PackFaninBucLand
Cheesehead
- Joined
- Aug 14, 2005
- Messages
- 128
- Reaction score
- 1
The decision was uncertain for over three days - make the trip to the NFC Championship game - or perhaps regret it. It meant flying from Tampa to Chicago, staying Saturday night in Madison and heading off after 7:30 Mass at St. Benedicts in Middleton Sunday morning to Green Bay. The experience wouldn't be mine alone, despite having never attended an NFL playoff game. I would be bringing my 15 year old son, a true Packer fan despite being born in Florida.
There were other considerations. My son's high school district soccer schedule that still hadn't been posted at the time of booking the flights. The weather (I'm from Wisconsin but I've been in Florida for over 25 years)! My schedule - I had a meeting in North Carolina on Tuesday. All of these issues paled in comparison to the nagging dilema that tugged at my heart as any trough of artic air could muster. What if we lose?
On the trip back to Madison from Green Bay that night, my son and I hardly spoke. In fact, we barely uttered a word from our seats to our parked rented car in the driveway of the friendly neighbor a couple of blocks from hallowed Lambeau. We couldn't speak then mostly because our words were too muffled under our knit face masks. Even once in the car we hardly spoke because we were cold, tired, and - defeated!
We spent the night at his grandparents home in Madison and woke up to pack our things and head to Chicago for the flight home. He slept most of the way back as he had on the way to Green Bay and I felt pretty good that I must be in fair shape for a nearly 50 year old guy to still be able to make this journey with little sleep and much driving.
Somewhere along the way back on the flight home, we caught each other's eyes just as we had immediately after the Giants' missed field goal that sent the game into overtime. This time, of course, the game was lost and it was all over. Still, the look reminded both of us of the promise that we had already made that, win or lose, we were going to always cherish this game. We had promised that we were going to never regret this game. We both smiled. As I watched him nod off again, another thought came into my head that seemed to soothe my soul, if only for the moment. "It's just a game", I whispered, as I brushed back the hair from his forehead, and everything came back in to perspective.
There were other considerations. My son's high school district soccer schedule that still hadn't been posted at the time of booking the flights. The weather (I'm from Wisconsin but I've been in Florida for over 25 years)! My schedule - I had a meeting in North Carolina on Tuesday. All of these issues paled in comparison to the nagging dilema that tugged at my heart as any trough of artic air could muster. What if we lose?
On the trip back to Madison from Green Bay that night, my son and I hardly spoke. In fact, we barely uttered a word from our seats to our parked rented car in the driveway of the friendly neighbor a couple of blocks from hallowed Lambeau. We couldn't speak then mostly because our words were too muffled under our knit face masks. Even once in the car we hardly spoke because we were cold, tired, and - defeated!
We spent the night at his grandparents home in Madison and woke up to pack our things and head to Chicago for the flight home. He slept most of the way back as he had on the way to Green Bay and I felt pretty good that I must be in fair shape for a nearly 50 year old guy to still be able to make this journey with little sleep and much driving.
Somewhere along the way back on the flight home, we caught each other's eyes just as we had immediately after the Giants' missed field goal that sent the game into overtime. This time, of course, the game was lost and it was all over. Still, the look reminded both of us of the promise that we had already made that, win or lose, we were going to always cherish this game. We had promised that we were going to never regret this game. We both smiled. As I watched him nod off again, another thought came into my head that seemed to soothe my soul, if only for the moment. "It's just a game", I whispered, as I brushed back the hair from his forehead, and everything came back in to perspective.