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by Randy OoneyMy Nickel’s Worth by Randy Ooney
Pack ‘n’ Brew
Back in the fifties, my family would frequently visit our cousins across the St. Croix in Hudson, Wisconsin. I remember those Sundays in the fall when my uncle’s eyes were glued to the black and white TV while Bart Starr and Paul Hornung took on their rivals in the fledgling NFL. Then in the sixties, we Minnesotans got a franchise and even though the purple team was a mere 30 miles from our nearby Wisconsin neighbors, the St. Croix defined the loyalty line. And each year, the Packers made a trip to Minneapolis to play our Vikings. They stayed at the Hopkins House and around midnight, they would order a few large pizzas delivered to their party room. I brought pizza to Paul Hornung, Max McGee, Ray Nitchske, and a few others who I didn’t recognize without a jersey number. Yes, they had a few libations, but no one was sloppy. I never saw Bart Starr or Vince Lombardi at the party. But I was pretty amazed at how those guys could party hearty on Saturday night, and then knock off our Vikings 12 hours later. But the size of the tip to the pizza guy made me a bit of a Packer fan, and the Vikings got even a few years later when the Purple People Eaters matched up against the Cheesy Pizza Eaters.
Much later in life, my district employment responsibility took me to Green Bay once or twice a year. The city of Green Bay is situated on the tip of the aptly named Green Bay, a large arm of Lake Michigan. If you get there, your first stop has to be the Prime Quarter restaurant on Oneida Avenue, about a mile west of Lambeau Field. There for about $18.00 - $25.00, you select your own cut of meat from the cooler, and cook it yourself over a large open pit barbeque. Of course treat yourself to salad and bread from the salad bar, and a potato from the steam table. By the way, the salad bar is not the only “bar” in the restaurant. If I lived in Green Bay, I think I would be broke, happy, and forty pounds heavier. But what a clever idea for a restaurant. Tell the customer to cook their own meal and they keep coming back for more.
But the citizens of Green Bay are fervent about their football team. Sure, they may have a passing interest in the Brewers and Bucks a hundred miles south, but the Packers are Green Bay’s only true local major league sport, and on those autumn Sundays when Lambeau is alive, the rest of the town is quiet as a golf course at 4:00 AM. Speaking of the Brewers, the Twins pretty much had their way with them since 2001, getting even with Bud Selig for suggesting contraction. But now the Brew Crew is on their way to post season, and they have the Twins whining about the unbalanced schedule that requires them to play the Brewers while the White Sox get to play the hapless Cubs. Personally, I think Milwaukee moving to the National League was very bad for the Twins. I enjoyed many games at the Met when the Brewers were in town and all the Wisconsin folks would cross the St. Croix to boo Cecil Cooper. But this year, Ryan Braun is my choice for NL MVP, and good luck to those Brewers in the playoffs. And for all Vikings fans, coaches, players, and cheerleaders: If you have learned one thing about this year’s Packers, Do not, under any circumstance, kick any kickoff or punt, anywhere near Randall Cobb.
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