President Trump’s presence at the Super Bowl in New Orleans has generated excitement, prompting a desire for him to advocate for more frequent events in the city. Rather than engaging in political or sports controversies, the writer hopes to propose that the NFL host the Super Bowl every three years, highlighting New Orleans’ vibrant culture. Despite the unlikelihood of such a meeting, the author reflects on the city’s unique charm and the unforgettable experience it offers to visitors.
Trump’s Visit to the Super Bowl: A Unique Opportunity
NEW ORLEANS | The buzz surrounding President Donald Trump’s attendance at the Super Bowl in New Orleans has ignited excitement across the city. Should I happen to cross paths with him while savoring jambalaya or relaxing on a Bourbon Street balcony, I have a revolutionary decree to propose.
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Now, let’s be clear—I won’t approach him with political discussions. That’s too heavy for the festive atmosphere that fills the air during Super Bowl LIX. And sports? I’d prefer to steer clear of conversations about officiating while indulging in a delectable bowl of gumbo. We’ve had enough debates, and who knows, he might try to convince me that the NFL is as corrupt as his views on the 2020 presidential elections.
Everyone around here is basking in joy; it’s not the time for controversial topics.
A Decree for New Orleans
Instead of broaching the halftime show—which I can’t envision him enjoying, especially Kendrick Lamar’s lyrics—my decree suggestion is entirely different.
If I found myself sharing a drink with Mr. President at a cozy jazz bar on Frenchmen Street, I’d want to propose something far more impactful than tariffs on Canadian goods.
What I want is for him to advocate for the NFL to host the Super Bowl in New Orleans more frequently. I dream of a return to the days when this spectacular event graced the city every three years, celebrating its unique charm.
In my eyes, that’s a reasonable request. Ideally, it could even happen annually, although that might be a bit too much excitement for my health!
Nevertheless, a Super Bowl in New Orleans every three years would be just perfect. I can only hope Mr. Trump would agree if he took a moment to experience the vibrant atmosphere of a city that resembles a grand carnival, a sentiment beautifully captured by the legendary Plume Latraverse.
The Need for Presidential Action
It’s crucial to understand that if the president took the time to wander through Jackson Square or explore the French Quarter, indulging in some jazz at Preservation Hall and treating himself to a plate of crawfish étouffée, he would grasp the urgency of this matter.
Of course, he’s unlikely to partake in such activities during the game between the Chiefs and the Eagles at Caesars Superdome, kept at a distance by the Secret Service. We fully acknowledge the reality of his situation. Nonetheless, he must take action!
It’s been twelve long years since the Super Bowl was last hosted in New Orleans, a situation the NFL must rectify. The president should urgently convene with Commissioner Goodell to address this oversight.
Now, let’s get back to reality. It’s clear that this magical scenario is unlikely to unfold, but dreaming is always entertaining!
After spending five exhilarating days in the heart of New Orleans, I can confidently give this Super Bowl a perfect score. While the game itself remains to be seen, one thing is clear: no city hosts visitors quite like this one.
The cultural melting pot here, combined with endless entertainment options, makes it easy to lose track of time. The city pulses with an infectious energy, especially with the influx of football fans who are enjoying spicy cuisine and breaking their month-long sobriety.
In short, the Super Bowl in New Orleans is an unparalleled experience.
And while it’s unlikely that I’ll have the chance to meet President Trump, just as I didn’t meet the superstar Taylor Swift, I can look back on my own adventures. I had hoped to enjoy a beer with the pop icon at a fantastic media party, but instead, I found myself with an alligator in my arms by the end of the night.
Ah, that’s just the way life unfolds in New Orleans!