Michael A Rossi
Following, rooting, dedicating oneself to the Packers is unlike any other endeavor, either within sports or in life. They are a team that has never had an owner and operates in a tiny market competing against teams from the biggest markets in the world. For those of us born at a time when our formative years saw the end of a dynasty and ushered in over two decades of agonizing mediocrity, we are among the most devoted of all Packer fans. It’s easy to root for a sports team that is always going deep into the playoffs, winning divisions, and demonstrating savvy decisions during draft time. It is quite another when that team is best known for finding ways to lose and invariably making poor decisions off the field. This reality, starting before 1970 and extending beyond 1990, becomes excruciating for someone living fifteen hundred miles away from Green Bay. This is exactly what Tundra Tales seeks to capture. It is a collection of stories about one individual but can find empathy from the legions of the Green and Yellow Nation around the country. It canvasses trying to root for the visiting team when the hosts are less than accommodating. It highlights the world of an NFL fan before the days of cable television, internet access, websites, or social media. It draws from a time of local blackouts, hoping for a twenty-second clip at halftime during Monday Night Football, and when Ray Nitschke and his Packer Report was the equivalent of an HBO miniseries about the team. Tundra Tales reminds us that there is so much more to the game than just the final score.
