"Unlike most of the country, Wisconsin has 2.7 times the bars as grocery stores."
Okay. It's a few minutes after the game. The earth's climate has not frozen over just yet. There is still time to put these words into digital form so they might be here for archaeologists of another world to find sometime just before the heat death of the universe. Hello travelers from Vulcan.
Death. Taxes. The Lions losing at Lambeau. Well, now we're all immortal sons of bitches living off the grid. The Man can't find us up in these mountains and forests. No sir. We'll brew white lightning and polish shotguns all day. Plant some green nasty sticky-icky up the holler when a few bucks need be had. You'll get used to the harsh winters.
1991 no longer exists. It never happened. Pfft! Just like that. Nirvana's gone. No more Dead Sea Scrolls. UN Resolution 687 is removed, gone is Hurricane Bob. Predator? Never heard of that movie. Never saw any of it. I'll gladly take a polygraph, officer.
Missed kicks. That's the story of this dreadful nightmare. Matt Prater went out and made everything hellish and brazen by missing two point-after kicks. The NFL's wisdom shines bright once again, as it always does! Goodell is the infinite benefactor, proven True and Godly in the excitement wrought by missed kicking. Ho ho. You thought you could do him in. No sir. No sir.
Cornerback. Man after man fell on the field of pretend-battle; Nevin Lawson, Josh Wilson, but their game prevented the Packers from doing anything of curious note. Crezdon Butler was the one to stop the two points that would have sent Wisconsinites home happy, bloated with beer and cheese and processed meats. Crezdon Butler signed to replace Rashean Mathis. Hey, we all said Sheldon White couldn't do anything to prove he could keep the general manager job.
Knuckle ball. Straight through the hands of one of the legends at receiver in this game and the Packers had terrible ominous life. Life, life that a cockroach has after you swear you smashed its glistening body. Mason Crosby skittering out onto the cold Wisconsin evening. Not even blocked, just spun it funny when he kicked it. Ball in the dirt. Ball four. Lions take first, walk in a run. Walk off.
Okay. It's five o'clock. I still don't know where this is going. This feels appropriate for the Lions. The Game Can Still Be Lost. Lost, confused, meandering out there in the darkness, deathly afraid, waiting for another Aaron Rodgers pass that will never come. Someone get the team on a plane and out of Wisconsin. It's not safe there. It's not right. Get them home safely.
What? They broke the streak in a meaningless season? Nonsense. This is what football has to be. Rivalries. The Huns must be Defeated. Worry about the rest another day. When the mind is more lucid. Comprehends its reality better. Yes. Rest. Something to take the edge away. Get us home. Home.