Football

I can think of a few occurrences in my recent adult life where my "like" of football was found to be curious. One was a few years ago while driving home from Grandma's with my parents, Pat, and at that point my soon to be sister-in-law Jenny. It was the end of regular season and a situation where the Packers had to win and the Vikings had to lose for the Pack to continue into the playoffs. The radio station flipped back and forth between the two games. The Packers won but the Vikings game was close and seemingly they would be the victors. I can't remember the details, a missed or made field goal in the last seconds brought a Vikings loss. The energy in the car was ridiculously charged and poor Jenny was wondering what she was getting into, as not only was my dad and Pat into it, but my mother and I were equally gripped. Another was an occasion where a friend stopped by on a Sunday morning and found me on my couch "watching" a Packer game on my TV. The screen was fuzzy despite my best efforts with the tin foil, the sound was terrible so I had the radio on, which was barely audible. "Is it the finals or something?" "No." "Wow, and I thought I knew you." My last story is from the recent Packers Monday Night game. I was at the Peanut Farm watching the game with a friend. Charise called for the score. This was totally normal to me, but he was surprised (or impressed) that Charise knew she could call me for the score, because of course I'd be watching.

So why this love of Football? I often equate it to the whole Packer Baker/Badger mentality of the family I grew up in. I mean, I've been told my Great Grandmother was glued to Badger games on the radio. But it is more than that I suppose. Since I was a baby I was carted around to my brothers games, be it football, basketball or baseball. My family was the kind of family that had dinner together every night and attended all sporting events, that's just how it was. My childhood memories of fall are football. Packers on Sunday and my brother's youth games on Saturdays. The venue had maybe 5 fields, all filled with creatures seemingly made of only shoulder pads and helmets, so funny looking yet endearing at the same time. The fields were fenced off by temporary wooden fences with rough skinny boards that gave you splinters. Were there bleachers? I can't remember, I just remember peering through the fence and trying not to get splinters. I also remember watching a game where a kid fell into the fence and dislocated his knee. I was right there and stared, that little kid way you don't do as an adult, at this kid screaming with his knee bent at an awful angle.

There was a snack shack with salty popcorn. I guess it wasn't a shack, it was a white trailer they parked in the middle of the complex, with some guy my dad always seemed to know handing out goodies keeping the siblings like me happy.

If we were lucky residents of the State Mental Hospital, which was next door, could be seen checking out the happenings.

Let's see, if Pat was 8 when I was born and already playing football and Tim played through High School, that means that for 16 years I watched my brothers play football. Mmmm, lets see, a little math...10 games a year, 3 brothers, each played for 8 years or so...somewhere around a total of 240 games. True, the number of baseball or basketball games is much higher, but those sports weren't a mystery to me.

Here's a list of other things I remember:

• Mouth guard fittings that made me laugh because it looked painful.
• To this day I think Mayflower Movers is a football team.
• My brief stint as the mule kicking cheerleader.
• Getting excited when they were going to play one of the Lunde boys because I thought they were cute.
• The brownish blanket with the orange stripes to keep me warm on the cold days.
• Tim's great run against Albert Lea (or was it Austin) when he got a concussion
• Pat and Mike were number 83...Tim was.........10?

So, I guess what I'm trying to say it that I like football cuz it reminds me of family.

Wishing you all many first downs!