My mama told me …

My cellphone buzzed just as the Packers headed into overtime against Tampa Bay yesterday afternoon at Lambeau Field.

I dug it out of my pocket, noted the caller and obediently answered.

“Hello?” I said.

“Tell your people to stop booing!”


“Yes, of course it’s me. Stop the booing!”

“I’m not booing.”

“Well, I know you aren’t the one booing. You need to get your people to stop booing at Lambeau. It isn’t right.”

With my sister Kathy snickering next to me, I honestly think my mother expected me to stand up and announce to 77,000 frustrated fans that they had better watch their mouths or they were going to be in big trouble.

Fortunately, Brett Hundley pulled himself together and led a game (and season!) saving drive that silenced the boo-birds as the Packers won 26-20.

We had a great time in Section 117, met a few new friends and spotted a few of the old faithful (Hello Mr. I’m-going-to-wear-an-animal-pelt-on-my head-and-nothing-under-my-gaping-green-and-gold-overalls and Welcome Back.)

On the issue of booing the Packers at Lambeau, though, I have to say #IStandWithMyMom (who was, in fact, sitting at home watching the game on TV).

Certainly, I’ve seen crisper offensive efforts. It’s really frustrating to see our talented receivers wide open but empty handed, and I know 84 total yards passing isn’t going to win many football games.

Still, I’m not a fan of the booing.

Here’s hoping the Packers rally and win out the regular season.

But, if they don’t here’s a fair warning to fans at Lambeau: On December 23 my mom will be in the house so you’d better watch your tongue.

Ha ha.

Go Pack Go!

As I’ve said before, my sister Kathy and I have been going to Packer games together for many, many years. We’ve seen lots of great games and a few clunkers. We’re not big fans of the booing, though.
I told my new friend Mark, seated on my right, that I’d include a picture of him in this blog because, in all my years of attending Packer games, I’ve never seen anyone summon a beer from two sections over. Mark locked eyes with the beer vendor in Section 121, nodded, held up two fingers and, with great faith, sent a $20 bill down the row and across two aisles. Sure enough, eventually, two beers made their way back to him. “Only in Lambeau,” he said.

Here’s a little clip of another new friend we made at Lambeau yesterday afternoon:



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