b4 Favre

A lot of people have been asking me lately what I think about the whole Brett Favre fiasco. Why? I am unsure. I am not a sports expert nor does my opinion really matter. I suppose it is because I am an avid cheesehead that no longer lives in the Dairy State.

In case you were wondering what my thoughts were on Favre, here it is:

  • I am glad the drama is over. As the old saying goes, “save the drama for your mama.”
  • I am glad the Packers had moved on and put faith in their new QB and team post-Favre.
  • I am glad Favre found a spot on a new team. Go Jets. I am a fan, only for Brett’s sake.
  • I am glad to be a Green Bay Packers fan!!
You know, before Brett Favre the Packers were the Packers–the New York Yankees of football. They will always be the Green Bay Packers with or without Favre. Favre will always be known as a GBP (as my good buddy Caleb Korth says in his thick Wisconsin accent, “Favre 4-ever.”), and one day this mess will be forgotten about when his number is official retired, if he ever decides to retire.

broken nose #5

100_2723.jpgIt was New Years Eve in the back lot of the church we had our first ever old men vs. young men football game. The field was perfect. Soggy and muddy. The teams were recruited ahead of time. The young men had an air of we-can-out-run-these-guys and the old men had an air of with-age-comes-experience.

The game became kind of lopsided with the old men taking the advantage behind their veteran QB, Pete Sr. I play defense mostly, trying to strip the flags from their belts and potential TD’s from their score. For the most part I did okay. Until Kyle Miller took the ball. Kyle Miller has thighs like a tree trunk, but cannot cut East to

West in the mucky terrain. Pastor Kenny and I were going after him at the same time. I reached for Kyle’s flag and snatched it out. I fell in the process right into Pastor K’s knee. CRACK. I knew it right away. It was broken. My nose didn’t bleed  much nor did it hurt all that bad, but it was most certainly bent. Pastor K later took me to the ER in our muddy clothes. I have been down this road 4 other times:

1. baseball (chop hit to the face)

2. softball (flyball blocked by another glove)

3. frisbee (run in between 2 throwers)

4. basketball (elbow in the box)

5. football

So breaking the nose is nothing new. I suppose this Polish shnoze of mine is sort of like a magnet. I needs a little stick that says, “Caution, danger, will break if touched.”

I go to the doc next week to get it worked on. Been there before too. Hopefully this time they will make it a little straighter.

Oh, and the old guys won!

Oh, go milk a cow!!!

Don’t you hate it when people think out loud. Like we want to hear their idiotic jargon. I was enjoying the Wisconsin-Purdue game on Saturday with my family. A perfect day for football. Of course, the Badgers were giving the Boilermakers a royal spanking. However, there was this guy behind us belching boyish comments. Every time WI would score, which was a lot, he would yell silly comments like…

“Oh, go milk a cow”
“Why do you go make some cheese”
“Wisconsin, isn’t that where Jeffrey Damer is from?”
“How about them Packers this year?”
Needless to say, he received the silent treatment. Why start a verbal fight that wouldn’t get anywhere, but hot-headed? So now everytime someone gets on my nerves, in the memory of Captain Crazy-Mouth, I tell my foes to “milk a cow”!!!
This event reminded me of the Christian life. As Christians we wear our Red-Crimson (like Badger) colored clothing stained with the blood of Christ, which leads to ridicule by the Black-as-sin enemy crowd. All the while we come out on top as the winners in real life. Like that rationalization?