The Spouse has not been watching the Packers' games lately because The Spouse has convinced himself that he is a jinx. So, we didn't watch the Seahawks game (yes, The Spouse was that serious!), and I've been kicking myself ever since.
I'm not athletic. I don't watch sports. I don't play sports. But I am a Packer fan.
I've been lucky enough to attend two games at Lambeau. Both of them were in December. Each time I wore long underwear, sweats, a parka, a hat with earmuffs over the hat, three pairs of gloves, three pairs of socks, and two of those heat pads in each of my boots and I still froze my "assets" off. I loved every minute of it.
As we watched news clips of the Seattle game, I remarked to The Spouse that I wasn't sure if I could endure doing all of that if we ever got tickets to Lambeau again. He asked if I would go if I could sit in one of those heated luxury boxes.
I said no because that's for wussies.
To really experience "The Frozen Tundra," you must sit in the cold, packed in like sardines, with the cold from the cement floor seeping into your toes and spreading up through your body to numb your brain (which is why you agree to wear the cheese wedge on your head and paint your face green and yellow), all the while screaming your head off and hugging the complete stranger next to you each time the Packers score. That, my friends, is a Packers game.
So, to all of you heading off to Lambeau and below zero temperatures on game day, god bless 'ya. You are better men than I. I'll be with you in spirit though.
Go Pack go!
