Originally posted on Facebook HERE
Today is the first Packer football Sunday of the year. I love it. I’m a huge fan of the Packers and the NFL. The first NFL Sunday of the year is a really special day for me (I realize the season started last week, but the Packers played on Friday night this year and we had a family gathering on Sunday — so to me, today is really the start of the Sunday NFL season). I was born in 1959 — the year Vince Lombardi took over the Packers as head coach. By the time I was old enough to remember watching football the Packers were the best team of the decade. Back then they didn’t show home games in real time even if they were sold out — you had to listen to them on the radio, then watch the game after it had already been played on TV. There were six preseason games and a twelve game season. My father was a huge Packer fan. We watched and listened to the games together. I sure loved him. And these Sundays together were the absolute best of times, too. I remember our living room on Doemel Street in Oshkosh. I remember the TV and the radio we used. I remember that when the Packers and Cowboys were playing in the Ice Bowl on December 31, 1967 we had to listen on the radio because it was blacked out. I was seven years old. On third and goal at the Dallas two-foot line with 16 seconds remaining in the game the Packers called a time out and I couldn’t take the pressure, I went and hid under my bed. When Bart Starr snuck it in, my dad came and got me out and we did the greatest touchdown/win celebration I’ll ever have in my life. I’ve basically watched all of every game the Packers have ever played since then. I love the game. I love the team. I love the sport. It’s changed a lot since that time, but my passion hasn’t ever waned. And, especially on the first Packer Sunday of the season, I remember what it was like back then with my dad. I collected football cards and memorized all the statistics (I’ve always loved numbers). I knew all the players. I knew all their numbers. He’d ask me questions, I almost always knew the answers to who the player was, and could give him whatever information was on the back of their trading card if they had one. It’s the longest tradition left in the Geschke family. And I’m the only person left in the Geschke bloodline. It’s up to my stepson and grandson to keep it going now, I guess. Nice to see two more generations of fans in the family. So today, my heart will be with my dad as the Packers hit the field at Lambeau and a new year begins. We probably all have family traditions that feel like this. This one is around sixty years old now, that’s just crazy to me. Traditions that last this long hit in ways nothing else can. It’s a great day. It’s a great life.
