Stay Glorious.

There are times in my life when I realize just how much of a Cheesehead I truly am.  Like the time when I just HAD to go to Lambeau Field and see a game to start off the year 2000--that was quite the road trip, complete with a snowstorm.  Nothing like seeing a game in a field of Cheeseheads!  I was in absolute HEAVEN!  Or the time when I decided to get all dressed up in the green and gold--it was in the early '00s and the Packers were playing the Broncos in the pre-season.  I didn't have tickets, and neither did my BFF, but I had to let the world see my Cheeseheadom.  It was quite the day!  Just hanging out with the tailgaters in my green and gold.

When I became a teacher, there was no doubt what the theme of my classroom would be--a Cheesehead's paradise--with a bit of Language Arts crap thrown in for good measure.  My walls are filled with Packer posters, jerseys, bumper stickers, magnets, framed pictures of the great Pack--heck, I even have a GB Packer Mr. Potato Head in my classroom.  It's awesome.  Of course, the flag is hung right above the great Aaron Rodgers.  That's so all my students have to stand in respect to the great flag of ours--oh, and Aaron Rodgers too.  Coincidental, I'm telling you.  

I have Packer undies, socks, sweatshirts (both pullover and zip-up), t-shirts, sweatpants, workout pants, yoga pants, TONS of jerseys, Cheesehead beer holder, Cheesehead, cheese beads, Packers beads, silk PJs, PJ bottoms, bracelets, jackets, even a Packer robe (courtesy of the parentals for Christmas, thank you very much)--I'm talking just a ton of Packers gear.  I rock the Packers gear every single Monday--and when the playoffs begin every year, I wear a different Packers outfit until they lose throughout the entire playoff run.  

So yesterday, when I was getting my nails done at the salon with my friend, Tina, it was no surprise to anyone that knows me that my nails and toes were done in green and gold.  They're my colors this time of year.  It's what I do.  To say I was excited about today's playoff game is an understatement.  I felt good about this game--my team has had an unbelievably strong season.  15-1 record, home field advantage, even a bye in the first round of the playoffs.  They haven't lost at the great Lambeau field since October 17 of 2010--yeah, they are that good.  I felt great about today's game--so sure of their success.

I decided to do something different this year--meet up with a local Packers fan base at the Blake Street Tavern.  I walked in with my husband--complete with Cheesehead, jersey, and rockin' the cheese beads--and saw a huge group of Packers fans.  It was awesome hanging out with a group that would actually be cheering for the same team as me!  Awesome, until the game began that is.  

What the hell happened?  From the get-go nobody seemed capable of catching Rodgers' throw.  Seriously.  There were times when the receiver was WIDE OPEN and still missed the damn ball.  I was finding myself getting agitated--realizing that while nice to be in the sea of green and gold, I couldn't be myself around these people I just met.

When halftime approached, I looked at my husband and asked him to get the bill.  "You sure you want to go?" he asked me and I nodded my assent.  I needed to scream at the T.V., curse like a sailor, and rant like a crazy person.  This was my team and they needed my outrage.  Okay, perhaps not, but I needed to vent and it wasn't going to happen in public.  I do have SOME couth.  

We got into the car and a few minutes after we pulled away the game came back on.  The Packers were having an amazing drive down the field until...FUMBLE and Giants recovery.  As I screamed an obscenity into the air, my husband laughed just a bit.  I glared over in his direction.  "I knew you wouldn't last in there," he said to me with this absolution in his voice that was making me crazy.  "Why would you say that?  I had a great time in there," I interjected.  "No, you can't be you in there.  Screaming and cursing," and with that nodding over to the radio as another horrid play was being announced.  "Please, just get me home so I can yell at the T.V.," I said and started to stare out of the window.  

Getting home didn't provide any other comfort for me as I watched my team fall completely apart.  The defense was horrific, the offense not worth mentioning--just simply could not get the job done.  Disappointing to say the least.  When the clock finally wound down and the final score displayed, complete and utter disappointment set in.  I wanted to feel the high that I felt last year when my team clinched that Lombardi Trophy.  I wanted it to stay where it belonged--where it originated.  Not going to happen this year.

So as the football season came to a close for this Cheesehead, I put on my cheesy PJ bottoms, my cheesy PJ shirt, and my fuzzy cheesy robe.  And with a downtrodden look on my face, I cuddled next to my honey, waiting for this cloud to pass on over my head.  And it will--it always does when my team loses.  Mostly because there's always another game, another season, another year for this Cheesehead to get lost in her love for the Pack!  

Until next year--GO PACK GO!