This Saints superfan whips up spirit while roasting the opposition. Meet The Who Dat Chef. (2024)

Walter “Buddy” Blakesley is a Saints superfan. He's one of those crazies who costumes for games and act as volunteer cheerleaders, keeping fellow fans whipped up on Sundays in the Superdome.

Blakesleycalls himself The Who Dat Chef, and wears custom-embroidered chef’s jackets: gold for regular occasions, black for special events like Monday Night Football, and pink for breast cancer awareness month in October. Below the jacket are pinstriped chef’s pants, atop his head is an old-fashioned chef’s hat and on his feet are tennis shoes with a flame motif.

He looks like a combination of someone who works in the kitchen at Commander’s Palace and a rider in a Mardi Gras parade.

As he cheers, he likes to refer to opposing teams as if they were menu items: Ram and Cheese Sandwiches for Los Angeles, Buckwheat Pancakes for Tampa Bay, and, the tastiest entree of all, Baked Falcon, for Atlanta.

They bleed black & gold: 5 decades of Saints superfans

On the advice of some clown

Blakesley is 62. He’s a natural born New Orleanian who went to Redemptorist High School in the Irish Channel, and served in the Army as a radio operator. He’s been going to Saints games since he was a kid. He and his wife, Carol — aka Mrs. Chef — have had season tickets on and off since way back in the Dome Patrol days.

But Blakesley hasn’t always been a superfan. His conversion came about 12 years ago when he worked at the Audubon Insectarium with an entomologist named Mack Cuenca, who seemed to be a completely normal dude. ButCuenca had an alter ego.

Just like one of the insectarium’s caterpillars turning into a butterfly, on Sundays, Cuenca was transformed into Mack the Quack, the golden-nosed, gregarious Who Dat Clown, a core member of the Saints superfan set.

Cuenca said that Blakesley is one of those guys who’s very knowledgeable about Saints history. “He keeps up with the players like he’s the general manager,” Cuenca said. If you needed a statistic you could "just pick his brain."

A time or two, Cuenca and Blakesley headed to the Dome together for night games directly from work. Naturally, Cuenca wore his clown suit, which gave Blakesley a glimpse of the popularity of superfans.

Cuenca told Blakesley that one didn’t really need any special qualifications to become a superfan. He just needed to invent a costume and wear it down to the Dome. He said “you just do it, you get fans riled up yelling at the top of their lungs,” Blakesley recalled.

Not a real chef, but he plays one on Sundays

Blakesley wanted to give it a try, but he needed to cook up a persona. And he wanted his concept to come about naturally; he didn’t want to force it.

Blakesley wasn’t a professional chef, but he was handy in the kitchen at home, where he regularly wore an apron with a big fleur-de-lis. That was it! The whole concept arrived in a flash, “like an Easy-Bake Oven light coming on,” Blakesley said. “Being that we’re in New Orleans,” he thought, “we need a Who Dat Chef."

Thus he began serving the black and gold multitudes.

“I been cookin’ up opponents since the discovery of fire,” became his battle cry. “TWDC” became his official acronym.

He was now in the mix with the Whistle Monsta, the Bless You Boys Popes, the Who Dat King (Elvis impersonator) and the rest. Blakesley immediately added flavor to the Carnivalesque character of Saints home games.

And he became a celebrity of the tailgating scene too, greeting visitors at The Korner Krewe’s regular spot on the lot between the Dome and Smoothie King Center.

Behind enemy lines

But here's where Blakesley’s brand of Saints superfandom departs from the norm.

A few years ago, Blakesley and Carol traveled to Kansas City to watch the Saints take on the Chiefs. They had a wonderful time, so they decided that instead of investing in Saints season tickets as they always had, they would start spending their money traveling to away games.

Suddenly, the Who Dat Chef became a sort of galloping gourmet. He wore his chef outfit to opposing teams’ stadiums and tailgating spots, where he and his wife were treated like visiting dignitaries and wandering gastronomes. There was much to observe, much to experience.

The NFL franchises he’s visited so far — Cincinnati, Tampa Bay, Houston, Indianapolis and Kansas City — have their share of superfans, just like New Orleans, who turn out in pirate togs, football helmets, ghoulish get-ups and such. It’s the same everywhere, and different too.

Orange soda and Jägermeister? Really?

The tailgating cuisine varies, of course. When offered “burnt ends” in Kansas City, Blakesley advised, always accept. “Burnt ends,” he explained, are a certain cut of meat, barbecued to perfection.

In Cincinnati, The Who Dat Chef sampled something called Skyline Chili, a local take on the all-American standard, which had the scent of cinnamon. Also in Bengals territory, he stumbled on a tailgating gang that attempts to recreate the specialties of the opposing team’s hometown. Though one might have predicted disaster, the Cincinnatians’ version of crawfish and gumbo were “really great,” Blakesley said.

Wearing a chef’s get-up is a great way to be offered food samples, he said. “I say I’m from QC, quality control,” Blakesley said.

The Who Dat Chef’s cross-cultural research has also included sampling special alcoholic beverages preferred by foreign fans.

In Cincinnati, where the gameday temperature dropped to 22 degrees, a group called the Bengal Bomb Squad introduced the traveling New Orleanians to the “Antifreeze co*cktail,” a mixture of Fanta orange soda and Jägermeister.

“It sounds gross, but it works,” Blakesley said.

In Tampa, the piratical fans quaff a special punch called “Grog.” In Colts territory a tailgating group called The Stable downs “Stabilizers.”

To each their own— as it should be

Asked if there are customs elsewhere that Saints fans could incorporate into their own celebrations, The Who Dat Chef says no. Each place has its own traditions, its own vibe. He’s come to recognize that that’s the great thing about pro football fan culture.

Along the line, Blakesley said he was invited to become one of the 300-some members of a national group called Pro Football’s Ultimate Fan Association, which promotes charitable acts as well as over-the-top gridiron devotion.

The PFUFA meets annually in Canton, Ohio, home of the Football Hall of Fame, where members conduct their own awards ceremony.

The Who Dat Chef’s next stop is Dallas, where the Saints travel Sept. 15. Meanwhile, he predicts he’ll still attend a few home games in the Dome as tickets become available. On opening day, he’s not sure he’ll see the game in person, but he’ll certainly be at a tailgate party.

“Go Saints!” he declared.

Yes, chef.