REPRINT: XLII: What's important to me this last Year -- Still Stands

No tears in Green Bay
by Pat Darnell January 12, 2008
8:00PM

MooPig is on location at the "Two Girls Waffle House of Ashwaubenon, Wisconsin, off Pilgrim Way, near Lambeau Field.

"We love that Bret Favre, eh," says Winnie.

"I remember when he was just a tot ridin'so fast by the stop and go light on Pilgrim," says Girtha, from the kitchen. "Snow, ice, penguins, seahawks, bears and lions.. he paid them no mind even then as a youngster. Always on time with the newspaper."

"Girtha, do you remember the name of Lombardi Avenue before they named it Lombardi?" said Winnie. Girtha answers no.

I don't mention Green Bay quarter back Brett Favre was born 1969 in Kiln, Mississippi, and subsequently grew up to earn a teaching degree from Old Southern Miss, lettering all the way in sports. These two darlings don't need to hear from a wise guy. Apparently a natural born football player from earliest days, Brett Favre makes gals from 20 to 80 swoon, and some guys too, all the way from Upper Peninsula Michigan, to Akron, to suburbs of Chicago.

Add Hunky Male to Favre's George-Blanda of-the-twenty-first-century football resume.

"Who are the Seahawks, again, Honey?" I said.

"Jaxsonville," she answered.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," said I [whadda dumbassIcanbe, eh?].

Errata; via Pribek.net Re: The Seahawks Actually they were one of the original NFL franchises in 1920. Back then they were known as the Muncie Flyers. A curious decision to move the franchise north of the border to Yellowknife the following year left them out of favor with the rest of the league. After years of toiling on the "chitlin' circuit" and later a long stretch playing lounge gigs, mostly at Ramada Inns, during the 70's and 80's, they relocated once again to Seattle during the dot.com boom.

WHO's Paul? Addendum | Pribek Nation

For XLII -- I pick Packers because I don't recognize the names of teams other than those from last century in 1960's. Names of teams used-to represent Industry. For instance, I was a Packer/Jogger in Chicago-land for a brief time after college. I identified with conservative Midwest values of the Bears in the Midwest. I drove a Lion of a car, Buick Wildcat, in my day: passed everything on the road, except gas stations. [photo: 1919 Packers]

My youth was spent in energy boom-town, Houston, where I was a trogladyte following our Oilers. I watched and lived through earliest commercial airlines' industry introduction of luxury Jets. I still have difficulty with Dallas Cowboys and New England Patriots, and Dolphins since they were "expansion" startups back when. And so on.

I also pick Brett for his Lance Armstrong iron-man demeanor. Today was a classic football encounter of the most rare kind. Snow, light breeze, fluffy flakes falling in a quiet muffling array; growing in intensity as the game progressed. Seahawks' coach standing statuesque concentrating on his playbook, unmoving until snow covered one side of him, leaving his down wind side completely clear; are some of the impressions I have of todays' game.

The way Brett Favre played the angles all afternoon, I suspect he has had this game in the snow on his mind for some time now; since he used the snow as his 12th man.

Of course Mr. Favre is not the only rivet in the Packer's team structure; I like to think he exemplifies pivoting panes of the mystique in football from the past; while affecting the next century cacophonies of gridlocked gridiron gladiators. Clever players always have a special day when some impression from a dream is woven into their actual experience. Personally I loved playing football in snow, and mud, and adverse condition. Somehow the customs and conventions of the game are suspended in those contests, and opportunities are presented that would have not on good-weather days existed.

As the game today progressed, I wondered if all sports writers, and chroniclers, and scribes were seeing it? I listened intent on getting some progressive feedback, until I muted the sound completely. You see the footprints of the players and referees left in the snow looked like herds of wildebeests had just stampeded the stadium [thanks to Lion King, Disney, for that metaphor]. Snow fell the whole game. The previous footprints would get covered. Then as the ball game came back to that end fresh snow would become a mosaic of white and green.

I didn't need commentary as occasionally a head hunter linebacker would streak through the screen and send the ball into new orbit, as the poor offense running back was separated from it along with his forward progress. Then the ensuing long slide print in the snow where a 347 pound defensive tackle slid as he pounces and gathers in the ball. Tracks, like I want to make again, but alas am way beyond that age of play.

Each tangled, turf-baring, higgledy-piggledy, topsy-turvy play instantly followed by the referees' intent without guile to sort it all out, leaping himself into the melees to see precisely where to spot the ball, lest anarchy prevail and shoving turn to unfettered mayhem. At one point the referee stood for long minutes with hand on the spotted ball, as the spotting is contested. He is bent over in a back wrenching pose, until judging of ten levels of surrveilance can be merged with all the technology that surrounds the line of scrimmage, the line ref is all but snowed under. The ball is soaked, the ref's hand is frozen and the players are pacing the field.

Coaches grimace, and a new play is called but changed at the line by Favre, and a weak side slant-in caught for 12 yards.. unheard of. Was it a slight nod by Brett to his tight end? First and ten.

Guess what, I don't watch professional football until the playoffs. Today Brett and all his blockers, along with Mother Natures' beautiful snow, made my seldom patronage of the gridiron gladiators all that I ever wished for. I hope there are many others with the same sparkle in their eyes tonight. Who again are the Seahawks? ..weren't they before the Titannics? Eh, Cheesehead?

Shouldn't we all side with the two sisters at Two Girls Waffle House, and remember the fun of playing in the snow? No barriers; lots of Cheese. >pd/final draft [I could've just said 'great game' but then you would've missed me talking about myself!!]