at the beginning. And then the slow slide to doom. Until the Big 10 gets much, much better, Ohio State (or any team from that conference) will always lose these games. They just are not battle-tested. LSU plays in nasty scuffles against tough opponents every single week. They can handle adversity and playing from behind. Not OSU. The second things started going bad, it was over. And there it is.

The day after the question was why. Why do I funnel so much of my energies towards a silly football team filled with over-sized college boys that I don't know? Why do I subject myself to such a debilitating physical and financial assault?

When you lose, it all seems folly. And maybe it is. And I tell myself that I will never again, ever, subject myself to such a trip as long as I live. And if the Buckeyes make it to Miami next year for the 'ship (they could, because they are young and their schedule will still be weak... except for a trip to USC in September)... you can count me out. I'll catch it on the television.

But nostalgia is a funny thing. By next month, all I will remember from NOLA will be horns and jambalaya and large rum drinks under the sweet southern sky. Another trip to the 'ship? Hmmmmmm... maybe THIS time it will be different...