Love and football: The scene at Rudolphs Bar-B-Que

Karen Kuebel, New Orleans Saints fan and effervescent southern belle, and Mike Cameron, Vikings fan and self-described Minnesota stoic met and fell in love amid the roiling waters of Hurricane Katrina. On Sunday, they faced the confluence of their teams' long frustrated Super Bowl dreams together at Rudolphs Bar-B-Que in Minneapolis; she with a newly purchased Drew Brees Saints jersey; he with a well-worn Vikings sweatshirt.

Through back and forth scores, Mike and Karen's spirits ebbed and flowed. When the Vikings scored to tie the game late in the fourth quarter, Mike was convinced destiny was on Minnesota's side, especially after quarterback Brett Favre returned to the game after an ankle injury.

"They tried to kill him and they couldn't do it. We're going all the way now," he said.

Karen found some alliances with Indianapolis Colts fans who stayed to watch the game after their victory over the New York Jets.

"For a while, I was the only one screaming but these guys are with me," she said.

But in the end, the final screams belonged to Karen and her Saints; Bourbon Street erupted while Hennepin Avenue was silent.

Karen's patience had paid off with a trip for her Saints to the Super Bowl. And Mike's fears were once again realized.

Tales of team loyalties

The team's distinct personalities were manifested in the loyalties of Karen and Mike, who met in New Orleans in April in 2006, were married there last June and moved to Minnesota in time for a football season as magical as their marriage.

To Mike, the Vikings are a symbol of Minnesota and Minnesotans, a team with four Super Bowl defeats that can get close to the prize but never grab the ring. As a kid growing up in Bloomington, he was able to sneak into Twins games at the old Metropolitan Stadium ("Gate M was where they'd let you in") but never saw the Vikings in person until he was an adult. He prefers watching the games on television.

"It can be really tough to be a Vikings fan because we get there and we have so many high hopes and that's why I think so many people are nervous now," Mike said as game time approached. "They're laying low. It's like going in for surgery."

And after the game?

To Karen, the long-suffering Saints are a symbol of New Orleans. As a child, she went to games during the times when fans wore paper bags over their heads in mock embarrassment. The team lost every game she ever attended, but it was almost immaterial. The party atmosphere that surrounded the games was embraced by the rich and the poor and were a reflection of a special sense of community.

"They were always a horrible team for so many years, but Saints fans are very loyal. It was like, 'Let's go somewhere and have fun and hear music and go some place with good food.' We love them," she said.

On Sunday, she felt the love of her new hometown. The Vikings fans at Rudolphs were gracious and humble, even in defeat, she said.

"They couldn't have been nicer. But they did say be careful walking out on the street," she said, still adorned in her Drew Brees jersey.

Unlike the expectations surrounding a hated Bears or Packers game, it seemed hard to gin up any real seething hatred for the Saints or anything New Orleans on Sunday. A good example was the celebratory blend found at the Favor Cafe on Lake Street in Minneapolis. A restaurant featuring Jamaican, Creole and soul food, it has become a de facto hangout for Saints fans and other displaced New Orleanians since it opened 1 1/2 years ago.

"The Saints are the glue holding the city together right now," said New Orleans resident Lisha Magee, who came up on Friday to watch the game with her boyfriend, Don Francis, who moved from New Orleans to the Twin Cities in 1992 and provided the red beans and rice. "To New Orleans, this game is actually bigger than the Super Bowl. It means so much that we've come this far."

And arrived.