Passion for Pigskin

Maybe it's in the blood. Maybe it's learned. I'm not sure. This week I heard my friends expressing their excitement about a special performance of  "La Boheme" by the Atlanta Opera Company at The Ritz Theatre in Brunswick today. While they discussed what a wonderful event this was going to be, I smiled and nodded, knowing that there was no way that I would be at that rare performance because I would instead have to indulge my own passion.

And so while numerous friends of mine packed The Ritz this afternoon for this exquisite bit of culture, I sat in front of a TV watching the Bears and Packers fight for the NFC Championship title and the right to play in the Super Bowl. Yep. I'll take pigskin over Puccini every time. How much do I love the game? If my son had been a girl, his name was going to be Payton -- as in Walter, "Sweetness," #34 for the Chicago Bears, and one of the best to ever play the game.

I grew up in the Chicago area during the Bears' 1985 Super Bowl campaign and complete domination of the Patriots. Mike Singletary, Dan Hampton, Gary Fencik, Richard Dent, Jimmy Mac, and even The Fridge were household names. I can still sing "The Super Bowl Shuffle" and love the word "outrageousness." Coach Ditka was every bit the hero that the guys on SNL proclaimed him to be. Those were the great days of football.

Though I moved away, I've retained a certain nostalgia for the Bears. Detroit certainly couldn't win my loyalty -- any team that makes Barry Sanders retire from football has a serious problem. In Jersey, there were too many choices, and McNabb with the Eagles just never moved me. Here, we're closer to Jacksonville, so the Jags seem the natural choice, but we've still got so many Falcons fans supporting those Dirty Birds. Just not feelin' it.

After I left Chicago, the only other team I cheered for consistently was the one led by my favorite quarterback: Brett Favre. That's right. I did the unthinkable (for a Chicago girl). I rooted for the Pack. Until those dismal days when Brett lost his mind. When he retired and decided to come back, trying to make the Packers look like the bad guys in a bad situation of his own making. I did not become a Jets fan, and I lost my respect for #4. When this nightmare repeated itself and Favre became a Viking, I vowed never to watch him again, and, for the most part, succeeded.

So today I found myself torn between wanting the Bears to take home a win and hoping that the Packers can make it to the Super Bowl so they can win one without their former franchise player and give Favre the bird as a sweet little farewell present for his last (we hope) season. Not a particular Christian sentiment, I know, but nonetheless something that would give me a sense of satisfaction. A little karmic justice, if you will.

The Packers did win, so it seems karmic justice is just a game away. Now, hopefully Big Ben and the Steelers will be the next to deliver their swan song. Who says football can't be as dramatic as the opera?!

**And this is for those of you who might have missed it the first time around: