For a long time Brittany and I had a desire to channel our giving and fund-raising to specific projects that would make a difference in people's lives. So in 2003, after a lot of thought and prayer, we established the Brees Dream Foundation, a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt charity.

We came up with the concept and name for the Brees Dream Foundation on our honeymoon. It was our joint vision, but really it was Brittany's pa.s.sion that ensured it came to fruition. In a way, we think of it as our first baby. Our foundation is personal to us not only because of the people who inspired it but because it was our dream, our way to give back after all the blessings we have been given.

Our original mission for the foundation was to advance cancer research projects and improve the quality of life for patients with cancer, especially children. Part of the inspiration for this idea came from Brittany's aunt Judith Zopp. She and Brittany were very close, and when Brittany was in college, Aunt Judie, as Brit called her, went through several stages of treatment for both lung cancer and brain cancer. We watched her struggle valiantly as the treatments, including partial lung removal, radiation, Gamma Knife rays, chemotherapy, and full-brain radiation, sapped her strength. Though her body continued to decline, her att.i.tude and spirit never did. She managed to go to work every day after the chemo in the earlier stages. And all the way to the end, she somehow remained upbeat and positive, and her warm, loving spirit always shone through. She was and still is an inspiration to Brittany and me.

After that experience, cancer was no longer a theoretical concept for us; it was personal. Aunt Judie died on September 3, 2000, the beginning of my senior year of college. It was her life that was the catalyst for our vision. We wanted to help other Aunt Judies in the world.

As we became more familiar with the cancer treatment centers, our hearts especially went out to children with illnesses. We now work closely with children's hospitals in New Orleans and San Diego and other organizations that treat kids with debilitating diseases. The Hope Lodge, which is affiliated with the American Cancer Society, provides housing for families with sick children who are coming from out of town for treatment. It offers a comforting place to stay, a "home away from home" for families who are going through so much upheaval in their lives. Whatever the length of their stay, they know the Hope Lodge will be available for them. The Brees Dream Foundation helps make that stay as comfortable and peaceful as possible.

There's something about watching an innocent child suffer that cuts to your core. Not only are these kids in unimaginable pain, but they haven't had an opportunity to lead a "normal" life yet, to just be a kid. At times, I think one of the most important parts of treatment can be simply putting smiles on kids' faces or letting them know you're there for them, encouraging them that they can pull through.

We're very involved with some projects in Southern California from my time with the Chargers, and we still have a great relationship with the San Diego community. One of the most exciting opportunities has been a project at the hematology/oncology ward at Rady Children's Hospital. In May 2010 we hosted a golf tournament that raised more than $100,000, which helped complete funding for Carley's Magical Gardens, a pavilion in the hospital with a tree house, bronze animals, and a garden play area, where kids can relax and dream.

Since we established the foundation in 2003, Brittany had another aunt, Ann Jones, who pa.s.sed away-this time from pancreatic cancer. It took her quickly and came as a shock to the whole family. Much like Aunt Judie, Aunt Ann was one of those people who held the family together. This experience was another reminder of why we feel compelled to do everything we can to help with cancer research and provide support for patients. We hope to put up two plaques beside Carley's Magical Gardens with Aunt Judie's and Aunt Ann's names on them to commemorate their lives and the type of people they were.

We've also worked with an organization in San Diego called Friends of Scott. There was a young man named Scott Delgadillo, who died of cancer in 2001. His family started a foundation to fund different programs for children with life-threatening diseases. One of the programs we are especially excited about is for kids who miss their prom or formal dance due to illness. By hosting the Annual Unforgettable Prom night, this organization gives sick children a chance to get dressed up, ride in a limo, and celebrate a special evening. It's a simple way for them to enjoy something cancer took from their lives. And since everything from the formalwear to the catered food is donated, this free event is a blessing to the parents as well as the kids.

The Brees Dream Foundation might sound pretty official, but in reality, the whole organization is just Brittany, me, and my marketing agent and good friend, Chris Stuart. And since the three of us take no pay for our work, we operate at nearly zero overhead cost. Our philosophy is simple-a dollar in is a dollar out. All the money raised in a specific community stays in that community. Our pa.s.sion is clear-to help people. We don't want anything to get in the way of that.

A New Vision.

Although New Orleans and San Diego get most of the media attention, we are still thrilled to be making an impact back at Purdue University. In West Lafayette, Indiana, we support the Purdue Athletes Life Success program (PALS), a free camp offered during the summer for about four hundred kids. It was once run by the National Youth Sports program, but it looked like it would have to shut down when their federal funding was pulled. We'd seen research about how positively this camp was impacting the kids long-term, and we didn't want to let the program die, so our foundation took it over. We fund it through a charity golf tournament and a special corporate relationship with Purdue Employees Federal Credit Union.

The camp uses sports to teach kids life skills-teamwork, discipline, leadership, and a good att.i.tude. There's also an art program, a computer program, and a financial literacy program that partners with the credit union. I'm the spokesperson for Visa's practical money skills program, which teaches kids how to manage their money and live within their means. I strongly believe that the earlier you can start teaching kids how to manage and save their money, the better equipped they'll be when they get to college and into their careers.

When I signed with New Orleans in 2006, we broadened the scope of our foundation to encompa.s.s the rebuilding efforts in the city, but our vision remained centered on kids. Less than a year removed from Katrina, we saw that there were still so many needs in New Orleans. We wanted to help rebuild schools, parks, playgrounds, and athletic fields, as well as fund child care programs, after-school programs, internships, and even teachers' salaries at schools that needed it. I am a firm believer that when you provide kids with a healthy learning environment and constructive after-school activities like sports or clubs or the arts, you are keeping them out of trouble and putting them in the best position to succeed. After all the children of New Orleans had gone through-being displaced from their schools, having their parks destroyed, and losing some of their familiar, safe places-we felt this was the least we could do. We didn't want them to lose out on any more of their childhood. The kids here have captured our hearts, and we know how vital the next generation is to the growth of the community.

In a lot of ways, this city and I have had parallel journeys. New Orleans was trying to come back at the same time I was rehabbing my shoulder and trying to resurrect my career. I had to learn how to throw again and then rebuild my arm strength, and it was the same with the city. There were areas where the floodwaters completely knocked homes and buildings off their foundations, and people had a chance to start over, to bring things back even better than they were before.

Somebody once said to me, "If you love New Orleans, it will love you back. But if you hate it, it will hate you back." Brittany and I have found that as we've grown to love this city, it has given us more love than we ever could have expected. And as we've become involved in charitable work, the payback for us-emotionally and spiritually-has been far beyond what we will ever be able to provide for it.

Still, the needs were overwhelming at first. Where do you start when everything is devastated? Brittany and I had to ask ourselves some hard questions to figure out what the priorities should be. We felt like one of the best ways for the city to get back on its feet was to bring people home again. We kept coming back to a few central questions: What was going to attract people who had been displaced to return to New Orleans? What would draw people who had never lived here but could discover this as a land of opportunity and a great place to raise kids, like we had?

Across the board, parents want to give their children opportunities for success in life, and we figured some of their top priorities would be schools and sports programs. That's why we targeted education, parks, athletics, and other youth activities. Those improvements were tangible rays of hope for the residents too-reminders that they could have confidence in their city and that the rebuilding would continue.

It took about a year to identify twelve projects in town we wanted to tackle, and in June 2007, with the help of our partner, Operation Kids, we launched the Rebuilding Dreams in New Orleans campaign. These twelve projects totaled $1.8 million and were targeted at the needs of children in the area. Some of the organizations we were helping had been let down before-federal money had been misappropriated, or those who had promised money hadn't followed through. We told those groups, "We are committing to raise this money, or it will come out of our pockets. And the money is going to go where we've promised. You will see results." We wanted to send the message that no matter how things had been done in the past, we were going to be dependable and reliable. They could count on us.

In May 2009, we completed the $1.8 million funding that went to those twelve organizations. One that really captured my heart was Lusher Charter School. Prior to Katrina, the building had housed another school that had been closed due to poor academic performance and other issues. When the hurricane hit, the empty facility was used as a shelter for the homeless and those escaping the storm. By the time the dust settled, the school was in terrible disrepair. But due to some extraordinary leadership, as well as the commitment of parents and children to return to their neighborhood, a new school was established in its place: Lusher Charter School.

They already had a strong music, theater, and dance program-the one thing they were missing was an athletic program. We were able to put about $750,000 toward a new athletic field and a weight room for training. Brittany and I go there to visit from time to time, and when we do, we feel like alumni. As we walk around, kids will casually say, "Hey, Drew," and keep walking. They don't rush up for an autograph or a picture-I'm just part of the Lusher family now. That's a great feeling.

Another big project was a school right down the street from our house called Samuel J. Green Charter School. It's a school for kindergarten through eighth grade that emphasizes culinary arts-hence its nickname, the Edible Schoolyard. They have a greenhouse and a garden where they grow fruits, vegetables, and spices right on the school grounds. They learn about the science of growing and what flourishes in different climates and at different times of the year. Then they use that food each day in the cla.s.sroom and the lunchroom.

New Orleans has a long tradition in cuisine, so this school really fits the unique persona of our city. Plus, the opportunities it provides cultivate a sense of pride, self-esteem, and confidence in kids. Many students and their families come to school on the weekends to tend to their row of vegetables or fruit. We provided Samuel J. Green Charter School with $250,000 for the development of their Edible Schoolyard as well as the installation of a professional kitchen.

Over the years it has been fun to partner with other groups that have a similar vision for the city. Organizations we support like the Idea Village attract young, entrepreneurial talent to New Orleans to establish small businesses and bring jobs and stability to the city. The Brees Dream Foundation has been able to identify organizations that have great plans and solid leadership in place but need a little extra to get over the top and complete funding. We pride ourselves in finding these causes and helping to close out funding for some great projects in a way that will have a significant impact. The thought that this city could come back stronger was once only a dream. Now we can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but we must keep our heads down and press forward because there is still a lot of work left to do. We must stay focused and embrace the opportunity.

Giving back to the community isn't only about money, either. As a professional athlete, whether you like it or not, you're a role model. A lot of people-especially kids-look up to you. I know that when I was a kid, I watched the pros' every move, hung on their every word, and tried to model my life after theirs. As important as it is to share the blessings I've been given, my heart needs to be in the right place too. I need to do the right things for the right reasons-out of a heart that cares about others and genuinely wants to make a difference.

I want kids to look at me and say, "When I grow up, I want to make that kind of impact on the world." It's not just about being a good athlete on the field; it's also about being a giving person off the field.

As a quarterback, I can't think of many thrills quite like seeing your team come together and accomplish an objective you've been working toward all season. That's kind of how I feel about getting to see these different pieces of the foundation come together too. I love watching each person on the team working toward a common goal and making a difference.

Our Biggest Fans.

As professional athletes, we can sometimes get wrapped up in things like goals and records and championships and trophies. We're concerned about contracts and bonuses and the business side of the game. We can pay a lot of attention to the media and all the publicity. But what really helps keep us grounded is when we hear from some of our most special fans.

Devan Muller was a little five-year-old with a big smile who came to a Saints practice in the 2007 off-season. He had gone through a major heart surgery, and things weren't going well for him. Through the Make-A-Wish Foundation, he was given the chance to have one of his dreams come true. He was a huge Saints fan, and his wish was to attend a Saints practice. He wanted to meet some of the players and throw the ball with me. So we brought Devan into the team meeting room during an off-season practice, took him out to the field, and gave him a chance to step into the huddle. He even got to follow alongside us while we ran drills. Afterward Devan stayed out on the field, and the two of us played catch and talked. I've never seen a kid grin so big for so long.

We've had the opportunity to meet other kids through Make-A-Wish, and one boy even did an honorary coin toss in the middle of the field on game day. We'll do whatever we can to let those kids live out a dream. Without fail, they're more of an inspiration to me than I could ever be to them.

We've gotten letters from parents saying, "Our son pa.s.sed away this last week, but what he was constantly talking about until the end was the opportunity to come and be with you and meet the team. It was a dream come true for us. Thank you for giving that joy and happiness to our child." Letters like that from a hurting parent put everything in perspective. You have a brush with one of those special little guys, and you realize how fortunate you really are. You also realize that others around you are going through tough times-challenges that most people can't even imagine.

There are also success stories, where parents write and say, "My son is doing great. He was given a couple of months to live, but now he's doing well and the doctors think he might pull through it. We think when he came to practice and threw the ball with you, it was a huge turning point. It gave him something to look forward to, and he wants to come back again when he's cancer-free."

These kids may be our fans, but they are our heroes. Some of them might not have much time left on earth, but they're fighting every day to live life to the fullest. They motivate us as a team to be all we can be-a team worthy of the special kids who want to be close to us.

I think a lot about the term calling. Brittany and I felt that when we came to New Orleans. I sensed that G.o.d was bringing us here for a reason. Most people think they're called somewhere because of what they can do for a community or a cause. But to me, it's also because that community can help you along where you need it. The truth is, as much as Brittany and I have invested in New Orleans in terms of football and the foundation, this city has given it all back to us tenfold. I will always be thankful-to the people of this city and to the G.o.d who called me here.

Chapter Fourteen.

Building a Championship Team.

Although my shoulder had made it through the 2006 season just fine and had gotten stronger every week, I still felt there was a lot of progress to be made before the 2007 season rolled around. Dr. Andrews had said it would be at least an eight-month rehab process just to get back on the field, but that it would take about two years before I would feel "normal" again. I wasn't sure what he meant at the time, but I was beginning to understand. I kept working on strengthening and conditioning exercises during the off-season. I had moments when I was throwing the ball as well as I'd ever thrown it, but it was taking time to become as consistent as I wanted to be. It sounds weird to say that after coming off the best season of my career, but even after all the time and maintenance I'd put into my shoulder that year, I knew there was still room for improvement. The retooling of my throwing motion during rehab had made a big difference in my efficiency and the way my arm felt. I knew that with more time and repet.i.tion, my shoulder would only get stronger.

My goal for each year is simple: to be better than I was the year before. You can't always look at the stats to make that conclusion, either. Sometimes you are only able to determine your progress by digging deep and evaluating yourself. As I looked ahead to 2007, I was building from the baseline of where I'd finished the season in 2006. That year I felt like I became stronger each game. Now I felt it was time to focus on raising the bar, setting my sights a little higher.

As difficult as it is to rebuild a shoulder, building a great team is a tougher task. Creating a championship team is even more challenging. To explain how we rose to the top, I have to go back to 2006 and revisit some decisions that were made about me and the other players on the team.

New Orleans certainly had other options for quarterback in 2006. There were other healthy free agents they could have chosen, or they could have stayed the course with Aaron Brooks, their quarterback at the time. They could have drafted Heisman Trophy winner Matt Leinart from USC, or if Leinart wasn't available, they could have picked Vince Young or Jay Cutler. They knew there were no guarantees that I would be able to rehab and make a complete comeback. But despite the odds stacked against me, New Orleans believed in me. I responded to their belief, and it propelled me to exceed all expectations.

Some people still ask me what would have happened if I had gone to Miami instead, but I don't like to spend time looking back. Because of the way things worked out after the injury, I had the chance to come to New Orleans and make a difference. I believe that was part of G.o.d's plan, and I embraced it with all my heart.

There were other hard decisions the Saints had to make. When Sean Payton got to New Orleans, he knew they had to start over and build the organization up the right way. He convinced the owner, Tom Benson, and the general manager, Mickey Loomis, that the team really needed to bring in guys who would help them build a new foundation and a new core. Together they worked at changing the att.i.tude and culture of the team by bringing in hardworking players who were committed and willing to fight through whatever challenges came their way.

Building a championship team is not an overnight process. It's not all that different from the reconstruction after Katrina. You have to go through some pain and tearing down before you can get to work on the rebuilding process. Coach Payton knew he had to make some tough decisions about the type of players we didn't want for the year ahead. The guys from the 2005 season had lived on the road, away from their families for long stretches. They practiced at high schools, stayed in different hotels and apartments, and had no place to call home. It's easy to lose direction and stray from the course when you don't have a solid foundation of home and family. These tense conditions caused a great deal of division among the team, and I have heard players refer to this frustration as "Katrina anger." Unfortunately, that anger brought out the worst in some guys. It became obvious that there were certain att.i.tudes and personalities from the previous season that didn't fit with the vision they were trying to build. Those players would not be there next year.

For the most part, the guys who were brought in weren't well-paid free agents. At the time, this was not an easy place to attract high-level players. Instead, a lot of the new recruits were castaways. They'd been told by other organizations that they didn't have what it took to remain on the team. When they got to New Orleans, they were given a home.

Even though 2006 started out as a rebuilding year for us on all levels, it ended up as a storybook year-the best in franchise history up to that point. We made incredible strides toward building a culture and an atmosphere that was conducive to winning. After we made it to the NFC Championship Game in 2006, that put the pressure on in 2007. We really felt like we could make it to the Super Bowl. We had the talent, we had the confidence, and we believed all the pieces were in place to win everything.

However, team building and personnel are only part of the process. Ironically, handling success can be just as tough as handling adversity-maybe tougher. When you get knocked down, you learn to get back up. Everybody knows that intuitively. When you lose, you learn and grow from the mistakes and figure out how to overcome them. But when you succeed, you have to realize that just because you did it once doesn't make it any easier the second time. It's human nature to relax and feel ent.i.tled. If you want to win consistently, you have to fight that tendency with everything in you. When you reach the top of the mountain, don't forget how hard it was to get there in the first place.

In the NFL, each year means starting over. Every season there's a new team, a new set of challenges, new dynamics, and a new opportunity to grow together. Did we have what it took to handle the success of the previous season?

A Season of Setbacks.

We began the 2007 season with a game against Indianapolis. According to a new tradition, the Super Bowlwinning team from the previous year hosts the Thursday night NFL Kickoff game to mark the start of the season. We had missed playing the Colts by a game the previous year and felt like we were ready to take on the champs. It was a good game for the first half, and at halftime the score was tied 1010.

We lost 4110. To put it mildly, we had a rough second half. It was beyond disappointing. We were embarra.s.sed. Humiliated. That was not the New Orleans Saints on the field. We didn't remember the last time we had been beaten like that.

Convinced that the Indianapolis game had been a fluke, we headed to Tampa Bay with fresh confidence. Still, we knew this wouldn't be a cakewalk. Anytime you're playing a divisional opponent, you have to be ready for a fight. We had beaten the Buccaneers twice in 2006, so they had that extra motivation from the previous season. Going into that game, all of us were in the same frame of mind: we were going to turn things around. No losing two in a row. We were going to show everyone the real Saints team.

We ended up losing 3114. At one point in the game we were down 280. Another embarra.s.sment.

Our expectation was to make it to the Super Bowl that year, and here we had lost the first two games of the season. But that was our problem. We were thinking about the Super Bowl. We weren't thinking about winning one game at a time and then putting our energy into winning the next one.

After getting a whupping those first two games, we came back to the Superdome for Monday Night Football against Tennessee. Our att.i.tude was Okay, we're really going to turn things around. Now is the time to step up. Stop the bleeding.

The t.i.tans were a good team that year-in fact, they ended up making it to the playoffs. The final score showed what they were made of. We lost 3114 for the second week in a row, and we were sitting at 03 going into our bye week.

During the bye week each player self-scouts and evaluates. It's when we consider what we've done well and where we've come up short. When we looked at our play from the season so far, we had to be honest and say, "We haven't done anything well." We decided to wipe the slate clean and start again. The rest during that week was good for us-physically and mentally-and we thought we had some things figured out about how to move ahead.

Some fans would probably turn on their team at 03. The b.o.o.birds would come out, and you'd hear them as you went into the tunnel. But our fans were the opposite. They kept encouraging us, and their att.i.tude was Look, we know you're playing hard; we know you're trying. We're still here for you; we're still pulling for you. They reciprocated the support we gave them in the hard times after Katrina. There's a unique back-and-forth between our team and New Orleans that's hard to explain. We gave them strength when they needed it, and they gave it right back to us. We help each other fight through whatever we're facing.

They were behind us when we faced Carolina the next week. But that game turned out to be a heartbreaker for all of us. We were leading in the fourth quarter, deep in Carolina territory, and we couldn't get the ball in the end zone. We lined up for an easy field goal, but it was blocked. Carolina came back to tie us, and as time expired, they kicked a fifty-two-yard field goal. They eked out a win, 1613.

Now we were 04 for the first time since 1996. Numbers aren't everything to me, but in those first four games, I had thrown only one touchdown . . . and nine interceptions. Those are stats you don't like to remember. As we headed off the field after the Carolina game, the air went out of the Dome. We'd been to the championship game the year before, and here we were bringing up the rear in our division. We were facing a huge amount of adversity again-but this time it was because we had dug our own hole. We were pretty sh.e.l.l-shocked by the whole thing and wondered what had happened. We were losing confidence in our own abilities.

I had thrown only eleven interceptions during the whole 2006 season, and I threw nine in just the first four games of 2007. Everybody trusted me to take care of the ball. I had let them down. I knew that was not me. That was not the type of player I strove to be. I wanted my team to be able to count on me.

Before the Carolina game, one of our receivers, David Patten, had pulled me aside. DP, or the Big Chief, as we all called him, had been signed by the Saints that year from Washington and had been a key part of New England's offense for all three of their Super Bowl wins. He was a veteran player who had seen a lot, and he became a great friend and mentor for me over the next two years. In that moment he showed me some tough love. He told me that people were saying I had lost confidence, and he felt like I needed to step up a bit more as a leader and as the quarterback of our team. This lit a fire under me that still burns today. The fact is, he was right-I had lost a little confidence and was beginning to put undue pressure on myself. Had 2006 been a fluke? I was so desperate for us to succeed that I was trying to make it happen as opposed to letting it happen. I was trying to force every play instead of just feeling and reacting to the game. When you hit a stretch like that in your career, it's vital to focus on the little things and fall back on the fundamentals of the game. If you can't do that, you can't play. Trust the process, trust your routine, and trust your preparation-that's what gives you the confidence to relax and play at a high level on game day. I needed the Big Chief to remind me of that.

The next Sunday we played at Seattle, and they were heavily favored. We scored three touchdowns in the second quarter and won 2817 in front of a national audience. Just what we needed to get back on track.

The next week we came out on top against Atlanta and continued the streak by beating San Francisco. In the next game we faced Jacksonville, another eventual playoff team and heavy favorite. We put up forty-one points and won. That meant we'd won four in a row. We'd evened out our record, 44. I remember guys from the media asking, "Who wants to play the New Orleans Saints now?" We fed on that kind of talk, and our confidence rose a little. We were down but not out. We'd been hit, but we were fighting back. The Superdome was rocking, and people were fired up. In the last twelve games I played some of the best football of my career, throwing twenty-seven touchdowns to nine interceptions. Quite a change from the one to nine ratio from the first four weeks. I was also approaching the two-year mark since the surgery, and my arm was feeling stronger than ever, even before the injury.

Unfortunately, though, the hole we'd carved for ourselves was pretty deep. In order to stay in contention for the playoffs, we had to win almost every game left in the season. It was not meant to be. Despite our best efforts to recover from a bad start, we finished the year at 79, missing the postseason entirely.

Like it or not, you can learn a lot more from losing than you typically do from winning. Our record may not have been pretty that year, but we came away with some valuable lessons about not taking anything for granted and about finishing well. In that sense, 2007 and 2008 were very similar-both seasons had high expectations, and both seasons were disappointments. But there were foundations being laid that we couldn't see . . . yet.

Ha-ooh!

Each year I've tried to do something new during the off-season to inspire my teammates and help bring us together. The chants we do during the pregame are not for anyone but us, so we don't talk about it to the media or explain it until after the season is over. The chant may come to me while Brittany and I are traveling or while I'm in the car or at some other random moment. Or I'll read something that really resonates with me or hear a story that sparks an idea. From there, I figure out a way to communicate it so the whole team can take part and then get feedback from other leaders on the team about how to tweak it to fit our profile.

As we were getting ready for the 2008 season, I felt like we needed something fresh; we needed to shake things up a bit. I've heard that the definition of insanity is to continue to do the same things the same way and expect a different outcome. We'd been doing the same thing the last two years, and it was time to let the guys know that this was a new team, aiming for new results. We'd had a disappointing year in 2007, and we didn't want to fall short of our ultimate goal again. We were switching gears, and 2008 was a new year and another chance for a fresh start.

I thought about it a long time. How could I bring something different, unexpected, and a little surprising to help the team? It clicked with me that the pregame chant was the perfect avenue. Usually a quarterback isn't doing that type of thing-it tends to be the defensive players who take the emotional lead. They're traditionally the ones who get in people's faces and b.u.t.t heads to get everyone fired up before the game. I'm on the opposite end of the spectrum-in terms of both position and personality. I tend to slow things down and stay calm, cool, and poised. A quarterback can't let the emotion of the moment affect his methodical, precise movements. But that year I felt like, as a leader for our team, I needed to get outside my comfort zone. I needed to be the one to get in there with the guys and get them hyped up for the game.

A movie called 300 was released about that time. It was loosely based on the Battle of Thermopylae, which was fought in 480 BC. I was inspired by that film, particularly by the scene where the Spartans are marching to the sea to meet the Persians. They come across the Arcadians, another tribe of Greeks willing to join the fight. These men make a fierce presence-there's a huge crowd of them, and they are decked out with weapons and helmets. But the leader of the Arcadians seems disappointed that there are only three hundred Spartans. He says he thought Sparta would at least match their commitment in terms of the number of soldiers.

In response, the Spartan king Leonidas points at one of the Arcadian warriors and asks his profession. "I'm a potter." He asks another, who responds that he is a sculptor. The third is a blacksmith.

Leonidas turns to his warriors and says, "Spartans! What is your profession?"

As one they hold up their spears and say, "Ha-ooh! Ha-ooh! Ha-ooh!"

"You see, old friend," Leonidas says to the Arcadian commander, "I brought more soldiers than you did."

I loved the mentality of the Spartans: We are soldiers. That's our ident.i.ty. That's what we were trained to do. And we won't waste our time looking at who or what we don't have; we choose to look at what we do have.

I will never relate football to war, nor will I refer to football players as soldiers. The men and women of our military risk their lives every day in the line of duty, and we play a game. But at the same time, our game is violent. So you'd better have something to get your mind right before stepping onto that field.

Here's the chant I came up with based on that scene: I would say, "Who are we?"

And the response from my team was "Saints!"

I would repeat, "Who are we?"

"Saints!"

Then I'd say, "Are we ready?"

The team would respond, "Ha-ooh!"

"Are we ready?"

"Ha-ooh!"

Then I would repeat the whole thing again: "Who are we?"

"Saints!"

"Who are we?"

"Saints!"

"Are we ready?"

"Ha-ooh!"