New Orleans was the place to be for Football

By Charlie Barnes, Executive Director - Seminole Boosters

New Orleans is a deliciously smarmy city, charmingly unwholesome, whose signature pursuit is the banishment of dull care with a bottomless fount of hedonism, gluttony, occultism and joyful excess of all descriptions, all served up with guiltless pleasure in the French Quarter.

The Virginia Tech faithful, clean, good-looking, well dressed all-American folks with wide eyes and hand-held videocameras, sometimes seemed as out of place on Bourbon Street as a pair of polished wing tips on a Gulf Coast beach. As the Hokies strolled the French Quarter, the looks on their faces suggested that few of the surveyed delights were ever to be found back home in Pixley and Mount Pilot.

Still they remained happy and confident, and increasingly certain that they would outnumber and outcheer the Seminoles at the moment of truth.

And then, reality arrived dressed in war paint on the Last Day.

As dawn rose over the Crescent City on the morning of January 4, thousands, tens of thousands, of our Seminoles began flooding into town.

Private planes landed in squadrons at Moisant International Airport, aircraft filled with Seminoles from everywhere. At 5 p.m., the room set aside for our Seminole pep rally in the Hyatt Hotel was packed with 4,000 rowdy fans. Another 2,000 were kept away by the hotel because there was no room.

Organizers estimated that an unprecedented 120,000 fans had gathered into the city for the game, many of them crowding into the arena next to the Superdome to watch the broadcast on giant television screens.

Journalists assigned to assess the crowd figured it this way: probably 20,000 of the 80,000 people in the Dome were not with either team; they're just football fans here to enjoy the championship game.

The remaining 60,000 were split evenly between Tech and FSU. It would be hard to say which school had the advantage in numbers. But evidently it was not hard to assess which school held the advantage in heartfelt enthusiasm and support for their cause. Who will ever forget the intoxicating euphoria, the chills up the back, when we were up by 10 at the end, and our Seminole crowd began to chant "Peeeter Waaarick Peeeter Waaarick"? "Do you want me to finish it?" he asked in the huddle. "Yeah, Pete, finish 'em" was Jason Whitaker's response, all heads nodding. Weinke smiled. Then, he dropped back and threw toward the end zone.

The photo of that brilliant, juggling touchdown catch is immortalized on the cover of Sports Illustrated, framed by the simple headline:

"Dazzling!"

After the game, all the threads of the story seemed to find their ends. The Seminole fans were gracious in victory, the Hokies classy in defeat. The Virginia Tech defensive end Corey Moore, who had so many harsh things to say in the days leading up to the game, stopped FSU players one at a time, congratulating them and asking not to take any of it personally, "I was just trying to fire up my team ­ you guys are great."

A despondent Michael Vick was stopped on his way out and embraced by a couple of our defensive linemen. They were seen speaking closely to him, holding his hand in theirs.

Bobby Bowden and Peter Warrick stood behind trophies, surrounded by adoring players, fans, journalists and Sugar Bowl officials. You could see the Sears representatives startle when Bobby grabbed the $30,000 crystal football from its perch atop the trophy and began to toss it about. Maybe I'll throw it to Pete, maybe I'll pass it behind my back like a basketball. Maybe I'll just stick it in my pocket and take it home.

By 1:30 a.m., 30,000 people, no fewer than that, poured down Bourbon Street like a bright river through the French Quarter. Seminoles and Hokies bought beers for each other; each side wished the other well.

By 2:30 a.m., some of our players began to appear on Bourbon Street. President Sandy D'Alemberte strolled arm in arm with his wife, Patsy Palmer, shaking hands, exchanging congratulations. As the newly minted FSU President in 1993, he insisted that Bernie Sliger lead the National Championship parade through Tallahassee, sitting atop the flashy convertible, D'Alemberte himself the unnoticed driver. This time, the honor will be his.