Saturday night  about 8:45, Kathy and I paid a quick visit to Dick’s Sporting Goods,  looking for an air mattress for Kathy’s dad plus warm winter gloves for me.  (Apparently, my wife was less than enthusiastic about her husband running around wearing two right gloves.  She’s so picky, sometimes.)  It was actually kind of a fun little pit stop because I feel like I’m dipping my toe into an entirely unknown ocean. . . aisles and aisles of hunting and fishing gear, athletic gear, and a plethora of gear that I can’t begin to identify.  I guess I’m about as out of my element as your typical Wisconsin guy would be in the Metropolitan Opera gift shop.

As we were waiting up by the cash registers for a clerk to come by with an answer to a question we had,  we noticed what at the time seemed like a cute sign that had been plastered at both the entrances and exits – a sign which read:

< < <   Green Bay Fans: Immediately following the game, our doors will re-open.  Come get your NFC Championship merchandise right after Green Bay wins the big game.>>>

It didn’t seem like such an audacious thing to say at the time, but it still rubbed me a little bit wrong.  Even in jest, it seems pointless if not downright dangerous to tempt the football fates that way.   As it turns out,  the Packers lost to the NY Giants 23-20. . . and tonight the Giants were the better team – no doubt about it.  But somehow I can’t help but think that Dick – of Dick’s Sporting Goods – has at least a little something to do with this unexpected and unhappy outcome.

Neither Kathy nor I was utterly heartbroken by how the game turned out – and I think part of my thinking is that the way the Packers played tonight, they would most certainly have lost to the Patriots in the Super Bowl, and probably by a score of 63-7. . . so at least their final hour of the season was a hard-fought loss to a fine team with an inspiring story of their own.   And I have to say that it warmed my heart, as it always does, to see so many of the Packers players and coaches lingering on that field, even in the bitter cold, to congratulate their conquerors.  I know that usually happens in the NFL, but it always looks to me like so many of the Packers are exceptionally good sports, win or lose – and Brett Favre leads the pack in that respect, both on the field and in his remarks at the press conference.

If I’m heartbroken, it’s for the truly die-hard Packers fans – and especially those fans who were at Lambeau tonight, freezing their you-know-what’s off.  Walter, shredded ticket and all, was there with our friend Darryl, daughter Laura and her boyfriend.  (Lynn, the “shredder,” remained home, probably still under house arrest.)  My voice student and friend Trevor Parker was there with his family plus fiance Megan.  My heart aches for them all – watching the third coldest game in NFL history not from the cozy comfort of their living room but there in that frozen stadium – only to have it end as it did.   Walking out of that stadium had to feel like walking out of a funeral -except that it was the third coldest funeral in history.  I cannot imagine that kind of misery.

By the way,  I almost puked late this afternoon when I watched the closing moments of the Patriots victory over the Chargers.  As the owners and coaches were presented with the AFC Championship trophy, they began their remarks by congratulating the Chargers on a great effort – and those lovely New England fans in the stands BOOED.   I know who I’m going to be rooting for – the New York Giants – (I like Eli Manning a lot and would love to see NFL history made with Eli and Peyton being the only brother QBs to both win Super Bowl rings.)   And here’s my thought. . . maybe we can persuade Dick’s Sporting Goods Stores to put another smug, over-confident sign in their windows – “Patriot fans- Be sure to stop by right after the Super Bowl for your ‘Patriots are World Champions’ merchandise.”  By the way, I realize that the Patriot players weren’t booing – their fans were . . .   and that’s exactly why nothing would please me more than to have those no-class Patriot fans choke on their own pomposity as their team falls to the Giants in Super Bowl XVII.

Apparently, I’m not quite done venting yet.