Sara Week 1: A Lone Cheesehead

Most people are born into a family; I was born into a fandom—a fandom consisting of cheeseheads. So genetically, I too am a cheesehead. 

Long before I knew the meaning of a first down or why everyone would scream “throw the ball, Rodgers!” my autumn Sundays were defined by two colors: green and gold. Punctuated by collective groans and occasional cheers, my earliest memories are of family and friends huddled together in our living room as Jordy Nelson (who I would later learn was the wide receiver) tiptoed into the end zone. 

There truly was no better feeling than putting on my green and gold suit of armor to make the pilgrimage to the holy ground of Lambeau Field. And although my jersey served its purpose better as a dress, sitting just below my knees, the extra fabric was a much needed shield in the -20 degree wind chill. The stadium music pumped through my blood as I watched the players charge onto the frozen tundra; the game became larger than life. Surrounded by a sea of green, gold, and chattering smiles, we all shared one thing: our bond with this team was set in stone. 

My deep-rooted pride was easy to maintain when it was shared by my fellow Midwesterners, but its true test came when my family moved to California. Suddenly, my armor of green and gold made me a target; I was drowning in a new sea of red and gold. To my new peers, my being a cheesehead was a point of mockery, with my lifelong family heritage having now transformed into the punchline of a bad joke. 

This West Coast mockery, however, backfired. Swimming to the top of this new ocean, I doubled down on what I loved most—being a cheesehead. Embracing my love for the Pack in a state full of skeptics became my first lesson in confidence. As I stood alone as a green and gold dot in a stadium full of rivals, I learned that loyalty isn’t convenient, especially when you’re outnumbered in your defense. Yet, no matter how far life takes me from Wisconsin, I only have eyes for one place, the place where I can still feel the freezing blood of green and gold pumping through my veins, the roar of the frozen tundra, and the timeless echoes of “Go Pack Go!” reminding me exactly who I am.