You gotta love Packer fans.
With the snow coming down and over 70,000 “Cheese heads” in attendance, the game was paused while the snowplows cleared off the hash marks. What started with a few flakes became nearly white out conditions as Brett Favre, the Peter Pan of the NFL, led the Packers to another post-season victory. According to reports, after Seattle scored twice on Packers’ turnovers, Favre was a bit concerned. He sure didn’t show it. 173 passing yards and 3 touchdowns later, the Pack was back.
You have to understand. I married into a Packers family and it hasn’t always been easy.
In recent years, it’s been hard to admit it, but I’m a 49er’s gal. That is, the 49ers of Joe and Steve and Ronnie and Brent and most certainly Bill and George and even Mooch. In the days of the “real” 49ers, you would find me on Sunday afternoons, glued to the TV. There was no place else I’d rather be. But times have changed. And boy, how the mighty have fallen. This current configuration has been very difficult to swallow and I must confess, I don’t watch much any more. I just can’t stomach it. But I digress.
My in-laws live and breathe “The Pack”. Family trips to visit the relatives almost always include a visit to some “Packer-related” something, be it the Packer Museum, a trip to Titletown, the sports bar “where the players hang out”, shopping for Packer sports paraphernalia for gifts or even a pilgrimage to the storied Lambeau field itself. Everywhere you turn, it’s Packer country.
Of course, as non-Wisconsin-ites are known to say, “What else is there to do in Wisconsin?” Well, plenty, actually. There’s a visit to the local cheese factory to taste fresh, squeaky cheese curds, a drive up to Door County to feast on pies, jams and cherry infused wine (I know it sounds weird, but it’s not too bad actually) and for those who love dressing in the color orange, deer hunting is big, especially on Thanksgiving Day (but only if the Packers aren’t playing).
In the days when the 49ers were good, it always seemed like it was the Packers who stood in their way. The husband, who is also a 49er fan UNLESS they were playing the Packers, would pull out his green and yellow, put on his “cheese head” and cheer for his boyhood team while I was left to root on the boys from SF by my lonesome. On the days when the Pack would win and the clock ran down, I would cringe when the phone rang, knowing full well it was my brother-in-law, calling to rub it in. I hated those phone calls.
It’s been a long time since those days. The 49ers haven’t been relevant for quite some time and not surprisingly, the calls from Uncle Mike have stopped coming. Call it family indoctrination, but over the years Packer fever has rubbed off on this Niner fan. Next week, I’ll be cheering for old man Favre, the “boy who would not grow up” and his youthful band of “lost boys”.
If anyone has a chance to dethrone the Patriots, it’s Favre and his Pack.