Tag Archives: green bay packers

Ready for some football

Once, we lived in a castle at the top of a beanstalk. Another time, we were overrun by dinosaurs. We were slaves to Pixar in the “World above Cars.” We drifted in and out of staterooms on the Titanic, miles below the surface. We built a place on the outskirts of Lego City. We lived long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away.  You see, at the Fun Apartment, we don’t just like things. We LIVE them. These kids drill down deep.

And now, we live at Lambeau Field.

The latest Fun Apartment obsession is Green Bay Packers football. (Really, is there any other kind? I’ve not heard of it.)

That’s right, these boys bred in our tiny matchbox live, eat, breathe, and (occasionally) sleep a sport that requires 120  yards to play it properly.

To be fair, I opened the door to this by letting them watch Packer games with me and teaching them what I could about the game. But it didn’t take long before my admittedly casual knowledge was outstripped and they were explaining things to me. Really, how was I to know about the “no forward passing past the line of scrimmage” rule?

And this new love of football incorporates other favorite activities: wrestling! and tackling! And because we live in New York City and it is winter, most of these games happen indoors. Happily, being knocked to the ground can only improve most of our possessions. Or we play in short spurts in our neighborhood playground. That was where I earned my five game suspension for chop blocking. (I did feel very badly about the fat lip. But it went away in a few days.)

It’s changed our discipline game around here, as well. Now transgressions like using our bodies to hurt or not being a kind brother earn the accused received a ten yard penalty and it’s an automatic first down for the injured party. Oddly, this is way more effective than the traditional time out in the bathroom. I just have to carry around a yellow flag.

That’s right folks, it is football all the time around here. They are never off the field. Many games occur on the sidewalks of 8th avenue—which is way better than those corporate dome stadiums. And the beer is cheaper.

Because we never bothered with cable or any other complicated TV business, we often end up watching the game in our local watering hole around the corner, where these guys have become regulars. Once a Buccaneers fan offered to watch them while I ran across the street to switch the laundry. It takes a village, people.

When it’s not game on, it’s still go time. Yesterday I caught the Quarterback standing in the middle of the living room, well middle of the whole apartment, really, with one arm raised in the air. “Umm, what are you doing?” I asked. “Practicing holding the Vince Lombardi trophy,” he answered as if it were the most obvious of answers. Such thoroughness is to be admired.

Another favorite part of these games: instant replay. That is when they decide that something about the play has gone wrong, so they must play it out again. So they do it again. r . . e . . a . . l . . l . . y     s . .l . . o . . w . . l . . y. This is how they do it in the NFL, right?

There is also commentary, which, though influenced by game announcers is still very kid-like: “Here’s the snap and pass is caught by my brother in the most best play ever!”

One side effect of watching too much football is that these kids can now pretty much recite ads for trucks they are too young to drive, insurance they don’t need, food they won’t eat, beer they can’t drink, shows they aren’t allowed to watch and internet service that they don’t understand. Way to hit the demographic sweet spot, advertisers. Money well spent, I’m sure.

There’s an awful lot more testosterone around here, too. I mean I know I’m surrounded, but it hasn’t been quite so locker room-like before. Now, when these yahoos celebrate anything, say correctly identifying their own socks, they throw out their skinny chests and thump them.

However, this was not the ideal year to embrace fandom. Aaron Rodgers’ broken collarbone stunned us all. And the meager offerings the rest of the season gave some insight into what being a Packer Fan in the 1980s must have been like. Still, the future quarterback and wide receiver remain undaunted. And the weekly requests to relocate to Titletown persist.

(Hey, I bet we could get a huge place there. After the Fun Apartment, any average-sized Wisconsin home would feel like Lambeau Field to us.)

What’s funny about this latest obsession is that our entire apartment, including all the fun, would fit inside the area on a field between the zero and one yard line. And yet, this has not affected the scope or scale of these kids’ ambitions. To them, every pass is a hail mary, every run is 80 yards, every kick is into the wind, and every game is the super bowl.

You are all welcome to join us at the Fun Apartment’s Super Bowl party. But you have to sit on our bed to watch the game. And our tv screen is a whopping 14 inches wide.

And after the game is over, we won’t be mourning the end of the season. We’re still playing. There’s no offseason at the Fun Apartment.



Filed under Living Small, The outside world

Team Spirit

A few weeks ago, the Fun Apartment represented at the women’s rights march here in our own backyard. After all, as I tell all three of these guys, several times a week, “Mommy is a person, not a (ladder, tissue, housemaid, miracle worker, etc.)” So, all of my fellas tagged along to support me at what one son referred to as the “Kitty March.”



(You guys! Why didn’t anyone tell me about the hats?!?! I could totally have made the hats!!! My knitting superpowers, gone to waste!!)

Anyway, as we strolled along (the boys were somewhat relieved by the pace, as they had earlier expressed concerns such as “Mommy, I don’t know how to march!”) Our newly minted kindergartener used the opportunity to try to read the signs. The third grader asked a lot of questions, and listened intently. They demolished a contraband bag of cheez-its which greatly increased their stamina for the march. Chants rippled through the crowds, but as one suggested that the current resident of the white house should vacate the premises immediately, the elder boy grew pensive.

“Mommy,” he said. “Remember how you said that when we watch football, we only say good things about our team? How we don’t say bad things about the other team because that’s not nice?”

(Our team, by the way, is the GREEN BAY PACKERS. And this was the day before they were defeated in the playoffs by the team the boys referred to as the Atlantis Falcons. Ok, Lost City, you win. This time.)

“But, isn’t this”–he indicated the chanting–“like saying bad things about the other team? Shouldn’t we just say good things about the Packers–I mean, about women?”

People, I was stunned. Stunned, not only because it meant he had actually heard something I said other than “There’s chocolate for breakfast,” but because he heard something I said and he was right. They go low. WE go high.

So, here we go. I’m only saying good things about my team. And it’s easy to do. You see, my team believes in the dignity of all humans. My team believes in accepting everyone. My team believes in loving our neighbors and caring for our community. On my team, we open doors to welcome people in. My team knows that because all lives matter, we need to ensure that black lives matter. My team is about contributing to something larger than yourself. My team raises people up. My team believes that we have a responsibility to our children, to our planet, and to each other. My team believes in equity. My team has a lot of work to do, but that’s ok, because my team believes in raising our children to be even better than ourselves, so they’ll keep doing that work.


You tell ’em.

(My team also believes you should pick up after yourself, but on this one, my immediate family members are not exactly first round draft picks.)

Wow, there are a lot of good things to say about my team. And guess what: if you want to be on my team, we’d love to have you! We don’t have jerseys, but I am going to make us the hats–looks like there will be plenty of chances to wear them.

Does this post mean that the blog will now become a hotbed of political insights? No, I seriously doubt it.  We’ll probably be back to wondering why our tiny household requires five kinds of toothpaste among four people later this week.

But today, I just need to say it: Go Team!


Filed under The outside world