Dear Drew,

I watched your last game tonight. It wasn’t the way you wanted to hang up your cleats, but you took it in stride.

I remember the first time I saw you play. It was against the Cardinals in the 2009 postseason. That was the first season I watched football, and I saw you win Super Bowl XLIV against the Colts. Call me a bandwagoner, but I became a Saints fan during that run.

You’ve been with me throughout my entire childhood, longer than my oldest friend. I saw you break Dan Marino’s single-season passing yards record, Peyton Manning’s all-time yards record, Peyton Manning’s all-time touchdown record. I saw your season end to the 49ers in 2011, the Minnesota Miracle in 2017, the heartbreaker to the Rams in the 2018 NFC championship game. I saw the three 7-9 seasons from 2014-2017. I watched your greatest triumphs and your most tragic losses.

You taught me to love football. My first NFL jersey was your #9. I remember being the only girl playing football with boys during recess in elementary school. I shocked my teachers with my football knowledge. Even today people are surprised when I tell them I watch football and I’m a Saints fan.

In 4th grade, I wrote a letter to you. I don’t remember exactly what I wrote but I think I asked you for an autograph. You never wrote back but the Saints sent me an envelope back with some team swag. Even though I never got your autograph, I was over the moon.

Today, I’m penning another letter to you. This time, I won’t ask anything of you. I just want to thank you. Thank you for accompanying me on Sundays for the last 11 years. For making me fall in love with football. For teaching me that joy and disappointment come hand in hand and that it’s not about what happens, but how you respond. Thank you for being a competitor. A role model. A pillar. A hero.

Thank you, Drew.

All the best,
Mindy