I’ve never really been a bucket list kinda person. I did – for a very short time – think I might like to jump out of an airplane… I’ve since come to the realization that after having spent the better part of my adult life saying to myself, “ya gotta be fucking kidding me” maybe skydiving isn’t in my best interests. Don’t take my word for it – ask Annie… she has a shortcut key in her texting app for ‘how does this shit happen to you constantly?’ she just types ‘K’.
So… no, I’m not a bucket list-er but I am a “hey wouldn’t that be cool…”-er. And, when Brett Favre retired (that last time) I said, “I was at Cal’s hall of fame enshrinement, wouldn’t that be cool to be at Brett’s.”
…and it was. That’s me in the jersey Dan and I made (ok, DAN made – but it was my idea). I wanted to sew together his 4 NFL jerseys – since I didn’t have a spare $300+ I settled for some clearance jerseys that had the right emblems/numbers. Some spray adhesive later and I was a hit in Canton. Players go into The Hall without regard to team affiliation… that being said – when the old man said, “Make no mistake about it. I will be remembered as a Packer!” the crowd went absolutely bonkers (if I were 60 pounds thinner – I’d’a ripped my clothes off – it was THAT kind of moment).
So, to put it into perspective – the Baseball Hall of Fame ceremony is free – first come first serve. We had rooms an hour from Cooperstown; the night before Cal was inducted my dad said, “You’re a nut, we are not leaving at 4am…” The next morning when he met me in the lobby at 4am, he said, “This is ridiculous, we’re going to look like idiots sitting in an empty field at 5 in the morning for a 2pm ceremony.” When we got to the venue we set up our chairs right in the middle – behind the 74 rows of people who got there before us.
It was free, it was an afternoon.
The Pro Football Hall of Fame ceremony is so very far removed from free they’ve had to make a weekend of it to justify the expense. My husband, having grown accustom to my whims and never feeling threatened by my unabashed lust for Brett – was all in (our promise to pay off the credit cards be damned!).
I wanted the diamond package, hoped for the platinum package, asked for the gold package and got the silver package (btw, I looked down my nose at the bronze package people all weekend). The problem with being Dan and Karen is – we get screwed at the diamond level… chances were pretty danged good we’d have issues as silver people.
Nonetheless, ever the optimists (or just plain stupid…) we showed up for the first event – a Tim McGraw concert. We shuffled to our section like prodded cattle and…wait…first let me say something about myself here. I consider myself of above average intelligence – I’m not a shit about it, I just think I’m ok smart; yet for some reason – venue seating confounds me. It never seems to be as easy as it should be. Section, row, seat… easy enough – but it just never is. So, I sort of fret – it is the most embarrassing inducer of panic to which I will admit (the other panic inducers generally involve the shower, not feeling well and thoughts of dying naked). Anyway, it goes without saying – when we got to section 115, looking for row 9, I was already on edge – and then… the unthinkable… section 115 stopped at row 8. Oh.dear.god.the.sweating.
Long story short – my worst fears weren’t realized – I wasn’t just stupid… section 115 DID indeed stop at row 8… our seats didn’t exist. Yes, for me, absolutely, this is more agreeable than finding out I’m a dumbass.
There were about 25 of us hoping section 15 didn’t end at row 8 – the other 23 of us were ANGRY. Dan and I couldn’t have cared less. While the others were seeking a pound of flesh, I was goofing around demanding free beers (which we got) and wondering why people need to see anything at a concert. It ended like this – we went from seats just slightly better than those bronze suckahs to:
I sat there drinking my free beer thinking about all the diamond people who paid a shitload more money sitting behind us…
The next day was the enshrinement ceremony. Again… being Dan and Karen – we had to fight our way to our seats. The entrance to our section serviced 3 sections – this was the case for sections 124, 125, and 126 only… every other section in that stadium had an entrance dedicated to only 1 section. We stood in line for about 20 minutes just to get into our seats. Oh! it should also be mentioned – the only beer of reasonable access was Bud and Bud Light – in a stadium… it’s like going to the beach and only being able to find breaded shrimp. Anyway, we finally got to our bleacher seats (a la Lambeau) and looked down at this:
…an entire stage of HOLY HELL! The talent on that stage… (Chris Berman notwithstanding).
The speeches dronnnnnnned onnnnnnnnnn. About 40 minutes each. I tried to be patient – only 303 people have busts in the HOF – when my boy is standing there in his gold jacket telling the world about me and how wonderful I am (he’ll probably even mention his dad, pop, the magnificent kids he’s bound to have and that bitch he’ll have married…) I want people to sit and listen to him, really listen to him… so I kept my sighing to a minimum. I’m not gonna lie – the 2 men enshrined posthumously – were my non-Favre favorites. (Again, because I was involved – this class had more people than most, some years had TWO, 2016 had eight…). Finally the old man took the podium.
I was enraptured, but then… I could listen to that man read a medical journal. The next time you have 36 minutes to kill – youtube his speech, it was sweet, honest, funny, poignant… it was Favre. I cried, I jumped up and down, I laughed overzealously, and I sat there wondering if football will ever know another player like him… When he walked away from the microphone, I mourned his retirement all over again.
The next day was the Hall of Fame game – the kickoff of NFL 2016. I wasn’t crazy invested – watching 3rd stingers vie for a roster spot is not loads of fun but I’d read that Andrew Luck was starting for the Colts so… it couldn’t be all bad.
We parked in our regular spot and began the short walk to the stadium, passing the same home owners we’d passed the previous 2 days; nodding as if we’d developed a deep bond…
“Game’s cancelled”
we laughed…
“no… seriously! They canceled the game!”
heh?
True story.
The teams took the field like this:
…no pads, no helmets, just jerseys, shorts and bad field paint. We were neither devastated nor surprised – it’s our life. In this situation as in the concert snafu – I think Dan and I were the only fans who didn’t really care. The fans were going nuts… I never understand that – I mean, I’m pretty sure the NFL and the Hall of Fame didn’t want for this to happen.
The beauty for us was: we hadn’t allotted time to check out the actual Hall of Fame; so we took this opportunity. It’s pretty neat. Along with not being a bucket list kinda person, I’m also not a museum type – too much to see and read and it never seems to be organized in an easy to follow manner… it’s overwhelming. They got shit on every wall, all over the floor… You lay that stuff out in a straight line and I’m all in.
We checked out all the busts (I missed Lombardi – didn’t look for him till ’75… apparently back then there was no 5 year wait period… he was ’71). The ’15 and ’16 enshrinees were around a corner; when one rounds this corner, one comes upon a HUGE pole/column which blocks one’s view. So, I stood there looking at the crowd standing in front of the bust I wanted to see – wondering why they all seemed so frantic to get a picture of a bust (ha! I’ve read that last sentence 6 times… this is the first time I read it dirty – I’m losing my touch). Anyway, I was all, “it’s a bust, …’ll be there for a while,” (I thought this – I try to only be an asshole at home).
Something made me lean around the pole. I saw a gold jacket – wrapped around a shoulder! wait… WHAT????
Tony Dungy – no shit… standing 3 feet from me (being me… 2 of those feet were consumed by column). He was at his bust with his special needs son; graciously took a few fan pictures and walked away before I could get my phone out… (I told you I’m not a museum person – I rolled my eyes at every picture taker there).
But… I did get a picture of this:
Welcome home 4….
And then I got a picture of this:
…just waiting for “the Green Bay Packers” to be etched in.
Meh… it was a good weekend all-in-all (and we’re getting some refunds, to boot). The lack of good beer was troublesome, the lack of concert seats started out bothersome but ended well, The Speech, as it will now be called, was perfection, the cancelation of the game was neither here nor there for me, so I’d say the beer was the only disturbing issue….
Dan and I had a few days to ourselves. We weren’t on an oppressive schedule. And there was Favre… everything is better with Favre….