Hey, you, Miami, with your palm trees and balmy breeze! You, with the seafood, and sunshine, and sandy coasts!
Thanks for allowing a couple of pale Midwesterners, with our flat accents and super sweaty brows, to invite ourselves into the aptly named Sun Life Stadium. We admire your style.
We soaked in plenty of vitamin D as we sweated out a tense Packer game, and we soaked in a good measure of southern hospitality as well.
You were good to us during pre-game festivities, and we tailgated in style, trading pleasant jibes with the cheerful folks in teal. You even let us, in our green and gold jerseys, on the field for warm-ups and photo opts. You invited us to hold a corner of the American flag during the national anthem, which was tremendously sporting of you, and we, understanding the opportunity of a lifetime, eagerly accepted.
It would have been enough, you know, to greet us each morning with a spectacular sunrise, cap each day with an equally stunning sunset, and follow all of that with a fat moon dancing over that beautiful ocean of yours.
This time, though, you really outdid yourself.
When our beloved Packers squeaked out a victory in the final six seconds of a hard-fought NFL game Sunday afternoon, you rose to the occasion of your understandable disappointment, held out a stunned but gracious hand, and congratulated us.
You’re a classy city, Miami.
Someday, maybe, you’ll brave the cold confines of the frozen tundra. I’d like to think we Packer fans would extend an equally amiable hand.
Until then, know that as we head North for what the Farmer’s Almanac is predicting will be another historically cold and long winter, we will look back on this weekend in paradise and thank all of you warm souls for your gracious and ubiquitous charm.