Sports Check Blog, Uncategorized

Green Bay Packers weather actual Frozen Tundra of Lambeau Field

 

Fifth-row seats behind the Packers sideline provided a clear view of the action. (Mike Ramczyk/SLN)

 

The Facebook post on my feed Saturday morning read something like this:

“For sale: 2 tickets to Sunday’s Packer game. Row 5 – Row 5! – about the 30-yard line behind Packers’ bench. Selling for face value: $145 each.

Yes, that’s a ton of money, and yes, it’s one-day notice of Sunday’s Green Bay Packers-New York Giants wild-card playoff game.

But I consider myself a die-hard fan and haven’t been to a game in two years.

Throw in the added leverage of my amazing wife, Erin, offering to buy me tickets to the game against the Seahawks a few weeks back (extravagant Christmas gift idea thwarted by massive snowstorm), and I had enough ammunition to move forward.

I’m the man of the house, an adult, it’s a free country, I can come and go as I please.

Nah, I’m no dummy. I knew texting Erin for permission to go to the game was the right thing to do. Chuckle all you want, I deserve it.

The initial text read, “No,” plain and simple, but this was a PLAYOFF game for the PACKERS.

We’re talking bucket list stuff here, people. I’ve attended a Milwaukee Brewers playoff game, but that’s it.

Furthermore, I’ve never been crazy enough to stand outside for three hours in sub-zero temperatures, so I really wanted that full Packers fan experience.

I politely talked my wife into it, and I also talked my friend Matt into it. He wasn’t thrilled about the cold and had to work until 4 a.m. Sunday morning.

Since we had to leave at 10:30, I was asking a lot.

I asked about the proper attire on a public Facebook and Twitter post, and the advice came in like a tsunami, often from people I hadn’t seen or talked to in years.

Layers, cardboard between your boots and the concrete, hand warmers, feet warmers and long underwear were the most common tips, so of course I made a Walgreen’s run.

 

Game day, baby!

By Sunday morning, after a peaceful couple of hours of watching “Secret Life of Pets” with my daughter Cora, I was ready to immerse myself in clothing.

The final tally:

  • Three pairs of socks
  • Two hoodies
  • Two dri-fit shirts
  • Long underwear I wore once in 2015
  • Another pair of underwear
  • Industrial-strength, shoveling-in-an-avalanche boots
  • Long-sleeve sweater
  • Two pairs of sweatpants
  • Winter hat
  • Winter gloves

I was in full-on Ralphie’s brother from “A Christmas Story” mode, so moving was at a minimum.

Making excellent time, we pulled off I-43 in Glendale, just north of Milwaukee, to grab the tickets at my buddy’s house, and we cruised north at a smooth 80 miles an hour.

The I-72 exit to Lambeau Field was jammed up for a good 20 minutes, and several people cut us off to make the exit. Packers fever was in overdrive.

We found awesome parking for $10 at a church about three-quarters of a mile away, and we were inside Lambeau at about 2:40, an hour before kickoff.

A sea of green and gold filled my line of sight on the walk, as tailgaters filled their front yards with blaring music, grills and beverages, and people simply didn’t mind the arctic cold.

After an obligatory selfie with my friend, we were finally in football’s Mecca.

Matt’s bacon-crusted loaded cheese curds had no chance when a likely drunken fan plowed him over, so he bought more. (Mike Ramczyk/SLN)

First, we found our seats after climbing down 50 rows to the field. I busted out the camera video, because it was one of the most beautiful views – fifth row, so close I could see Aaron Rodgers’ runny nose.

We tried to refresh ourselves at Curly’s Pub, but it was now “1919,” all swank and fancy-looking, and the lines were oozing out of the front door.

So we just brown-bagged it with a few concession stand drinks and “Loaded Bacon Crusted Cheese Curds,” (naturally in Wisconsin), and we relaxed and mingled with locals minutes before kickoff.

Minutes into a conversation with a woman and her daughter, both Green Bay residents, it was a mad dash for the seats because the game was about to start.

Matt, who claimed he was already cold, couldn’t buy a break.

A raging fan sprinted to his seats to catch the game and plowed into poor Matt full speed, knocking the heavenly cheese curds into the air and onto Matt’s somewhat-authentic Aaron Rodgers jersey.

The embarrassing moment left Matt speechless, and he immediately walked away to his seat.

I finished my conversation with the nice ladies, and, like a good friend, picked up the five curds from the ground that remained inside the paper container, and tried to return them to my flustered buddy.

That didn’t go over so well, as he was threatening checking out minutes into the first quarter.

 

Big trouble early

Aaron Rodgers didn’t look like his usual baaaaaaad self early, as the Packers punted on their first five possessions.

Jordy Nelson took a spearing helmet hit to the ribs (he broke some and had lung and spleen damage), and the New York Giants quickly had a 6-0 lead into the second quarter.

My face was the only cold part of my body, as my boots were roasting my toes and my layers kept me more than comfortable.

Matt, on the other hand, kept scheming for the perfect time to insert his foot warmers.

Keep in mind we were shoulder to shoulder on the bleachers, and a honking adult space-taker like me couldn’t stand straight-forward with shoulders parallel to the field.

My surface area only allowed a sideways lean, as though I was posing for a professional school photo the entire time.

With little happening, a bathroom break opportunity arose, and as you can guess, even that was an entire thing.

The lines permeated into the concession area, and that was just to get into the door.

All you need to know is someone had their stall door forcefully opened because he was taking too long.

Oh, the humanity.

 

Endorphin overload

It doesn’t get much crazier than a complete Hail Mary pass.

We returned to our seats just in time for Rodgers’ arching rainbow spiral, about 70 yards in the air to Randall Cobb, who calmly caught the football and got both feet down in the back of the end zone to make it 14-6 at the half.

The cell phones came out and recorded the replay, and at one point I thought heads were going to explode.

The momentum carried over to the second half, as the Packers could do no wrong and just kept scoring at will.

Our screams increased in frequency and intensity, and the goal was to lose our voices.

My toes were starting to feel it a little, but my pure adrenaline rush kept me amped up. However, Matt was really to a point where he couldn’t talk and kept mentioning how he wanted to get out of the cold.

But I wasn’t going to let anything mess up this moment, something I will undoubtedly share with my kids and hopefully grandchildren someday.

We left a bit early to beat the rush, which didn’t work at all because we were stuck in traffic for a good 30 minutes after the game, but at least Matt was able to thaw out.

To complete the Green Bay Packers experience, we stopped at the Stadium View to celebrate, and a packed bar was in rowdy spirits. I even joined the dance floor and flaunted my stuff for a bit.

Matt soaked it all in, while sitting like a statue in a chair. I swear he smiled at one point, but his face was still recovering from the frigid conditions.

By our farewell dinner at the beautiful Green Bay Arby’s, Matt finally pepped up, as he could move his extremities again.

The long drive home turned into a karaoke contest, followed by a fight to stay awake.

It was a long, fun-filled day that tested the limits of the human body’s ability to stay warm. We can say we braved the Frozen Tundra, and survived, and the Packers played like world-beaters to boot.

Green Bay is on to Dallas this Sunday evening, and the 13-3 Cowboys should, key word, SHOULD, win.

But Rodgers is playing out of his mind, the Packers’ defense should confuse their rookie quarterback and if Green Bay can contain running back Ezekiel Elliott, anything is possible.

No, I’m not flying to Dallas, I’m not crazy, but I will never forget the day I experienced the painfully delightful frozen tundra of Lambeau Field.

 

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