I grew up about 30 minutes away from Green Bay, Wisconsin. To say that football was a big deal in my hometown is a gross understatement. Driving into town there are miles of billboards with the current team’s hero larger than life telling you why you should buy a car at a specific dealership.

We based our decision of what church service to go to by whether the Packer game started early or late. And while we’re on the subject – green and gold jerseys were seen (and welcomed) in even the fanciest of congregations.

Packer players came and gave talks at our schools and Packer players and their families lived just down the street. It was sewn into the fabric of our day to day lives. During football season it was rare to see anything other than a Packer story headline the local paper. And in the off season a good portion of the articles were still based on what the team would look like the coming year.

Maybe because we take pride in the fact we’re a community-owned team, or that we won the first two super bowls, the Packers feel like something we are all a part of. I don’t know anyone without a story of how they or someone in their family survived the Ice Bowl (my dad takes that honor in ours).

What I love about it is the camaraderie. Much like the weather in Wisconsin, locals are happy to celebrate or commiserate together. And like all sports, it’s one of the few things you can watch on tv and actually not guess the ending.

So today I will be 1,000’s of miles away from Lambeau, wearing my favorite Packer shirt and cheering on this team that a lot of people counted out this season – holding my breath, yelling “run run RUN” or “get him get him GET HIM” at a shockingly loud volume. I will also be advising they should just go up the middle because it generally makes no sense and cracks John up (which is also one of my favorite pastimes).

And for a few hours I’ll be transported back in time to basements, family rooms and garages of the past. Cheering along with fans old and new – hoping against hope we get another shot at that Lombardi Trophy.

And win or lose, I’ll be in exactly the same spot next year and all the years that follow. No matter where I end up in the world, football will always keep me connected to home and for that I am forever grateful.

Go Pack Go!