CINCINNATI -- When he saw the final score, cornerback Tory
James was happy for the New Orleans Saints.
The team that represents his hurricane-ravaged hometown won its
season opener on Sunday, no small feat for a collection of players
who had every reason to be distracted and disheartened.
"I know it's got to be tough dealing with what the Saints are
going through," James said. "I feel for them. For them to come
out and play a football game and get a win, that shows a lot."
James and three other Cincinnati Bengals who grew up in the Gulf
area understand what they're enduring. Hurricane Katrina has
scattered their families, destroyed their homes and made their game
seem insignificant.
But football is their livelihood and their teammates need them,
so they keep plugging away at the playbook while trying to do
everything they can to help those who lost everything.
It's not easy, not for an instant.
"Sometimes we're supposed to be big football players and
nothing can touch us," said James, who made his first Pro Bowl
last season. "This one hurts right here."
James, cornerback Greg Brooks and receiver Chris Henry grew up
in the New Orleans area. Safety Reggie Myles is from Pascagoula,
Miss., where his family rode out the storm.
Each has a different story, but they share an anxiety that never
goes away for long. They worry about relatives who are temporarily
living with them -- or, in Myles' case, who have chosen to stay
behind and deal with it.
"I'm still trying to get them to come up and stay with me, but
they won't," said Myles, who grew up in Pascagoula. "It's home,
their roots, their whole lives. My mom and dad and family have
always been there.
"It's kind of hard for me knowing that this has happened and my
parents won't leave and there's nothing I can do to get my people
up here. It's hurtful every day, stressful."
Nothing was more stressful than the first few days after the
storm hit land and the players couldn't get in touch with their
families. Myles broke down in tears when he finally got a call from
his parents.
The calls are still coming for James, who was in Cleveland for
the Bengals' opening 27-13 win on Sunday when a missing member of
his family checked in.
"I was on a bus getting off the plane for the game and my
nephew called me," James said. "We hadn't heard from him. He
called and he's doing good. I think he's in Texas."
A group of Myles' relatives moved to Cincinnati after the storm,
arriving in the middle of the night. He was overjoyed to see them,
but didn't know what to do next.
Caring for so many people can feel overwhelming.
"They showed up, like 16 of them, at my door at 3 o'clock in
the morning, and I've got to go to practice the next day and it was
tough," James said. "I was just lost, trying to help get them
situated."
Coach Marvin Lewis offered to let the players take some time
off, but they decided they needed to "tough it out."
They've been touched by the public's response. James' brother
drove to a gas station with Louisiana plates on his car, and others
in line to fill up asked if he needed housing or anything else.
"Two days ago, my mom, grandmother and aunt went to get their
hair done," Brooks said. "When the people realized they're from
Louisiana, they did all their hair for free."
Myles checks in with his parents as often as he can, making sure
they're surviving in a neighborhood spared from flooding -- the
water came within 2 inches of their home.
"They're all taking turns cooking each day because of the
shortage of food down there," Myles said, sniffling back emotions.
"What they could save from the storm is basically what they've
got. I know it's hard for them down there. I know they're hurting.
They won't ask me for anything. I don't know what to do."
The devastation is never far from the players' thoughts.
"I'm blessed to have a job where I can help out and do things
for them," James said. "I was building a house down there, and
the people who were building my house are calling me from shelters.
The phone is just constantly ringing.
"There's only so much I can do. I try my best, but I still feel
like I'm leaving people behind. It's a funny feeling. Words can't
describe it. And it's going to be like that for a long time."