January 20, 2008
Tundra Football, Oh How I Love Thee
As a proud Cheesehead, born and raised in Wisconsin, it’s no surprise to anyone that I am a diehard Green Bay Packers fan. It’s in my blood. You could even say it’s genetic.
At a very young age, I learned the about the legacy of Curly Lambeau, Vince Lombardi, Forrest Gregg, Ray Nitschke, Tony Canadeo, Bart Starr, Mike Holmgren, Reggie White, and of course, Brett Favre.
From as far back as I can remember, my father took us on summer trips to the Packers’ training camp in Green Bay. We’d watch the pre-season scrimmages at Don Hutson center across from Lambeau field.
We anticipated the final whistle blow, when the players would ride their young fans’ bicycles up to the stadium locker rooms after practice.
My little brother, Nathan, and I were eager to gather as many player autographs as possible during our three day vacation. Over the years fought over who would get autographs from Desmond Howard, John Jurkovic, Don Majkowski, Robert Brooks, Travis Jervey, Craig Newsome, Edgar Bennet, LeRoy Butler, Eugene Robinson, Dorsey Levens, Chris Jacke and so many other favorite players.
I have fond memories of those times. I remember at ten years old, how my parents laughed when I proudly exclaimed, “I’m going to get Tony Manwich’s signature on my notebook!” Little did I know that Tony Mandarich would be one of the biggest football flops in NFL history.
I remember the many losing seasons the Packers suffered when I was still in elementary school, and how I was teased for wearing my favorite Green Bay t-shirt to school when we had “football day”.
One classmate mocked, “Dana still likes the Crappers. Ha ha ha ha.”
But my loyalty never wavered. My father, #1 Packers fan himself, taught me to be proud of his team, my team, our team. The legacy is the third oldest in the NFL. The team is a legend in it’s own time.
I can still taste the victory of Super Bowl XXXI, when the Packers beat the New England Patriots. I was a senior in high school, and Monday morning I waltzed into class proudly wearing my Green and Gold. If I close my eyes tight, I can remember the happy dance my father and I did in the middle of the bar that he owned. Super Bowl Sunday took on a whole new meaning that year. Two tickets to paradise…Super Bowl paradise.
I equally remember the sadness when the Packers lost to the Denver Broncos the following year in Super Bowl XXXII. But nothing could stop us from loving our Pack.
There’s a lot of talk going on about the upcoming playoff game against the New York Giants this Sunday. Mike Tanier of Fox Sports shares his brilliant take on what he thinks will happen.
I’m still celebrating the Giants’ amazing win over the Cowboys last week. It was well deserved and I’m very impressed with Eli Manning.
I can’t help but feel a wee bit sad for Tony Romo. The Cowboys’ young quarterback is dating America’s favorite blond dimwit bombshell, and Romo is taking a lot of heat for his pre-game trip to Cabo with the former Mrs. Lachey.
Because Tony hails from Wisconsin, I can’t help but get a little protective over one of our own. Or maybe it’s because I have a teensy crush on the boy.
Oh…Romo. I just can’t understand what you see in that empty-headed ditz.
I’ve shared my loathe of the Dallas Cowboys, and after they lost, I enjoyed reading the sports writers discuss all the possibilities of why Dallas lost to the Giants.
Rick Morrissey had me choking with laughter:
How was Tony Romo supposed to benefit from his off-week trip to Mexico with singer/actress/whatever-it-is-she-is Jessica Simpson? And, more important, how were the Cowboys supposed to benefit from their most important player jetting off to a resort the week before a playoff game?
Oh, I see. You’re telling me the trip allowed Romo to show up more relaxed for the Cowboys-Giants game Sunday. But couldn’t he and Simpson have shared a lazy cigarette in Dallas instead of in Los Cabos and been just as “relaxed” for the game?
Stephen Hawkins had me rolling on the floor:
Terrell Owens’ bottom lip was quivering, his voice wavering. Though his teary eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, he couldn’t hide his disappointment - or his loyalty to quarterback Tony Romo - after the Cowboys’ 21-17 playoff loss to the New York Giants on Sunday.
Yes, it was seeing the cocky, “big-rocks-in-my-ears”, T.O. cry like a baby, that really made my day. He thought he was the best wide receiver ever to play the game. I truly hope this loss humbles him a little bit, but I doubt it will have any effect on his ego.
Romo’s 4th-and-11 pass - intended for Terry Glenn, not a double-covered Owens - was intercepted by R.W. McQuarters in the end zone with nine seconds left.
“They kind of doubled T.O. on the outside and Terry had a guy running with him up the middle,” Romo said. “I tried to throw to the one guy in one-on-one and hope for something lucky.”
Owens pushed his helmet awkwardly on top of his head and walked toward the sideline after the play.
They “Cocky Cowboys” is what my father calls them. And I suppose they have a right to be proud of their winning record, but it seems as though they expect the victories to be handed to them just because they are The Cowboys.
Back in 1996, a miracle occurred: The upstart Panthers, a second-year expansion team, upset the Cowboys in the divisional round. The spirited Panthers were good enough to trip the fading, ring-gorged Cowboys, but they were no match for the Packers at Lambeau. The Packers won, 30-13, then beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl. Favre the callow stat-packer became Favre the Eternal Exemplar of Competitiveness and Manliness, a title he will hold until he retires. (Either Brady, Tim Duncan or Roger Federer gets it next. They’re playing keep-away from Curt Schilling).
The past is prologue. Those 1990s Cowboys were better than this year’s model (more Emmitt Smith, less Cabo and crying), but Tony Romo and company were still the Packers’ greatest pre-Super Bowl hurdle, an obstacle they weren’t likely to overcome. The Giants, like the come-from-nowhere Panthers of yesteryear, are super-spoilers with the league’s best pass rush. The Patriots loom on the horizon, just as they did in 1996. In their unlikely march to the Super Bowl, the Giants may have made straight the path for Favre and the generation 2.0 Packers.
The anticipation of the upcoming Super Bowl is killing me. And the possibility of the Packers meeting up with the Patriots once again, will be like a high school reunion for me — as well as for our beloved Brett Favre. Oh, how we love him so.
Thank God, Favre was never sent to the Jets.
As I blog this, my knees are shaky. I can’t wait for this game. I can’t wait for the legend, Brett Favre, to run onto our field and work his magic. Today, Lambeau Field. Kick-off, 5:42 p.m.
It’s just too much excitement! I can’t stand it!
Da-da Da, Da-da-da Da! Go, Pack! Go! (Packer fans might be the only ones to get that, I think.)
