13 degrees/calm/cloudy
Pentoga Road
This morning started off on a great note. I was pouring
coffee and didn’t see the cup was filling up. I managed to spill the hot stuff
over the rim, down onto the counter, into a drawer that was barely open, and
onto the floor and my stocking feet. I wonder what else is in store for me
today?
I’ve been lying in a corner, curled up in the fetal position
all night, sucking my thumb, rocking back and forth, and invoking the names of
the Packer greats from the past, Starr, Nitchke, Taylor, Favre, et al., after
watching the Green Bay Packers sputter last night and go down to an agonizing
defeat at the hands of the San Francisco 49er’s. There’s little doubt the
49er’s were the better team and deserved to win, but Lord, it was ugly.
So where does a person go after his favorite team and sport
are finished for the year? The NBA? After the Michael Jordon/Scotty Pippen
years with Chicago, I attempted to follow professional basketball, but was
unable to get past the bling and the bull.
Baseball is like watching grass grow. I couldn’t see the
ball when my eyes were good and enduring three to five minutes of an often
overweight man walking to the pitcher’s mound and discussing the game with
several players, then watching a new pitcher warm up for another five minutes
before the contest can resume, isn’t any fun. I’ve had root canals that were
more entertaining.
I occasionally enjoy a good hockey match, but they got
greedy, the owners and players had hissy fits and what was once a humble, rough
and tough sport has become like every other professional medium, it’s more
about money than the sport and the fans.
I’ll live. It’s time to put away my game-day Packer clothing
for another year and place one foot in front of the other. For those of us
old-timers who were die-hard fans in the 70’s, 80’s, and early 90’s, when we
were looking for the second coming of Vince Lombardi to save the team, we all
know that come next season, the Pack will be back. Whether or not they play any
better remains to be seen, but rest assured, they will be back. Amen.
Saturday was an absolutely nothing-type day. There are no
pictures, no action photos to talk about… nothing. I walked the five miles
after Sargie left for work. It was a miserable hike. The wind was blowing
upwards of thirty miles per hour and though the thermometer was registering 42
degrees, it felt at least thirty degrees colder.
The rest of the day was spent feeding the wood stove. I took
a break from that activity to write a welcome message to the students in my
online classes, took a short nap, and watched 3 episodes of an old mini-series.
It was a lazy day on Pentoga Road.
If you’ll excuse me, I feel another bout of Packer
withdrawals coming on. I think I’ll crawl back into the corner, suck my thumb,
rock back and forth, and invoke the names of former Packer greats. After all, a
man’s work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road…
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