Nothing But Iron: Bold, Cold, Green and Gold by Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. January 19, 2008 For reasons I cannot explain I venture into obscurity before getting to the delightfully obvious business of Packers football . . . Hockey. Yes, hockey, NBI’s biggest area of neglect this side of women’s basketball. Hockey has a controversy because the WCHA screwed up by disallowing a would-be game-tying UW goal against Denver. The WCHA admitted it was a mistake so now, according to talk radio, fans want them to make it right. One caller suggested that the overtime be played at a later date. One said the conference should award Wisconsin a point. Does anybody do stuff like that? The NBA you say? I know it isn’t fair, but games have been ending unfairly for centuries. Unless the rules specifically allow for remedy, the game is over. Tough break. Use it as a motivator. What puzzles me is that I haven’t seen anyone screw up instant replay that badly since my TiVo recorded the weather channel instead of Wisconsin’s basketball win over Illinois to clinch the Big Ten title. Did someone mention Women’s Basketball? Jolene Anderson broke UW’s career scoring record with a 42-point performance against Iowa. Impressive. In the post-game interview she thanked her teammates for helping to pull her out of a slump. Anderson sounded pretty happy. Since I don’t have time to follow women’s hoops more closely, I missed the rest of commentary which surely included the following paraphrased quotes: 1) Personal records are nice, but we lost a big game. 2) Personal records are nice, but our team is 1-4 (now 1-5) in conference play. 3) Personal records are nice but my coach’s job is in jeopardy, given that the Badgers were picked to be near the top of the Big Ten this season. Shame on me for coming out of the hardwoodwork to be critical of the leading scorer in the history of UW women’s basketball, but I refuse to give up on the notion that basketball is a team sport. And, now . . . the Final Four of football . . . I hope that the Giants’ win last weekend wasn’t one of those be-careful-what-you-wish-for deals. I know they are beat up, but any team that can go into Dallas and win–and I don’t know any around here–has a lot of heart, not to mention giant testicles. Not to worry, testicles is a medical word, and I am licensed by the State of Wisconsin to use it at my discretion. I am beyond thrilled to have another game at Lambeau, but could it be that the team we face is actually dangerous? As an aside, is Dallas coming to Green Bay next season, and if not how much is Jerry Jones paying the NFL to prevent it? I think it would be fair to expect the sequel to the home-and-home series. My calendar is wide open after the third week of December. The Packers play on Sunday in the NFC title game. The Packers play on Sunday in the NFC title game. I was pinching myself the second time I said it. There’s a red welt on my arm, so I know I am not dreaming. It will be cold. I say it will be cold because I am trying to win the award for Understatement of the Year. I was the runner up last year when I said Iraq was not an ideal vacation spot. Here is a preview of how cold it will be: Last night we had a family soak in our hot tub whose 101-degree water was 99 degrees warmer than the air surrounding it. Once we got in it was fine, but those few seconds between 93% skin exposure and 97% submersion were real attention getters, and we all agreed we would have to stay there for the next 8 weeks. Kelly leaned her head against the side tub with her damp pony tail hanging over the edge. When she tried to lean forward a few minutes later, she found that her hair had frozen to the outside of the spa. I had to break off the pony tail with a hammer. Bet my Arizona relatives never have this problem. I lied about the hammer–that solution would have betrayed my sensitive side–but her hair really did freeze to the tub and she had to pull pretty hard to break free. People keep asking me what I will wear to the game. Before I can reply that I will wear pretty much everything I own, they usually joke about me going shirtless. I am going shirtless, but not until June. If I were to go shirtless on Sunday at Lambeau Field it would prove me even more stupid than you think I am. The foundation of my game-day outfit is a pair of size-12 hunting boots that would make Clydesdales jealous. These are two sizes bigger than my actual feet, which does compromise my agility. If I actually wore these boots for hunting, I would be limited to hunting snails, morels, Easter eggs and other mostly-stationary quarry. From a winter football watching perspective oversize boots are pure genius. Though wanting for style, my boots have what stylish tight-fitting boots don’t have: air and circulation. Air is an excellent insulator. Circulation is good because blood helps keep my feet from dying and falling off of my legs. Into the extra boot air I will put a second thick pair of socks and still have room for a generator and a couple space heaters. Just above the boots will be heavy waterproof mountaineering (that’s what it says on the label) pants that I bought at REI for slightly less than what I paid for my game ticket. Waterproof is key because you don’t want your experience ruined by some rude New Yorker spilling a beer slushy on your seat. Hey, do you think waterproof and beer proof are the same? Gloves, glove liners, chemical warming packets, t-shirt, sweatshirt, long johns, blanket, stocking cap, hood, face mask and heavy parka round out the ensemble. As a fellow fan from work put it: "I won’t be cute." Prevention of hypothermia and frostbite trumps cute. Another coworker (Iowa fan) kidded that he usually wore a furry thong for cold games. I told him that there are some layers that just shouldn’t be discussed. Biggest fashion regret: I still don’t own any blaze orange. Cold weather favors the Packers, right? This would certainly be the case if the Packers were playing Tampa Bay or Dallas or any other warm-weather team, and that includes domers like the Vikings and Lions, which I consider worse than outdoor warm weather teams. Players from warm climes get homesick awfully fast when tears freeze their eyelashes together. The Giants, on the other hand, are kind of like the Bears, the Steelers and the Packers. They are real men, by choice or by conscription. They are no strangers to inclemency, which I was pleased to find out is a real word. Of course home field, player health, talent and the best crowd anywhere do work to Green Bay’s advantage, but in this case the weather is so severe that either team is susceptible to the quits. It will be a monumental test of wills: Last one to say "Screw Arizona in two weeks, I’ll take the hot shower now," wins. I wonder if youth, that is, youth susceptible to the belief that there will be other opportunities, is a detriment this context. Then I see my 15-year-old walking to the car in windbreaker, no hat and no gloves and I realize that youth, on balance, is good. I heard on the radio that Giants linemen refuse to wear long sleeves in order to prove their toughness. That will look tough for awhile. Then the skin will turn red, then frosty white as the blood vessels constrict down to threads of their formerly robust selves. Skin cells and nerve endings will die. Eeewww alert: squeamish people should skip to next paragraph. Days later the skin will blister and peel and slough off in disgusting blood-encrusted chunks. That will look less tough. Favre made the cover of Sports Illustrated. Jinx you thinks? I thinks it’s not a jinx. It is an honor. Michael Jordan himself said so. And what great photographs have come out of the Snow Bowl, as this divisional championship is now known. Reader Ralph Kamps sent me a dozen photos that his brother, obviously a pro photographer, took last Saturday. They capture the essence of Lambeau Field. I had tickets to that game, but gave them up to watch my boys play basketball. Believe it or not, if given the chance to do it over, I would have kept the same priorities, but that’s another story. If the Packers lose Sunday it will not be because of a magazine cover. Did I mention it will definitely be worth it to brave a thousand bee stings worth of icy air to see the Packers play this game? I know it is so because I was at the last NFC Championship in Lambeau. It was bitterly cold that day too, but that game–the threshold to the Super Bowl–was a Rose Bowl-caliber experience that I will never forget. Will I go to the Super Bowl if the Packers win? Probably not. I am too pragmatic to drop $2500 on a ticket. Besides, I would probably be the only one not wearing a tie or a fur coat. It may be sour grapes, but so much of the Super Bowl is phony and contrived, from its stands full of corporate-interest-couldn’t-give-a-shit fat cats to shiny you-should-see-me celebrities adorned in elegant Hollywood costumes to its cheesy half-time show. On the other hand, the Super Bowl is a legitimate championship game, whose participants earned the right to be there, so I will surely watch unless the obligations of my day job–hey, someone has to give anesthesia on SB Sunday–pull me away from the television. Do you suppose it would be unprofessional to tell a laboring mom-to-be to wait until halftime to get her epidural? So, can anybody beat the Patriots? I can think of one team: The Patriots. Cliche, yes, but give me another scenario under which the quest for perfection can be violated. Randy Moss has had a clean season so far. Let’s get him a prostitute boat or a meter maid or some other source of controversy. Let’s get Brady a tabloid girlfriend and a trip to Mexico and Belichick a new camcorder. Short of self-imposed adversity, the Pats’ likelihood of reaching perfection is ridiculously high. Worst image of all is the image of Moss getting his ring. When that happens, the integrity of sports will have reached a new low. A year of milestones indeed. I am not disloyal, mind you, but realistic. I will cheer to headache, hoarseness and exhaustion in whatever game proves to be the last of my team’s season, but it is simply unfathomable that any of the remaining teams can upset the team with the best coach, best quarterback and best receiver. I will celebrate this fabulous Packers season whether the Packers win or lose to New England, or even if they never get the chance to try. Call me pessimistic. Call me a traitor. Call me wrong. If, on February 3, it turns out I was wrong I will apologize to all of you with the lip-splittingest grin you have ever seen. As soon as I get my voice back. Fun quotes from August 13 NBI: Back up quarterback, Aaron Rodgers, was reasonably productive against what must have been a dilute version of the Steelers defense, though I had returned to lawn care by then. I predict that this will not be the same defense Rodgers will face when the two teams meet again February 3. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Here is more good news: I don't know everything. It could be that the Packers, as at least one team does every year, begin to gel by the midpoint of the season to the point where they become a good team, and everyone says, "Didn't see that coming" and "That Ted Thompson is a genius." I don't really feel it, but I agree it is possible. _________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column written by a fully-shirted author whose current body temperature of 98.6 degrees is not taken for granted. The author, who didn’t see this coming, believes that Ted Thompson is a genius. This issue is dedicated to the Green Bay Packers; may you soon enjoy the taste and smell of your own sweat in the sultry Arizona desert. © 2008 DrTM Enterprises. All rights reserved.