I’m a regular guy like you folks. I’m not, in any way, associated with those spiffy suits on the boob-tube who get to stand on the sidelines and drink the gatorade and wipe Coach McCarthy’s hinder. Nope. Like many of you, I ‘spect, I am still waiting for my pair of season tickets. By the most up-to-date estimates, I should reach the top of the ticket waiting list by 3037 ... or rather, when I’m dead. Even then, it will be a happy day. Furthermore, I don’t foresee my request for all-access media passes being fulfilled anytime soon.
That said, I came upon two prime tickets to the Cardinals matchup last weekend, and so me and the wife packed up the pick-up with a party pack of spicy brats, the mini-grill, a few lawn chairs, and a 14-pack of loose beers - mostly PBRs and High Lifes and Hamms Special Lights. Now that’s what I call a Grade A Breakfast. The scene at Lambeau was a moving still life of glorious wonder, with the newly set-back sun warming the masses like so many toads sunnin’ themselves on a fine section of freshly-felled timber. Heavenly.
From that point on, the day only went from great to gang-busters, let me tell you.
The game itself was - obviously - a magnificent all-around triumph. It seems to this old columnist that our young offensive line is finally starting to fire on at least three-fourths of their cylinders, and the reward was having two different backs accumulate 100-yard days through the rushing attack.
The defense, although struggling this season, seemed to take great pleasure in subsequently shutting down former Colt bang-tail Edgerrin James, and for the most part, future super-star QB Matt Leinert.
And those things are all very nice, it’s true, but the highlight of the day (aside from the fine breakfast) was most certainly watching the finest quarterback in recent history go to work. Boy, oh boy. Brett’s sure got it going.
Turns out, me and Mooney witnessed Brett’s first and only Lambeau Leap after his sprightly scramble into the southwestern end-zone corner. Zooo-eeeey! I nearly leapt to mercury myself in all the hullabaloo and excitement, as I myself was also wearing the fabled number four on that day. Well, the rest, as they say, is now history. After the game, in the parking lot, I exchanged numerous high-five-hands and Green and Gold grins with the foo-fa-rawing masses, excited as they were. And then we spent the next week in traffic, smiling with the heater purring and the A.M. radio banging out tunes.
Anyhoo, it was a marvelous time.
Coming up next we travel to the struggling Buffalo Bills, who you have to respect, due to their proximity to the Great Lakes and the fact that they too play out-of-doors amidst freshly fallen snow, occasionally. Much as I respect the Buffalos and their wonderful hot wings, I must admit that they will be the fourth sickly team we will face in a row. Therefore, we should keep the momentum going, and come out with a .500 record at the half-way mark, which is not something I honestly expected to be writing after the 1-4 start. Green Bay - 30, Buffalo - 17.Until next week, then.
F.G., circa 1929
