I wasn’t raised in Louisiana, but in my five years there, I was adopted by the amazing people of the state. By the people who only observe two seasons — football season and crawfish season.

I didn’t watch professional football growing up. My family didn’t have a team we supported, and neither did my city. I watched the Super Bowl solely for the commercials.

Something changed when I moved to Louisiana.

My junior year, Hurricane Katrina blew through New Orleans, leaving the entire city in shambles. And, again, something changed within me as I watched and helped the city rebuild itself. I started watching the Saints and hoped against hope that the team could invigorate a city in desperate need of a pick-me-up.

Since then, I’ve cheered on the Saints because, like the city they hail from, they have risen up against the odds. They’ve fought. And they’ve made so many people proud.

I watched the pregame show on ESPN this morning and sat on the couch with tears streaming down my cheeks as announcers showed clips of the city during Katrina and afterward. During the Saints’ season where they played their games elsewhere because the Superdome was damaged during the storm. During the first game back in the Superdome. And during this magical season.

I don’t know how to describe it, other than I’m in awe and cannot even grasp what unfolded tonight. It just seems so far-fetched. And if it’s far-fetched for me, an adopted Louisianan, you KNOW it has to be unbelievable for those fans who have been cheering for the Saints throughout the years.

The Saints won the freaking Super Bowl.

And I cried. A lot.

The only thing now is that I wish I was celebrating in the Crescent City tonight.

Good game, y’all, and good night.