My first memory of being a Packers fan is watching Brett Favre running around the Superdome, helmet held high in jubilating hand, celebrating what would soon be the defeat of the Patriots in Super Bowl XXXI. I’ve loved the Packers since I was 10 years old. It’s a love that has never wavered through wins or losses, players coming or players going. It’s a love that transcends all social engagements and rules of proper public behavior. In short, I bleed green and gold.

Since I live in New York, the Packers and I have had a long-distance relationship all these years. We have TV dates every Sunday and sometimes Monday or Thursday and catch up online nearly every day. We have a good thing going on.

But on Tuesday…

…we finally met in person.

I wish you could see a diagram of my brain right now to see all of the directions it’s going in. Aside from all of the exclamation points there are a million different thoughts about where to start and what stories to tell and how to fit 100 pictures into one blog post.

So, since I need to a) organize my thoughts and b) get back on the road, consider this a sneak peak. Cruel, I know, but necessary. North Dakota is calling me to return to its highways and byways and you can’t say no to North Dakota. Well, you probably could, but I’d be scared to. People in flannel mean business.

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