3zine.jpg (21333 bytes)NEW ORLEANS!! THE CONTINUING ADVENTURES OF RAMUK
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After my first visit to see the Rams I was desperate to return. A 7-0 pre season victory over the Oilers was hardly the stuff that lifelong memories were made of. As well as seeing the Rams I wanted to see a bit of the country too. I decided on a November meeting with the Saints in New Orleans. Along with Nick,  the guy who accompanied me to LA previously, I decided to fly to Miami and then drive to NO and from there to New York and on home. I mean, how far could it be, it was only just over 6 inches on my map.

By delightful coincidence we arrived in Miami in time to see the Rams playing a Monday Night game live on TV. We booked into a rather seedy Motel in the Art Deco area and settled down to watch the game. Within seconds Nick was asleep as we had been travelling for over 20 hours. I manfully tried to stay awake but eventually I lost the struggle and nodded off into a deep slumber. I was awakened by cursing and mumbling coming from the other side of the room. I was vaguely aware of a figure stumbling around in the darkness and thought we were being robbed by some wild eyed lunatic, high on a cocktail of crack, caffeine and watching several hours of The Dukes of Hazard. Before I had chance to hide under the covers the figure tripped over and landed on top of me, cursing with some strangely familiar sayings like bloody hell and "who put this bleeding' bed ere". At this point I realised it was a fully dressed Nick . "What the hell are you doing ?" I politely enquired. "I'm trying to find the bloody car keys" he replied. I looked at him in the gloom and then looked at my clock which said 4.23am. "Why?" "So we don't get a ticket, the car has to be moved at 9.00am" Nick had forgotten to alter his watch to take account of the 5 hour time difference. "You moron, do you really think that Miami is this quiet and this dark at 25 past 9?" He looked out the window and back at me and then without a word headed back to his bed.

The following morning we headed north on a leisurely drive to Disneyworld. I'd been there on a previous visit and was not keen to go again but he had never seen it and wanted to give it a go. Disneyworld in my opinion, is probably the most efficient and best organised place in the world at parting a man from any available cash he may have. Not only do you have to agree to give Disney your entire life savings, any stock options you may possess and the shirt off your back just to get into the place. You then (or rather I) have to suffer the indignity of being told by some smiling spotty 13 year old that "You have to put your shoes back on, sir" even though you may be developing blisters after walking the distance of a Himalayan trek, just getting there from the parking lot.

By Friday evening we had bid adieu to Orlando and we were safely ensconced in Tallahassee. The only reason I can remember stopping in this place was that it seemed to be a University town en route to New Orleans. Our twisted logic determined that Universities meant students, students meant women, and no doubt there were literally hundreds out there ready to die for our sexy English accents and hurl themselves at our feet. Well, it didn't really pan out like that. If there really were hundreds of hot babes waiting for us, they'd obviously forgotten to tell us where they were going to be. We did manage to find a line dancing bar and stood open mouthed watching this strange new phenomenon, and we did mange to get so drunk that we couldn't remember where we were staying. This prompted a rather long and very expensive taxi ride as our kindly cabbie toured round and round the motels until we finally found the one that we had actually booked into.

Hangovers are horrible things when you have a lengthy drive ahead of you, and believe me I had a hangover that would have caused less resolute people to shy away from alcohol for their entire lives. I set off  with some devil beating the hell out of my eyes from the inside. A breakfast at Dennys just promoted nausea and not a word was spoken for 4 or 5 hours. After a stop near Pensacola for a hearty lunch though things picked up and our mood became more upbeat. The drive was fairly uneventful apart from the rather strange occurrence of driving from one time zone to another. I'd no idea that there was any such thing as Central Time and was convinced that the radio announcer kept getting the time wrong.

Shortly after dark we spotted the lights of the city reflecting on the water of the Mississippi and were suitably impressed. I relaxed in my seat, happy in the knowledge that I would be eating Crawfish Pie and reading Mark Twain on a steam boat within the hour. In actual fact we skipped straight past the Crawfish pie and opted for drinking vast quantities of cheep Beer out of plastic cups and staggering up and down Bourbon Street looking for anything that looked remotely like a real blues bar. Of course we were disappointed---this was the heartland of touristville and there weren't any, so we settled for an "authentic Cajun" meal consisting of brown sludge with some rather unsavoury scaly creatures in it, a thimble full of hard rice with accompanying unidentified black bits, and then parting with a months salary for the privilege.

Match day dawned and once more with the sunshine came Mr Hangover and all his assorted demonic friends to attack my head once more. On reflection, our decision the night before to bed down in the first motel we came to looked somewhat hasty. The fact that our car seemed to be the only one that was supported by wheels rather than bricks suggested we weren't in the most appropriate area for tourists. So we quickly paid for our room and headed for the game stopping briefly to check into another motel.

On arrival at the Louisiana Superdome we were awestruck. You have to realise that until the recent opening of the Millennium Stadium in Wales there has never been a covered stadium of any similar proportions in the UK. To be inside with 70,000 screaming Saints fans was an incredible experience. The game however was less than incredible. To say that it started off badly and fell away would be an understatement. The stats of 0 touchdowns for either team and no points whatsoever for the Rams in a 6-0 loss said it all. As you can imagine, we were subjected to much ridicule by the surrounding locals who found the whole situation highly amusing. I was starting to feel paranoid after attending 2 Rams games and seeing a grand total of 13 points scored,  and I felt sure I was some form of jinx.

We left the game feeling dispirited and disillusioned. I knew it was going to be another 12 months before I got the chance to see the Rams again and I was desperate to see a win. Little did I know that before that was to happen I was going to have to sit through a 49er mauling in Anaheim surrounded by red shirted high fiving morons, but I guess that's another story.

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