I don't know why I ignored the obvious.....

Just up the street is this big toadstool within which a large group of post-NYE revelers plan to gather. Many - no most - of them will be from out of town, many form Flawda, hardly a center of sophistication, and others from Cincy, incomparably bush league for a city with major league football and baseball. All of them will be wandering the streets of the FQ, many stopping to clutch lamposts and bend over to call out for "Raaalph" or "Eaaarl" in the gutters, trash cans or behind convenient building corners. Pat O'Brien's will be populated by a mob which you really don't want to encounter, even when sober - you and/or them.

Plan a festive meal whilst the game is underway and the Mohoks have been confined. On NYE, just drink and stay off the streets. Almost inevitably, you will fall into some sort of confrontation in which NYPD mounted police are attempting to subdue young insurgents unconcerned with global warming but determined to convince females that baring their breasts is just as appropriate on NYE as during Mardi Gras.