A Tosa resident since 1991, Christine walks the dog, cooks but avoids housework, writes and reads, and enjoys the company of friends and strangers. Her job takes her around the state, learning about people's health. A Quaker (no, they don't wear blue hats or sell oatmeal or motor oil), she has been known to stand on both sides of the political and philosophic fence at the same time, which is very uncomfortable when you think about it. She writes about pretty much whatever stops in to visit her busy mind at the moment. One reader described her as "incredibly opinionated but not judgmental." That sounds like a good thing to strive for!
This blog entry is dedicated to the late Randy Anderson, who would have been blogging here about the Pack pre-game, game-game, and post-game.
In many respects the game-watching crew was like all others: seated behind chips and salsa, green and gold cake, and with at least one fan who silenced small talk during the game. Eruptions of cheer, despair, or indignation, however, were welcome.
The difference was that I, not a sports fan, was there. But this game was not to be missed or watched alone. The whole point of fandom, I think, is feeling like part of a community. And what fun the game was to watch.
Especially the second half, where the outcome became uncertain.
For me, stories with surprises, come-from-behinds, and suspense about the ending are always the most interesting.
Who could not delight in B.J. Raji's interception? Was I the only one who wondered whether he'd keep control of the ball long enough to lumber into the end zone with it? Whether you call him The Freezer or, as someone suggested, The Garagi, this big man's triumph was a joy to behold.
And not being a committed fan, I could enjoy watching Chicago's third-string quarterback, Caleb Hanie, almost turn the tide.
I am now officially in love with Aaron Rodgers, who looks more like a super hot sociology professor than a football player. I don't care about his third down problems. Like everyone else, I think this man is The Real Thing.
And in Wisconsin, The Real Thing means someone who is both achingly good and modest. Who says things like "The journey is the sweetest part for me. I've really enjoyed the road that I've been forced to take in my career going all the way back to high school. Just being on that journey and having to work for the success I've achieved -- and never being complacent -- has made it that much more satisfying." You can almost think he's from the Midwest, not California.
Watching Rodgers turn over the interviews to older and younger team mates is a huge part of his appeal, and a huge part of what makes him able to inspire and lead. Just his presence seems to lift the spirits of those around him.
Of course, I'm old enough to remember when we felt this way about a young Brett Favre--without the college professor part. I'm almost old enough to remember when we felt that way about Bart Starr. Which makes me wonder what's with the double letters in those names?
I hope the Packers win the Super Bowl. But even more, I think I hope that our insistence on seeing public figures as more perfect than other mortals doesn't contribute to their falls from grace. Aaron, stay strong on the journey, wherever it takes you.
(Sorry about that, Randy. Couldn't help myself.)