Are any of the rest of you getting all tingly like I am?
I'd bet these girls have got a bad case of the goose bumps.
Jill and I have pulled-out all of the stops to build-up some good Ju Ju for the glorious return of the Lombardi Trophy to its rightful home in Titletown, USA.
The blizzard with its 50 MPH gusts never budged the expertly lashed Packer Tree from the porch. (Although it blew the Packer Mardi Gras beads all over the place).
The blizzard with its 50 MPH gusts did not shred the mighty Packer Flag.
Nor did the blizzard and its 50 MPH gusts blow away the Packer Yard Sign.
I don't want anybody to get the idea that I'm superstitious but I take these manifestations as a good omen.
All this Packer toughness reminded me of an encounter from my childhood. Mom and dad took my little brother and I off for a winter weekend getaway somewheres back in the 1960s to the Pioneer Inn in Oshkosh.
Brother and I had a room to ourselves next door to mom and dad's room but the connecting door always seemed to be locked. Go figure.
None of this mattered to us anyhow as we were given free rein to go swimming, wander the joint and put our meals on the tab. Little brother and I (for a brief weekend) lived like kings.
Late one afternoon we were all sitting in the whirlpool for a soak while mom and dad imbibed in their customary Manhattans. Brandy, on the rocks, dry vermouth with olives.
In the whirlpool was none other than Ray Nitschke and his wife. They were drinking too. Funny thing about this encounter is what I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday.
Ray had no front teeth.
His teeth had gotten knocked-out playing middle linebacker for Green Bay.
I'm sure he had teeth but he certainly wasn't going to wear them in the whirlpool that day. And if I'm not mistaken little brother might have gotten an autograph following that encounter.
In the interests of piling-on to all of this good Packer Karma I bring you this walk down memory lane... .