Football Diatribe

When my husband Tim was in high school, he suffered a debilitating injury to his back that prohibited him from playing football for the duration of his high school career. Additionally, it dashed any of his hopes that he may be able to enter college on a scholarship for said sport. As a result, his mind turned away from the grid iron and to art, which is his passion.

Tim continues to be a football fan. His injury did in fact turn him toward sculpting, but he also dreams of being a football coach – and has been one in the past. I knew this going into our marriage. I knew that football played a major part in Tim’s youth just as much as I knew that his art had come to replace the plans that he had made for himself with pigskin in hand. The thing that I also knew was this: Tim is from Minnesota. Therefore, Tim is a Vikings football fan.

This year has been tough on the Vikings. Now keep in mind that the only two sports that I care to turn my head toward are baseball and hockey. Hockey, not so much anymore as I do not like myself when in full hockey fan hysteria. I once raised a stomach ulcer through an entire hockey season due to my love for the St. Louis Blues. I understand the heartache of being a fan.

The Minnesota Vikings have so far won only 2 games out of the seven they have played. Additionally, a handful of players – while off the field – had quite an impact on our little city about a month ago after performing sex acts in public with “guests” (for hire hookers from Washington D.C.) on a chartered boat cruise on Lake Minnetonka. The incident was embarrassing for the fans and indulgent to the point of disgust on the part of the players involved.

After yesterday’s game, the city of Minneapolis is now left to wonder whether or not Dante Culpepper will be able to play for the rest of the season. Can you add injury to insult? It seems so.

This tumultuous time may require that my support and loving care to be directed toward Tim in order to distract him from his beloved team’s foibles and embarrassing behavior. Unfortunately for him, I have decided to take a different tack – one that may alienate him from me for the duration of our marriage: I have decided to come out of the closet as a Green Bay Packers fan.

I realized from day one that admitting to such an abomination in the company of several dozen of his family members – or even being known to like the Green Bay Packers – was out of the question. Tim’s Uncle Charlie would be the one that would end up most offended, with his Viking’s mailbox, his car decals, and his overabundance of Viking Christmas décor. Charlie’s dear wife Pat shares his passion. Together, they are a Viking fan lobbyist group.

I do believe that my choice of team stems from my seasoned dislike of football. To tell you the truth, I just don’t care that much. I don’t think that football is as enchanting as baseball, and I don’t think that it requires as much skill as hockey. So then you may be able to understand that my choosing a football team had very little to do with the actual sport itself.

While living in Washington State, I had the fortune to work with someone that did know a little something about football. That was where I learned the story of the Green Bay Packers. For instance, and this information is from their website, the team is actually owned by the town. Read on:

"One of the more remarkable business stories in American history, the team is kept viable by its stockholders - its unselfish fans. Even more incredible, the Packers have survived during the current era, permeated by free agency and the NFL salary cap. And, thanks in large part to Brown County's passage of the Lambeau Field referendum; the club will remain solvent and highly competitive well into the future. Fans have come to the team's financial rescue on several occasions, including four previous stock sales: 1923, 1935, 1950 and 1997. To protect against someone taking control of the team, the articles of incorporation prohibit any person from owning more than 200,000 shares."

In addition, they represent the largest cheese producer in these United States – Wisconsin – to which I owe my allegiance and fat stores.

This is the underdog team. From their town roots, to Vince Lombardi’s unquestioned and stellar leadership, to today’s success of Bret Favre – not two years my senior and already considered an old man in the sport. From a distance, while still living outside of Seattle, I grew to adore their pluck.

Now I live in Vikings territory. Just leave it to an age old rivalry to sully the nature of my adoration. I cannot speak freely about my football crush on the Packers, as I fear being stoned in the street by an angry mob of Purple People Eaters. I have kept it to myself for two years! Two years too long! Finally, after much contemplation, I adjusted my spine and broke the news to my husband.

I think that by now, after having known this for at least two weeks, he is ready to accept it. I get the feeling that I am still bound to silence at our family gatherings. I don’t have a problem with that. My definition of “fan” when it comes to this particular issue wouldn’t be fully understood by the Rein clan – and I am not about to admit something that would only start an argument.

Instead, I am able to quietly mourn their 1 and 5 record this year and at the same time root for their history, their class, and their underdog vitality. The Vikings may have won one more game than the Packers have this year, but as far as I am concerned, they are light years behind them when it comes to honor and sportsmanship.

Go Pack, go.