American Football: Saints march on to give battered city sense of hope

In happier times, the Superdome played host to six Super Bowls. The venue's current status, as a "shelter of last resort" for those who were unable to escape New Orleans before the deluge, represents a telling contrast between the haves and have-nots in America.

It was the biggest domed structure in the world until the Millennium Dome opened in London in 1999. Today the concrete edifice less than a mile from the French quarter looks certain to be condemned to destruction as part of the city's attempt at regeneration. The New Orleans Saints American football team will be looking for a new home.

For the last 38 years, the Saints have stumbled along as one of the game's also-rans. They have never threatened to gain an invitation to one of their own Super Bowl parties, their campaign generally having run aground well before the business end of the season.

Expectations for the forthcoming year, which begins tomorrow in Charlotte against the Carolina Panthers, were predictably low. But, the storm, it seems, has changed the sporting landscape. The Saints have become a reminder of how life used to be.

Along with several of his team-mates, the receiver Joe Horn recently visited Houston's Astrodome stadium, where thousands of displaced survivors from the Big Easy are being housed. The spirit he found there astonished him.

"I thought football would be irrelevant to them right now, but it's not," he said. "I thought I would cry once I stepped into that dome, but seeing people smile, and having kids ask for autographs uplifted me. They went through this catastrophe, and they still want us to play football."

An abandoned city, transformed by an act of nature into a ghost town of floating corpses and open sewers, has greater issues to contend with than the fortunes of its gridiron team. Yet as Horn and his colleagues discovered, hope for many translates into victory over the Carolina Panthers.

"I want to go and play my heart out for these people," said the running back Fred McAfee, whose connection to the disaster was made real when he saw television footage of his five-year-old niece being winched to safety from a rooftop. "Football is something to hold on to. Right now, it is their connection to what is real, because what they are experiencing is surreal."

The Superdome has probably staged its last Saints match: this season, games will probably be split between the state capital, Baton Rouge, and San Antonio, Texas, where the team has established a makeshift base.

The franchise's owner, Tom Benson, has for many years been at loggerheads with the city over a new stadium. Indeed, the terms of his lease with the storm-damaged Superdome allow him to leave at the end of this season.

Benson, a New Orleans native, has strong business ties with San Antonio. With his franchise currently located there, many fear they will never return, especially with the Superdome facing probable demolition, and no plans for a replacement yet in place.

There is also the prospect of a team being relocated to Los Angeles, currently an American football wasteland. The NFL has made no secret of its desire to have a team in America's second city. The homeless Saints could fill that void.

Benson has made no commitment to his home town, but the team's general manager, Mickey Loomis, made a public statement of support.

"We are still the New Orleans Saints, and our commitment to our city is stronger than ever," he said. "Our team is representing the state of Louisiana and the city of New Orleans, and we'll take that responsibility seriously." Privately, some members of the organisation question whether the Saints will ever represent their town again.

In the short term, however, a successful season on the field would help restore some pride within a devastated community, but in a sport where meticulous preparation is essential to success, the Saints are in disarray.

The players were in northern California when Katrina struck. Their vehicles remain in the team's facility in Metarie, to the west of New Orleans. However, the offices have been requisitioned by aid workers, and with fuel supplies low, the players will return to empty petrol tanks when they are finally able to reclaim their possessions.

Home is currently a hotel in San Antonio. The office staff have taken over a local high school, team meetings are held in the city's Convention Centre, while practice is conducted at a municipal sports complex.

It is logistical chaos from which the head coach, Jim Haslett, has to conjure up a winning game plan for a team with average talent. However, there has not been one word of complaint. As Horn said: "What the Saints are going through right now is a cakewalk."

Such is the power of sport to enrich and uplift, the Saints carry an extra weight of expectation into the new season. As the receiver Michael Lewis, a New Orleans' native, explained: "We are holding an entire state on our back right now. We have to represent the state and the city, and give them everything we have, to try and make it to the Super Bowl this year."

For a city washed away in dreadful circumstances, the prospect of sporting success gives many something to cling to, when all around is uncertainty. A Super Bowl for the Saints is an impossible dream, but for many of their fans, dreams are all they have left.