When the Super Bowl buzz starts before the regular season begins, it's a good bet you are living in Green Bay. Once we pass mid season, adults and many school children know the arcane mathematics of which teams have to lose to which other teams to assure that we make the playoffs. Many are the homes with at least a "Packer" Room, if not a bit o' the old Green and Gold spread through each and every corner of the house. This is a town where mailboxes are mounted on miniature goal posts and shutters and awnings can be found that are team colors or emblazoned with the trademarked "G". Even my own history includes brushes with greatness in the form of Packer players and team legends. Like the movie "Idiocracy", folks from around here are often suspicious of intellectual pursuits, especially when they interfere with game day activities.
We also have the distinction of being one of the cheapest places in the entire country to go out for drinks. When they came up with the idea of the mini-extension for big pick ups, the kind that fit in the sleeve for your towing ball, people around here immediately discovered that they were the perfect size to hold two more coolers for extra beer. Now, folks with this arrangement don't have to lower the tailgate to get to their beverages. Wandering through the sea of "tail-gaters" before a home game, drinking and the Packers seem to unite into a single two-headed force to be reckoned with. All manner of creativity and human endeavor can be seen on display. The improvised canopies, the hopped up electrical systems for watching the pre-game show on big screen TVs, and the many meat charring devices are all enlisted to create a party of epic proportions.
One of my favorite contraptions was made from a weed whacker. The tiny gasoline powered motor was enlisted to run a blender so that margaritas could be made on-site. I must admit that some of the awe was inspired by the fact that the traditional old fashioned, a drink that I knew more about as a child than any child has a need to know, was giving way to a nationally popular drink like that. I'm not saying that our drinking ways are all bad, but sometimes I wonder what life here would be like if folks developed other skills. We live in a state that allowed pharmacies to sell bitters for medicinal purposes during prohibition, so drinking is part of the culture. Some things cannot be changed. They say that knowing when you are beaten in your efforts to change the world is a valuable attribute. People here don't even like the suggestion that someone would mess with their access to or enjoyment of fermented fluids or distilled spirits. I had a friend here, who lost his job as a bartender for refusing to serve liquor to an obviously pregnant woman.
There are stories, still hanging in the air around here about the great plays, the goal line stands and the amazing victories that paved the way to legendary status as a football city, but for each of those stories there are hundreds if not thousands of them that honor the drinks that were had to accompany them. I have my own, so as not to feel left out. The playoff game late in the season where we trounced the Carolina's Panthers comes to mind. Having no ticket, I rode bicycle up to Lambeau, just to participate in the tailgate party. I took one of my favorite foods, a fermented, cheese-like spread made out of cashews to share with anyone brave enough to try it. I'm not a big drinker, so I just brought food. About ten minutes before game time, I was leaving, to rush home and watch the game on TV. some folks saw me and invited me to use an extra ticket that they had. It seems that the one fellow's girl-friend had stood him up and they were willing to let me have her seat. During the game, they purchased beer after beer, for all of us. I lost count, but it was enough that late in the third quarter, the fellow I was sitting next to leaned over and said, "With all the beers I have bought you, you're going to have to put out." History tells us that we won that game, but I was out of there! I spent the final quarter trying to not get thrown out by security because I was watching from anywhere but near that guy. I think that I spent the last quarter ducking in and out of vomitoria, catching a few plays at each before moving on to the next. I was drunk enough that I shouldn't have got back on my bike, but we were far enough ahead that I still left a little early to beat traffic.
This season has been especially hard on Packer Country. Most notable was the loss to the Bears, old rivalries die hard. Then, there is the double whammy of winning the games that we did win by such a slender and ugly margin! The dozen or so decent plays we make each week have been easily overshadowed by record numbers of penalties, giving the other team a half dozen chances to beat us, and an injury roster nearly as large as the units we send on to the field! Of course, the Super Bowl buzz is still around, but it has been a bit muted as of late.
Now, the Packers Organization (and it is always referred to as such, so as not to get it confused with the Packers that you can cheer for.) says that they are planning to expand seating in the stadium around the South End Zone. This would ruin the games, especially the late season ones, by blocking out the sun that gloriously fills the stadium during the day. Even when there is thick overcast, the bowl warms up enough to make it tolerable. That playoff game that I spoke of before was on one of those days when the high temperature only rose to about 10 degrees. The difference between being in sun and being in shadow makes a world of difference if you have to sit there for three hours. "Real fans" should not bear the burden of supporting fat cats in this way, losing their only luxury when the mercury drops below freezing. I say, and everyone agrees who has been to a home game in winter, build it up to thirty stories on the north end if you want, but let the sunshine continue to stream into the bowl. That's one of the things that makes Lambeau Field so great!
Sure, we may lose an occasional child or five to senseless drunk driving incidents. We also have our share of other relatives who have passed because of drunken drivers, but we still have The Pack. Even though the certificates that they printed to raise funds for "our team" may not be worth anything, really, we still feel like we own them and that they are worthy of our undying respect and admiration. Go Pack Go! One has to wonder are we the only stadium that is lit and maintained with tax dollars? Where else would they consider closing schools and libraries, but be willing to increase taxes for a game that takes place just eight days per year?
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