Life of the Lintee Bean

My boyfriend is a Green Bay Packers fan.  He was raised and went to college in Wisconsin, and he’s stayed loyal to his “home” football team.  My dad is a bit of a Packers fan as well.  He grew up in Nebraska (with no professional football team) and when he lived in Wisconsin becoming a Packers fan was natural, I guess.

Living in Chicago, it may seem I would be a fan of the Chicago Bears.  I was when I first moved here, but for various reasons I had a “falling out” with the Bears and was a free agent when my boyfriend and I started dating.  So, influenced by my dad and boyfriend, I’ve become a Packers fan as well.

The Packers and Bears have a HUGE rivalry. So it’s a bit risky being a Packers fan in Chicago. Fortunately I’m female and rather petite,  so I generally avoid being punched in the face when I cheer for the “wrong” team.

A few weeks ago my boyfriend and I went out to watch the Packers game.  Since (stupid) Brett Favre has started playing for the (stupid) Minnesota Vikings, the local FOX channel shows the Vikings game rather than the Packers game when they’re airing at the same time.  This was one of those times.  So, we went to a local chain sports bar to watch football.

The bar was packed, and we shared a table with another nice couple.  It wasn’t long before I was inspired to yell loudly at the television, in a way that divulged my team of choice. The man at our table exclaimed “Hey, you’re a Packers fan, aren’t you?” as if I was a Taliban terrorist. Well, yes I am a Packers fan… but really only because my BOYFRIEND, sitting next to me pretending to watch the Bears game, is a Packers fan.  He’s just more discreet than I am – and resists screaming at the television.  I don’t think I’ve EVER been described as “discreet”.

The backless wooden stools at the sports bar were taking their toll.  So, around halftime we decided to go elsewhere. We decided to try the small local bar only a couple blocks from my house.  Walking by, it looked like a nice little Irish pub.  It was little, and it was Irish, but I’m not sure you’d use the word “nice” to describe it.

I was right at home, of course.  I was raised in Greeley, Nebraska – home of the Greeley Irish Festival.  This little pub was not much different than the taverns in downtown Greeley. The bar’s regulars had obviously been at the bar, drinking heavily, all day.  However, I had no problem with the “rule” that you “high five” the paper leprechaun on the wall.

When the regulars realized I was a Packers fan, and started giving me a hard time, I gave them a hard time right back and they let me be. When the Chicago Blackhawks hockey game started on another TV in the bar, the Packers lost my interest anyway.  So, honestly, I’m not sure how the game turned out.  I guess I’m not THAT much of a Packers fan.

Submitted for publication in The Greeley Citizen.

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