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V01 the Green Bay Packers

A football story.

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Today, Sunday January 20, 2008 I awoke at 5AM to begin making all sorts of vegan delights for 7 hours of football viewing. Seldom do we watch any television, but today is an exception. My brother Kevin will be here for most of the day to watch The Green Bay Packers in a championship play off game, which we will hopefully win so that we can proceed to the Super bowl. Brett Favre, who is probably the most well known quarter back around, was going to retire last year, but in the hopes of acquiring Randy Moss, a wide receiver from Minnesota he decided to stick around for another year. He signed a contract for this year and alas we didn't accept Moss, most likely because of his mooning our fans at Lambeau Field a couple of years ago. Favre was beside himself, but begrudgingly began another season with mostly rookies. Lo and Behold for the love of Brett the rookies aspired to play as well as many seasoned veterans. So here we are playing today to advance to the Super Bowl.

For years I shunned football stating I was non-violent and couldn't justify watching a bunch of thugs pound the heck out of each other. Having sons changed all that. As my sons grew older they loved the packers and implored me to join in the games. Reluctantly I began watching the Pack with them, and much to my chagrin I was hooked. Now I justified my love of our team by stating that they were a cut above other teams. They were classy and refined for they were as gracious winning as they were humble losing. Mike Sherman their coach forbade any type of showboating, such as spiking the ball or pounding their chest like so many other players engage in. Some actually rally with pom poms and do an obnoxious shuffle, not our guys. Aaron Kampman even did a pilgrimage to India and I think he might be veg, even more reason to love our team. This morning while I was creating scrumptious vegan fare, my husband asked me if I knew why the packers were so named. Having never thought about it I answered no. He then told me they were named for the meat packers in Green Bay.

Now if there was a way to take the spring from my step that did it. How could I be so ignorant, knowing the drive to the Northern woods is speckled with farms, tiny hutches for calves, and worst of all rows of metal sheds that I often compare to concentration camps. I regained my calm when I immediately recalled that our basketball team once named the Marquette Warriors was changed a few years ago to the Eagles in deference to the Native Americans. I thought of how some years from now when animal rights and veganism is mainstream the Packers will be re-named possibly to the Green Bay passerfists.