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Scenes From Superdome Section 6000, Seat 6000

Posted on October 1, 2013October 1, 2013 by Varg

Many times I have heard Saints season ticket holder Pants tell of the goings on in Section 617 in the Superdome. And he has written about it well enough over the years. But I just wanted to add a few observations about it from an outsider’s perspective. I mean, I felt like a freshman up there. It felt exotic. It was a micro environment. I loved it.

A few observations…null

I just call it Section 6000, Seat 6000 because that really drives home just how far up and back this place is. It’s like an outpost. The beer vendors are Himalayan sherpas in the off season. But I will add that it is not so far back that you couldn’t see Rob Ryan on the sideline. Pants did mention that Rob Ryan and the Great Wall of China are the only two human-made objects that can bee seen from space. And you can see Rob from space even when he is inside. Just think about that. That’s how much he sticks out. I have heard of, and even experienced one for myself, many Rob Ryan sightings all over New Orleans since his arrival. People think he’s a man about town but really, Sean Payton or Drew Brees or Pierre Thomas could scoot on past unnoticed but there is no mistaking Rob Ryan when you see him. No one says, “You know, I think I saw Rob Ryan today…” Never happens.

But I digress. Back to Section 6000, Seat 6000.

First, because it is so high up in the Dome, with your back literally against the wall, there is no fuller a view of the field. I know this sounds like poor folks making tricandilles out of pig parts but there is something truly unique about having a full scope of the field. Everyone always wants to be up close and there is certainly an enjoyment to be had by being by the action. Sounds are clearer for example. But, with an expansive view of the field one can not help but analyze the science of the game. You see who was open on what play. You see how offenses and defenses line up. You see plays unfold before they happen because you know where all 22 guys are at all times. On television, a player with the ball is running downfield and tacklers just sort of fly into the shot. But at the game, especially from Section 6000, Seat 6000 you can see whether a guy is going to break the play or not almost from the moment they get the ball. You can see the line move when a rusher takes the ball and you know if it is going to be a big gain or not.

Then there is the wall. The wall of the Dome is at your back. And nobody cares if you bang the shit out of it. Or at least no one cares if someone cares. This is really something special to a guy like me who loves the spirit of things, who gets caught up in the atoms all around us. I mean the Superdome itself is your noisemaker. This hallowed ground. This scene of so much history. This chamber of a million magic moments…and Katrina. There was a certain strange intimacy to it and I banged the fuck out of that wall before every defensive play and after every score just because I could. I bruised both thumbs (incidentally, the thumbs are the second celebration related injury I have sustained. I sprained or strained or did something to my rotator cuff high-fiving after the 2009 NFC Championship).

Nobody sits down. The people in Section 6000, Seat 6000 stand up the whole game. Because they can. No one can complain because they aren’t obstructing anyone. So why sit when you can stand right? It ups the intensity.

And there is a sense of certain lawlessness up there. Nobody got rowdy or anything but I had the feeling you could get away with a little bit more because any law would have to make a trip just to get up there to sort the thing out. If it wasn’t already sorted out by the time they arrived. I mean, I felt bad making the beer man climb up there. You could probably smoke cigarettes up there if you wanted.

Due to the architecture of the Dome, there are all sorts of little nooks where you can put your beer or cocktail or whatever. It’s very loungy.

And within the micro-environment there is this sub-culture. I know season-ticket holders develop relationships with other ticket-holder in the same section. But this being the Machu-Picchu of the Superdome, it felt a little more special. The group in front of us (who looked to be fellow card carrying members of the National Liquor Lobby) had special songs they sung after a particular player scored or had a big play. And they were singing the Sproles one quite a lot this night. I gathered that you could maybe substitute any song that had the word “roll” or “rolls” in it and substitute “Sproles.” For instance “Sprole With It,” “Sprollin On The River” or “Like a Sprolling Stone.” Though, I never actually confirmed this and was quite spirited. And the fella in this group who seemed to be the leader had one of the most fashionable DIY Saints outfits I have ever seen. He was also quite spirited in all usages of the word.

Many thanks to my host, the “Crunk Crown” sporting Ros for allowing me into this realm.

4 thoughts on “Scenes From Superdome Section 6000, Seat 6000”

  1. antirealism says:
    October 1, 2013 at 2:35 pm

    That’s my dad’s section! I’ve variously had “better” seats in the endzone, or at the 50 yard line, club level, close enough to smell Drew Brees, etc. Other seats might be cushier, closer, or have cup-holders but the nosebleeds are ALWAYS the best view and the best experience.

  2. Christy says:
    October 2, 2013 at 12:21 pm

    I feel like I was up there with you. My ears are ringing.

  3. Varg says:
    October 2, 2013 at 2:48 pm

    Anti- Agreed. It’s like you have some privacy up there.

    Christy – My mom bought me some tickets for my birthday and asked me where in the Dome I wanted to sit. I said 617!

  4. jeffrey says:
    October 8, 2013 at 2:26 pm

    Ashley used to call his section in the Dome “The Gentilly Of Sections” because, according to him, it was a well balanced mix of races, incomes, walks of life, what have you. I like to think of 617 as The Chef Highway of the dome because it’s probably very close to where the bodies are buried.

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3 Noble Truths

Know yourself. Know the Universe. Know yourself in the Universe.

Rev. Varg’s Artist Statement

Rejoice!

I say that a lot. I sign many pieces with it. I do this because I believe our lives are a true happenstance. A brilliant occurence from nothingness. We are so rare. We are so unlikely. And simply being born isn’t enough. From there we must survive, endure. So each morning, after our Sun departs and is reborn again. Please, for the sake of your ancestors and the Universe in general, hoist that cup of joe up and say, “Rejoice.”

Ours is a soulful existence. No matter how many McMansions, polyester fabrics, auto-tunes, modified foods and social networks we surround ourselves with, we are all still native, passionate beings made of ancient matter. We are organic and we have soul.

Wood also has a warm, soulful quality. Wood has a memory. It retains smells, traumas, events. It even has a calendar. This is why I have chosen it as my medium, for its old soul. I like to think the wood in my work is in its third incarnation. First a tree, then a home and now art. If you have a room that needs a little soul, get a piece. A room can never have enough soul.

My inspiration and subject matter comes from many sources, among them: Humanism, old ballads, trickster tales, flora and fauna, science, myths and folklore, stringed instruments, brass bands, amber spirits, lady vocalists, general relativity and quantum mechanics. Some of my pieces are there just to make a short, simple statement about what’s important in life. Some are more diffuse and abstract in meaning. A personal drama, an enduring line from a poem or novel, a poignant song lyric, the legacy of an important person, a fleeting thought … these are the subjects of my art.

I use hearts often because they are a very abstract way of depicting the human soul without also employing the very subjective human form. The symbolic heart is an apt representation for a person’s experience and essence. A body can immediatly conjure happiness, sorrow, youth, age, anger, bliss. These emotions can get in the way. Sometimes it’s simply about the experience.

I am the son of a sailor and a social worker, the grandson of a gypsy, a dancer and a nurse. I spent my youth moving from port city to port city, watching a lot of road go by and reading World Book Encyclopedia. After my parents settled down on the Gulf Coast, I was a miscreant youth, destroying cars and taking the wrongs things too seriously and the right things not serious enough. Eventually I began replacing my imagination with experience.

I will use any salvaged wood but prefer swamp cypress and longleaf heartwood pine.

I despise waste. Particularly the waste of organic matter. Trees are magnificent. They were here before we arrived and they’ll be around after we are gone. I’m making an effort to save as much wood as possible. Creating art is fun too. But beyond communicating with folks, but beyond making money ad providing for myself, beyond rescuing flooded parts, beyond reveling in the ethereal aroma of heartpine that hasn’t seen the light of day in 400 years, beyond all that, I am trying to make a simple comment on waste.

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