Dear NFL referees

We don’t ask for a lot as we sit on our metal benches at Lambeau Field.  Our cheerleaders wear yellow turtlenecks and our halftime time shows feature two random grocery store shoppers attempting to field punts.

We lug our stadium seats up cement steps and settle in among 70,000 rowdies for only one reason — to watch our Packers play football.

Through the years, the sport has brought a single-minded focus to a state that can be quite contrary in other arenas.

We know a retired theater professor from Madison who discusses effective offensive blocking schemes with as much passion and authority as she dissects Shakespearean sonnets. Our bank tellers wear jerseys and our convenience store soda displays spell out “Go Pack Go” in carefully arranged cardboard.

Every female in my family can throw a perfect spiral, taught as we were at an early age…by my mother.

My octogenarian neighbor wears hand-knitted green and gold leg warmers on game day and cheers her boys on from a small TV set in her kitchen.

What I’m trying to say is, we know a little bit about football here in Wisconsin. We know that pass interference is a penalty…even in the end zone…even when committed against a guy wearing a gold and green uniform.

We know that the ground can’t cause a fumble when the ball pops out mid-stride.

We know these things and we have a new toy at Lambeau. Our giant new scoreboards bookend the stadium with high definition video screens that measure 27 feet high by 48 feet wide.

Welcome back to the NFL, real referees.

What we’re saying here is, we’ll be watching you.