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Now the Saints are going to the Super Bowl®. Governor Jindal proclaimed this week Who Dat Nation Week, and Who Dat t-shirts are flying off the shelves in New Orleans as well as in Florida, where the Big Game® will be played.
The NFL, in its capacity as agent for the member teams, sent out cease and desist letters in both locales, asserting ownership by the Saints of, among other trademarks, Who Dat.
Mistake. Seemingly every elected official in New Orleans defended the shirt sellers culminating with Sen. David Vitter (R-La.) (yes, that Senator Vitter) who wrote the NFL to indicate that he was printing up his own “Who Dat say we can’t print WHO Dat” shirts.
Practice pointer: try to avoid situations where an alleged patron of prostitutes can take a holier-than-thou stance with regard to your client.

See the full article from “Huffington Post (blog)”

4 The cute factor could go way down — We all love the Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet, but CBS should buy the rights to it. Then air it before the game and have Mike Vick play the referee. If he snaps at one of the canines, the NFL should ban him for life. If he keeps his cool, we’ll let him suit up for the Bills or Rams — not sure which outcome is worse.
5 Let us hear — Mike up the players. The most fun we’ve ever had watching Peyton Manning wasn’t in the AFC championship when he carved up the Jets midway through the game. It was when NFL Films caught him cursing out Jeff Saturday in a regular-season game. Of course, we had to wait weeks for that to surface. Just give it to us live.
6 ‘The Hangover,’ NFL edition — Uh, put it in Vegas. Why has this not happened yet? It would be especially beneficial in a game with a huge underdog. After a week of strippers, booze and nonstop gambling by the heavy favorites, we’d have a level playing field come Super Bowl Sunday.

See the full article from “Philadelphia Metro”

They came in frocks, miniskirts and flowing purple robes; in fishnet tights, high heels and feather boas; hulking XXL-sized men revealing voluminous midriffs and adjusting lopsided boobs as they minced and sashayed from the Superdome to the French Quarter. They chanted the war cry of their beloved football team: “Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say they gonna beat them Saints?” Crowds of onlookers packed the streets, whooping in delight.
Mardi Gras has come early to New Orleans this year. Life has been one riotous, non-stop celebration since January 24, when the Saints reached the Super Bowl for the first time in their 43-year history with a last-gasp victory over the Minnesota Vikings.
From the tablecloths in its Cajun restaurants to the tassels of its strippers’ bikinis, the city is decked out in the team’s black and gold colours. Its musicians have composed dozens of songs in their honour. Priests wear Saints shirts in place of their vestments and give thanks for the team in their churches. Umpteen improvised versions of When the Saints Go Marching In blast from bars, stores and car speakers. Truly, the good times are rolling again.

See the full article from “Times Online”