Typical head wear in Wisconsin on Sundays.
Typical head wear in Wisconsin on Sundays. Santiago Bilinkis/Flickr
Full disclosure, I'm a Packers fan. A die hard one. So much that I refer to the team as "we."
There's a certain air of superiority Packer fans carry. Others, and I'm thinking about people in Chicago or Dallas, might call it sanctimonious, or just plain confusion. But we Packer fans see our moral excellence as a responsibility. We need to continue the tradition of looking down on bigger, more urban, sophisticated cities with disdain.
There are several arrows in our quiver, of course: Green Bay is the smallest NFL-team city, the name actually reflects a local industry (much like the Brewers 120 miles south). But the poison-tipped argument, as Dave Zirin points out in The New Yorker, is that the Packers are nonprofit.
You better believe we're proud of that. The Pack doesn't need a billion dollar stadium — we'll just play in one for the Super Bowl. We don't need a stadium brought to you by batteries, or razor blades, or banks. We're mighty content with Lambeau Field. Lambeau Field. Named after native son and first coach Curly Lambeau.
To be fair, if there's an NFL team that resembles the Packers, it might be the Steelers. It's got a dedicated fan base in an industrial town. Fans in both those cities have interesting local vernacular (read: Yinzer). And Pittsburgh has its own blue collar native son, Green Bay coach Mike McCarthy. But Pittsburgh, decimated by the end of steel as we know it, has managed to turn itself around. Wisconsin hasn't. Milwaukee, the Badger State's largest city and economic base, is losing population. Things aren't looking up for steel there either. Or meat packing.
So if you're not a football fan, or your team didn't make it, and you want to choose a team to root for, keep the Packers in mind.
While we Packer fans are known as the moral snobs of the league, we're not known for our pragmatism: Green Bay 49 - Pittsburgh 3.