Buddy Diliberto was a Purple Heart Korean War veteran, a correspondent for The Stars and Stripes, and a New Orleans sportscasting icon. It was a mournful day, that January day in 2005, when Buddy unexpectedly left New Orleans to take up residence in the big arena in the sky.
Buddy had that "Yat" accent from "da Parish," and loved the Saints like no one else. He was also their sharpest, most outspoken critic, often from the broadcasting booth.
He was the guy who came up with the less-than-flattering team nickname, "the Ain'ts," and was among the first to sport the famous paper bag with eyeholes over his head to depict "the embarrassed fan." One season, out of pure frustration with the Saints' dismal performance, he declared that if the Saints ever made it to the Super Bowl, he'd don a dress, march to the Quarter, and sashay down Bourbon Street.
Yesterday, with the blessing of Buddy's family, and the assistance of Bobby Hebert (the "Cajun Cannon") who quarterbacked the Saints and succeeded Buddy at the microphone, thousands of men (plus a number of women and a few Elvises!) made good on that promise with the "Buddy D Dress Parade!"
They left, en masse, from the Superdome and headed toward the Quarter. Some marched in a precision dance team group, some pranced as "Buddy and Bobby's Brawds." Some just second-lined toward the Quarter, gleefully pumping black-and-gold umbrellas into the air, and shouting, "Who Dat! Who Dat! Who Dat sayin' dey gonna beat dem Saints!"
Men in dresses marching through New Orleans. You're smirking, you say? After all, it is New Orleans where Southern Decadence takes over Labor Day weekend.
Heh. These were mostly straight guys, helped with the intricacies of their costumes by wives, girlfriends, and daughters! Guys who had a little trouble keeping pace while wearing those spiked and stacked heels. Guys who learned how chilly one can get when wearing pantyhose instead of slacks on a breezy day. (Parading gay guys in New Orleans already know all that stuff and accept that, often, one must sacrifice comfort in order to accommodate fashion.)
Not that Buddy's Brawds were exactly "fashionable!"
But they were joyous and happy and ready for Super Saints Sunday.
They were also a little tipsy.
That may continue for the rest of the week, through the Saints Welcome Home parade next week!
Who Dat!!!
(Check out pics and videos here. More available here, but there are a couple of ads for a lawyer on this one.)
Buddy had that "Yat" accent from "da Parish," and loved the Saints like no one else. He was also their sharpest, most outspoken critic, often from the broadcasting booth.
He was the guy who came up with the less-than-flattering team nickname, "the Ain'ts," and was among the first to sport the famous paper bag with eyeholes over his head to depict "the embarrassed fan." One season, out of pure frustration with the Saints' dismal performance, he declared that if the Saints ever made it to the Super Bowl, he'd don a dress, march to the Quarter, and sashay down Bourbon Street.
Yesterday, with the blessing of Buddy's family, and the assistance of Bobby Hebert (the "Cajun Cannon") who quarterbacked the Saints and succeeded Buddy at the microphone, thousands of men (plus a number of women and a few Elvises!) made good on that promise with the "Buddy D Dress Parade!"
They left, en masse, from the Superdome and headed toward the Quarter. Some marched in a precision dance team group, some pranced as "Buddy and Bobby's Brawds." Some just second-lined toward the Quarter, gleefully pumping black-and-gold umbrellas into the air, and shouting, "Who Dat! Who Dat! Who Dat sayin' dey gonna beat dem Saints!"
Men in dresses marching through New Orleans. You're smirking, you say? After all, it is New Orleans where Southern Decadence takes over Labor Day weekend.
Heh. These were mostly straight guys, helped with the intricacies of their costumes by wives, girlfriends, and daughters! Guys who had a little trouble keeping pace while wearing those spiked and stacked heels. Guys who learned how chilly one can get when wearing pantyhose instead of slacks on a breezy day. (Parading gay guys in New Orleans already know all that stuff and accept that, often, one must sacrifice comfort in order to accommodate fashion.)
Not that Buddy's Brawds were exactly "fashionable!"
But they were joyous and happy and ready for Super Saints Sunday.
They were also a little tipsy.
That may continue for the rest of the week, through the Saints Welcome Home parade next week!
Who Dat!!!
(Check out pics and videos here. More available here, but there are a couple of ads for a lawyer on this one.)
Check out a fellow Who Datter's excellent post at Our Little World! It reprints a very "educational" letter in today's Times-Picayune.
Aiiieee! I clicked the link! My EYES! (heh)
ReplyDeleteWell, OK, Moogie. If'n ya say so. We do it jes a LIL bit different in Dee-troit when we win the Stanley Cup. Just sayin'.
veriword: protat. A Who Dat professional. Or a professional kitty - you choose.
Heh! Moogie, I saw the videos of Bobby Hebert this morning on a local blog. I thought that was good of 'em to honor Buddy's memory.
ReplyDeleteThe first I ever heard of Southern Decadence was from Shirley Q. Liquor. My wife just loves Chuck Knipp stuff...I swear, I think she's got EVERY Shirley Q. routine memorized. I've always called her "my little black gal," (and she don't seem to mind too much as she chomps on her watermelon).
But, she ain't decadent. Much.
Aaaaahhhh....I'll bet it's a zoo in The Crescent City for the next several days. Being an old NW Louisiana hayseed, I'd just store up water, canned goods, ammo, and stay home. But, we're kinda "boring" like that.