Drew Brees and New Orleans: The Marriage Got Off To a Rousing Start

The Super Bowl seemed a million miles away when you lay in that hospital bed in 2006 with a shoulder so severely torn, even your doctor thought your playing days may be done.

The San Diego Chargers unceremoniously dumped you with an insulting contract offer  and you and Brittany put plans to start a family on hold.

All of this because because you were just doing your job. 

You dove for a fumble in your own end zone in 2005. You were just being you. Playing football the way Rose played baseball and Maravich played basketball. Diving to recover a fumble with your team out of playoff contention.

No good deed goes unpunished.

A 325 pound Denver defensive tackle named Gerald Warren landed full force on your throwing shoulder. It was a pretty gruesome sight.

In Birmingham, Ala, renowned orthopedic surgeon Dr. James Andrews watched a replay of that scramble for the ball and told Sports Illustrated , "I thought, my God, what an injury."

After examining you, he said it was a 360 degree tear of the labrum and, during surgery, Andrews found that you also suffered a deep, partial rotator cuff tear.

He told SI that it was "one of the most unique injuries of any athlete I've treated."

"Lord, I was just hoping to give him a functional shoulder. An average athlete would not recover from this injury," said Andrews.

Never underestimate the heart of a champion.

Meanwhile, the city of New Orleans was in shambles and struggling to regain its balance following Hurricane Katrina. Somehow, someway you two found each other and the marriage quickly got off to a rousing start.

It's January 2007 and you're walking through Audubon Park; San Diego seems so far in the past now.

You pass walkers and joggers along the trail. Just last Saturday night, you led the Saints to 27-24 win over the Philadelphia Eagles in the team's second playoff win in team history, setting up a meeting with the Chicago Bears for the NFC Championship.

"Thank you for what you've done for this city. I want you to know that we appreciate it," says a man pushing a baby stroller.

A woman passing in a red SUV yells out the window, "Thanks Drew!"

You tell SI's Tim Layden, "That happens 10 times a day. And it's never 'Good game' or Can I have your autograph? It's always somebody saying thank you."

You look downward and shake your head in humility.

Those Bourbon Street preachers say gratitude is the least heartfelt of all emotions. Guess they've never witnessed an outpouring of emotion like this.

Chef Emeril Lagasse tells Sports Illustrated, "He is a god down here right now. He is a miracle man."

In your first year as quarterback of the Saints, you are navigating the team toward the impossible dream: New Orleans' first Super Bowl.

Your right tackle Jon Stinchcomb tells SI, "Without him we just wouldn't be here. It's that simple."

Three year later, Stinchcomb would be one of your protectors in a Super Bowl victory.

Life was tough back in those days. Standing in long lines at the grocery. Standing in even longer lines at the pharmacy. Having to be in the drive-up line by 8:00 p.m. for a box of Popeye's fried chicken.

Football was one of the only distractions.

Now, it's Valentine's Day 2010 and your love affair with the city and its people is stronger than ever.

You throw footballs from a Mardi Gras float as the King of Bacchus on a frigid Sunday night in New Orleans.

You throw perfect spirals that people scramble for like they were pieces of gold.

You fling necklaces and medallions with ease. The same way you threw that TD pass to Shockey in Miami.

You're Drew Brees and you're as humble as ever.

They say steel is strengthened in the fire and Lord knows you've been there.