No More Chat Rooms for this Guy

I met him in an online chat room for people who like to sit in the dark and talk about Jesus. His screen name was Balthazar the Enlightened and supposedly he lived in Milwaukee and he had three pigs he called “breakfast, lunch and dinner”. I told him that’s pretty funny, but I had to go because I believed I was in the wrong chat room. I was looking for the room for people who like to drink beer and talk about Leroy Butler - totally different. “You don’t want to go to that chat room,” Balthazar told me. “It’s for sissy Packer fans who hate their lives. Stay here...with me.”

“Well, believe it or not, I actually like my life, Balthazar,” I told him. “And I think that’s extremely RUDE to suggest conversing on the merits of one of the greatest strong safeties in NFL history is for sissies. Did you know Butler was a five-time All Pro or that he invented the Lambeau Leap? No, you probably didn’t. I could go on and on, but I don’t think a MORON like YOU would understand,” I told him. It was OK to get a little cocky in the chat rooms, I thought. Per my chatroom protocol, I had turned on private browsing so he couldn’t track me down and harm me if I happened to strike that particular nerve in Balthazar the Enlightened’s body that would motivate him to do so. Of course, that would never happen, but you have to be careful. You never know with these Internet freaks.

I waited for his response. Nothing. Then, finally, he sent me a message. It was a series of numbers: 66.195.141.3. What the hell? Some coded Bible verse? Wait, was that my ISP address!? Before I could check, I received another message – this time a shortened link. I clicked on it and a new Internet page opened. Here I expected some profane picture but instead it redirected me toward a Google page...and wait a minute, it was a Google map…of my house!!! This pyscho had tracked me down!!

"10… 9… 8….” He wrote. It was at this point I ripped my computer and any attached cords out of the wall. I quickly shut off all the lights and then sat by my front door with a baseball bat for the next 12 hours.

And that was the story of my last chat room experience.

We Got a Phone. 'Cause We Got a Blog.

“These guys are NFL bloggers!” said Jim, introducing us to his group of friends we had never met before. At this point, Franklin and I just look at each other as in “Did he just…? F#ck.”

I can’t speak for other “bloggers,” but although the Ranter is part of our lives, it’s not something we identify ourselves with – certainly not primarily (lest we would’ve attended TBWII – ah, sweet regrets). In fact, we rarely talk about the Ranter – even with each other (think a weekly “Hey, you Ranting this week?” or “Nice Rant.” or “I can’t think of anything to Rant about. Any ideas?”)

After a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence while this registered, someone asked, “What team do you blog about?”

“The Packers!” said Jim the Helpful. Smirks all around. Franklin and I are silent. We’ve been through this before. That is, having to defend our site against all the stereotypes and implications that come with the label of “blogger.” “So, you live in your parents’ basements?” is usually the underlying thought.

“I wouldn’t call it a blog. We do creative posts once in a while that are Packer-related. What are you guys drinking?” I asked, trying to propel the conversation elsewhere. But these people weren’t having it. They were too intrigued by the idea that two, dare I say “normal” guys “blogged” about the Packers.

“So you like, analyze the Packers?” A girl asked, causing us both to burst out laughing. “No. Not at all actually,” Franklin said. “Then what do you write about?” she asked. “I don’t know – the last one I did was substituting the lyrics of ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ by Billy Joel with names of the Packers players. Franklin just wrote about this dream he had. It’s like the Matrix - no one can be told what it is. You have to see it for yourself,” I responded.

Major confusion at this point, to which both Franklin and I could not have cared any less. We have no desire to sell the Ranter to anyone or even explain it properly for that matter. It is what it is and we have fun with it. We will, however, sometimes get very feisty if someone just can’t leave it alone. And that’s exactly what was about to happen as I looked over to see Sassypants McGee yucking it up.

This time, Jim did turn out to be helpful as he explained to them that we were deemed special enough for to be sponsored. “Yeah, show them your phones,” he insisted. This got them to shut up. “Alright, Jim, I will. See, the good folks at Verizon Wireless gave us these phones – the new Droid Razr Maxx – with unlimited plans. They just ask that we try them out and mention them once in a while. Hell, I’ll probably write about this next week. This could be a post.”

At this point, I felt the need to drive home how sweet these phones actually were/are. And the situation could not have been better. In about a two seconds, I was able to pull up the Packer Ranter (thank you, 4G LTE network!). “Here, pass it around, I’m gonna grab some beers,” I said. “Look at that screen!” I heard as I was walking away, feeling a little better about myself.

Franklin and I, NFL bloggers? That’s damn right.

Disclosure: I am participating in the Verizon Wireless Midwest Fans program and have been provided with a wireless device and five months of service in exchange for my honest opinions about the product.

We Didn't Pick the Packers (Your 2012 Green Bay Packers)

To be sung in same rhythm of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” Folks, it works. Don’t believe me? Sing it out loud wherever you are at the top of your lungs.

Editor’s note: Based on total syllable count of the lyrics, relative player public awareness and other considerations I’m not going to mention, not all active roster Packers were included. I still love you Don Barclay and Jerron McMillian. Also, if the rosters were three times as big, I could’ve kept this puppy going as long as the original song.

We Didn't Pick the Packers (Your 2012 Green Bay Packers)

Mason Crosby, Jarrett Bush, Nick Perry, Lattimore,
Jeff Saturday, Josh Sitton, Evan Dietrich-Smith

Mike McCarthy, Charles Woodson, Erik Walden, Casey Hayward,
Greg Jennings, MD Jennings, Bryan Bulaga

Graham Harrell, Sam Shields, Brett Goode, D.J. Smith,
James Jones, Jerel Worthy, Jermichael Finley

Aaron Rodgers, Alex Green, Lambeau’s got some new seats,
Donald Driver, Jordy Nelson, Joe Philbin goodbye

We didn’t pick the Packers
It was Mark and Mike
And that guy named Ted
We didn’t pick the Packers
No, we didn’t choose them
But we’re cheering for them

Dezmond Moses, Brandon Saine, Masthay and Raji
Ryan Taylor, Ryan Pickett, Robert Francois

John Kuhn, Tom Crabtree, DJ Williams, James Starks,
Clay, Cobb, Hawk, House, Favre nowhere to been found

Daniels, Brad Jones, we’re still playoff bound
Marshall Newhouse, Richardson, CJ Wilson, Atrium

Burnett, Benson, Terrell Manning, Tramon,
TJ Lang, Kevin Greene, Bishop tore his hamstring!

We didn’t pick the Packers
It was Mark and Mike
And that guy named Ted
We didn’t pick the Packers
No, we didn’t choose them
But we’re cheering for them

Oh-oh, Dreeeeamweaver....

Just woke up from the following dream. This is 100% true:

I was in Indianapolis wandering around a carnival outside Lucas Oil Stadium. I went inside to find my seats. The seats were similar to high school basketball bleachers. There were 10-12 rows.  I went back outside Lucas Oil Stadium to get something to eat. I had a corn dog, and I ran into two buddies from high school. I returned to the stadium and there were many more rows of bleachers that had filled up quickly. I walked along the side of the bleachers, looked up, and saw Colts fans had surrounded two Packers fans who were screaming, "Go, Pack. Go!" It looked like it was going to get ugly, but for some reason I joined them (Apparently, I'm brave). One Packer fan looked at me and said, "The same thing happened to me." I looked down, and I was wearing a Colts' Peyton Manning jersey. I walked back to the carnival to try to find some Packers gear. I lied to a carny and said I would come back and play skeeball. I came to another carny letting people into an escalator to the rides that were upstairs (This seems unsafe). I told him I needed to get to the other side of the stadium to buy something at the store (I had miraculously been transported back inside). I got to other side of stadium incredibly quickly. I began looking through the Packers items, I remarked to a fellow Packer fan that there was a surprising amount of Packers gear for an opposing teams' stadium. He agreed, and said, "We travel well." The only item that I liked was a women's Rodgers t-shirt. I debated purchasing it, thinking if I bought a big enough size, no one would know. The store was on the 2nd level and overlooked the field, which was strangely small, only 75 yards long. The game suddenly started at 11:00 a.m., I hadn't realized Indianapolis was on Mountain Standard time. The Colts were driving. Somehow Andrew Luck threw a pass to one of the Colts' cheerleaders, which she caught because no one was covering her (Packers must have been playing zone). She was running the wrong way down the field. A Colts' coach ran on the field and stripped the ball from her. Turnover on downs. Packers ball, somehow on their end of the field. Cedric Benson scored a touchdown the next play.

I woke up to my dog staring me in the face. I ran to my computer to document my dream for posterity.

What does the dream mean?

Rereading it...I say it means Packers win by at least 67 points. Go Pack!

The Temptation of the Ranter

A couple weeks ago, Robert and I received a cryptic email asking if we would take part in a top secret communicator assessment program. The only catch? Travel deep into enemy territory and retrieve said communication device. How deep? The heart of the Windy City, that's how deep. In addition, there were numerous other perks that were hinted at, as well. Travel, accommodations....and tickets to a Chicago Bears game. Obviously, our Admiral Ackbar alarms began sounding at a deafening tone. Who would offer this to us? 1) We're Packers bloggers with, frankly, limited talent and an odd sense of humor, 2) we have a minor following, and 3) the Bears. Really? After an intense debate, we warily accepted the offer to join this program.

Saturday, I arrived at our downtown hotel and found Robert enjoying his patented VooDews in his well-appointed room. We ventured out and watched some college football at a cliched Irish Pub, but left at a reasonable hour as we were to be collected at the hotel at 9:00 a.m. In the lobby we were greeted by several other bloggers and our hosts, who were adorned in full Bears paraphernalia. We were pilgrims in an un-holy land. In an effort to prepare ourselves for the sea of navy and orange that we were about to drown in, we partook freely in the ample supply of PBR tallboys while taking the shuttle to So...Sold...Soldier Field. (It's still hard for me to say, I'll just go with "venue" from now on.) When we arrived at the venue, we were whisked to the United Club Buffet...it was glorious. Waffles and omelettes made to order, prime rib, grilled paninis, cheese trays, meat trays, desserts, a nacho bar, a hot dog bar, bloody Mary bar with more fixin's than you could fit in a 32 oz Big Gulp, smoked salmon, oysters, crab, shrimp cocktail, and servers with a ceaseless supply of Boddington's. We even got a chance to have a beer with twitter celebrity @ChicagoBearJew. (Good guy despite his team preference)

Shortly before kickoff we made our way to our seats. The club level seating area's couches and carpeted floors, food and drink stands with minimal lines, clean restrooms, and over abundance of TVs felt more like someone's home than a pro football venue. It was definitely more luxury than anticipated at an NFL game. Our seats were great (for a non-Lambeau venue). Too great.

I started wondering how we ended up here, it ate at me all through the game, and well into our post-game reveling. As I took a bite of the greatest meatball slider ever made at The Purple Pig, it dawned on me...this was all a plot to turn us into stark, raving Bears fans. Robert and I discussed this and agreed that it could be the only rational explanation. I thought that best course of action was to abandon the program and head to O'Hare immediately escaping with our lives and our Packer fanhood intact, we would never stoop so low as to root for the Bears. Robert, however, has always believed in the "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer" mantra. He convinced me that we would remain in the program, use the communication device provided, and gather information on our enemies to the south.

The next day we received our communicators...and, I have to say, they are pretty impressive. We are continuing to explore the features...but rest assured Packers fans, all the while we are monitoring the Bears fans from afar.


Disclosure: I am participating in the Verizon Wireless Midwest Fans program and have been provided with a wireless device and five months of service in exchange for my honest opinions about the product.

Never Tell Me the Odds

Last year, Franklin and I hit up the Las Vegas of the Fox Cities (Oneida Bingo and Casino in Green Bay). The casino was simply hopping. It was, after all, the night before the 2011 NFL opener between the Packers and the Saints. There were even celebrities there, including Big Papi (true story), who had about ten seconds of public facetime before he and his entourage were escorted to a closed-off casino area I’ll probably never experience.

Once we navigated the buzzing, whirring, seizure-inducing lightshow spectacular known as slot machine row, we were able to find two open seats at a modest blackjack table. We cashed in a couple Andrew Jacksons a piece (thanks, Google!), set our bets and were dealt. Now, when I’m gambling at casinos, the last thing I like to do is to offer unsolicited advice to others. However, that didn’t stop the massholes next to us who were visibly irked at us as soon as we sat down.

“You want to split that,” the skinny one with the goatee and matching bracelets said regarding my two sixes. “The dealer’s also showing a six – it’s a bust card.” “Yeah, I know that but you want me to split sixes?” I asked. “The odds tell you too.” Nothing rang a bell, yet I conceded to his “authority.” This was naturally followed by a bust on one of my hands and the dealer beating me on the other with twenty. Things went on like this for the next few minutes, and when the chubby man in the warmup suit finally informed Franklin he “took his card,” we decided to cash out and try another area of the casino.

Having conquered more than a few video games in our day and now being devoid of douche-canoes telling us what to do, video poker seemed like an ideal choice. (I’ve also read payouts are about as close to even as you can get - they’d probably know more here.) But we could not seem to catch a break, no matter how many credits we played, no matter how many times I blew on the coins, and no matter how hard I asserted my telekinesis for a royal flush. It was (John) maddening.

With virtually no money left, we ended up at the lowest common denominator of both strategy and casino gambler pride: nickel slot machines. Even more embarrassing, we had to wait for the Piggly Wiggly Super Savers Club to finally leave to catch their bus. They had been “hogging the area for hours,” a crusty but benign senior in a Gilbert Brown jersey informed us.

With a mere five dollars left, we were just going to hit “max credits” on every spin and get the hell out of there. But something happened: we began winning. Ten, twenty, fifty – even one hundred credits at a time. What was going on? We had seemingly done all the right things back at blackjack and poker, yet here we were in a game almost completely devoid of strategy, recouping our losses and even venturing into the black.

So where am I going with all of this? Probably nowhere, but I’ll try anyway. Last year, the Packers were on one of the hottest streaks of all time but their formula turned out to be too top-heavy to sustain. This year, we’ve run into a little more than bad luck. And now it seems all I hear are the odds – the odds of an 0-1 team winning their division, the odds the Packers have of making playoffs after losing to Seattle. You know what? Never tell me the odds. Because even though the odds are currently against us, I’m as optimistic as ever because I see a team perfecting its balance. We’ve seen glimpses of the offensive dominance of 2011 – now complete with a running game! – as well as a quietly, perhaps significantly improved defense. If I’m putting money down on anything going forward, I’m not only betting on the Packers, but I’m also doubling down. I believe we’re going to find ways to win – however ugly or by chance it may appear.

Unique Packers Items Available As We Speak

Garage sales. They are both interesting and terrifying, and sometimes at the same location. I’ve been to enough to know that before venturing into the great unknown of your neighbor’s hoarding habits, you always should bring with you two things. 1) Enough cash to pounce on that vintage pinball machine you thought you’d never come across again B) More Purrell than necessary to sanitize the Duggars.

Just as interesting, and certainly potentially as terrifying, is the phenomenon known as Craigslist. And while one certainly should be very selective when meeting someone through this site (public places, people!), once in a while, you can really get lucky. To save you time, I already went virtual garage sale shopping and wanted to bring to your attention some unique Packer items. Note: I am not receiving any sort of compensation from these listings (though I am not above that either if anyone is interested down the road;).

One of the first beauties I came across was this timeless Packers crock pot for just $25 (at the moment). I would love to try and sell you on its features and benefits, but the poster does such a great job I’ll let “Curt’s” words do the talking.

“Awesome! Great Rival crock pot with two heat settings (low and hi). The coolest part - it is adorned with the Green Bay Packers logos!!! Great for Packer Parties, Packer game day meals, or taking to the office on game day! Show your fan spirit for the Pack!!! The crock pot is in very good condition and works just fine!”

BAM. See what I mean? I totally agree that without the Packers logos, it’s just your average-looking crock pot from the 90s. But with the logos, baby, it’s simply awesome. Hell, you could inspire an entire man cave from that design. Maybe I will…

Speaking of interior design, why not spruce up your walls with these gorgeous, coordinating oil paintings? Best suited for those with an equally unbridled passion for Favre and the American bald eagle, these dual beauties measure almost as tall as a wooden ruler (shown) and are available at the economical price of $545 dollars each directly from the artist – no middle man here, treasure hunters.

Like most pieces of art, these painting probably have to be appreciated in person for the full effect. The only problem is the creepy basement you’re going to have to venture into to view them. And hey, what’s that séance-looking candle all about? On second thought, you may want to pass and/or alert the local authorities. “Yeah…”

Next, I found something that really knocked my socks off as far as uniqueness and vintage appeal is concerned. The owner of this “full-sized bed with rounded corners” in “fantastic condition” claims that it once belonged to Charlie Mathys. You see, the owner of the house purchased Mathys’s former home and was left with the contents - awesome. Who’s Charlie Mathys, you ask? (I know I did.) Oh, he’s only the first Packers quarterback to beat the Bears back in 1925. Yeah, turns out he was inducted into the Packers Hall of Fame in 1977 along with some guy named Bart Starr. So, nothing special apparently, which is why the bed is only going for $500 OBO. (No word on whether the mattress and quilt come with though.)

 

Finally, this item caught my attention simply for the description alone: “Man’s Box for Jewelry Green Bay Packers w/Free GB Watch” ($40). I have never seen a Man’s Box before. In fact, I didn’t even know they existed, but low and behold, this Man’s Box has “two levels”. That two freaking levels, people! I don’t know exactly what the means, but I know two levels on a Man’s Box has got to be better than one. But wait, there’s more... As “Ray” explains, his Man Box is made of real wood (heyo!) and is also velvet lined (again, heyo!). You know what, I’m not even going to show you the picture in the listing and leave this one up to your imagination.

 

But I do get it, people. Times are tough and money is tight. So if these gems I picked out for you don’t exactly blow your hair back, the interwebs is all yours. There are still a lot of gems out there, I've read somewhere a guy won some great sports memorabilia against some dude while playing poker, apparently the guy ran out of cash and opted to bet one of his collections. That would have been a good bargain if you're good at the game, might wanna start reading some tips from sites like this and look for fellow collectors to play against, and hope that a good collectible item will come it's way to the tables, while you're holding a winning hand, of course. Happy treasure hunting, Packer fans.

Blame Should Be Placed at the Foot of the Hut(t)

After only registering six interceptions last year, Aaron Rodgers already has two in two games this season. I’m far from a mathlete, as excessive amounts of numbers frighten me, but I believe that projects out to sixteen I-N-Ts over the course of the regular season. Having watched ol’ #4 under center, sixteen interceptions doesn’t seem like much, but for Mr. Discount Double-Check, this number is astronomical.

My Spidey sense tells me something is off.

I went back and watched Rodgers’ two interceptions and the several throws that probably should have been interceptions except for the simple fact that the reason defensive players are on defense, is because they can’t catch the ball. After six long minutes of analysis, my razor-sharp football mind still couldn’t break it down and figure out what the heck Rodgers was doing. The interceptions looked like Rodgers was trying to throw directly to the defenders. Inconceivable!

Frustrated, I leaned back in my chair, removed my glasses, and rubbed the bridge of nose…I stared at the ceiling of my film room, and let the gametape (Okay, DVR, but game tape sounds so much cooler) run. Coincidentally, the new Pizza Hut commercial with Rodgers and two chums hanging in his man cave came on. This being the 100^th time I had been subject to said piece of advertising, I merely glanced at the TV and resumed staring off into space. The inane banter of two morons planning to live in Rodgers’ man cave continued on. I reached for the remote, convinced I would find the answer to Rodgers’ issues with one more viewing. One last glance at the fire engine red, mancave set, and I hit rewind…

…god, those commercials are offensively red. They hurt the eyes. I couldn’t imagine spending all that time on set to film them; it would damage your eyesi…

Oh, no. It can’t be…has Pizza Hut, a Plano, Texas based company, succeeded where NFL defenses have not? Has the pizza (if you can call it that) chain affected Rodgers’ ability to avoid costly interceptions by damaging his eyesight? Scoff if you will, but Plano, Texas is a part of the Dallas/Ft. Worth urban sprawl, where some team with a big star on their helmet makes their home.

Fine. It was a stretch to blame the Cowboys, but my amateur ophthalmological diagnosis says that the obnoxious, glaring, soul-stealing, red color of the sets on Rodgers' Pizza Hut commercials have damaged QB1’s eyesight. I am holding Pizza Hut responsible for Rodgers’ uncharacteristic performances. I strongly recommend the Packers’ attorneys have the restaurant chain: 1) cover all his, what are sure to be extensive, eyeball repair costs, 2) investigate Jerry Jones’ relationship with the company, and 3) cease claiming their namesake is actually pizza. Okay, that last one is actually just mine.

As Packer fans, we can only hope that Rodgers’ offseason diet precluded him from actually consuming a “Big Box,” otherwise we will soon be discussing his unfortunate and tragic gastrointestinal maladies, rather than just his optic injuries.

Did you know Old Spice burns armpits? Groin injury for #85? I’m not so sure anymore….

Anything for the Kids

A young, fairly promising student recently contacted the Ranter for help on his school project. Below is the transcript of our communication. His name and school have been withheld to protect his identity, therefore do not try and find him.

Hello sirs. My name is Timothy (Name Withheld). I am a 6th grader at (School Withheld) Middle School. I am doing a report for my english class on sports bloggers. Would you please answer a few questions for my report? I would be very thankful.

Salutations, young Timmy. We’d be happy to answer your questions. Fire away, lil’ sailor, and don’t be shy! We’re here to help.

What does it take to be sports blogger?

Can you wrestle a groundhog and beat him 7 times out of 10? That’s pretty much all it takes. Keep it personal, it allows others to relate to your fandom, and it tends to mean more to YOU that way. For example, talk about how you pinned the groundhog and then stood up and did The Belt followed by The Raji. You also have to be able remember at least one password, or at least have it written down in your wallet.

What credentials do you need to have?

In 1994, Robert chiseled a turtle out of a 2x4. Franklin has a cheese drawer in his fridge.

Do you need to be a good writer to be a blogger?

LOL.

What inspires you both to write?

Franklin rubs the head of his Lynn Dickey bobblehead in a counterclockwise motion then….boom! Idea. Robert listens to the Packerena on repeat while staring at the wall until he’s ready to burst.

Who is your audience?

Well, outside of moms, crazy uncles, and presumably Ted Thompson, I think there are about 6-10 Packer fans (and even a Viking, Lion, and Bear fan or two) that check in every once in a while to either agree, or simply shake their heads with what we post. One thing we have learned: keep posting. People will leave if you get lazy…and The Dude is most certainly lazy (ask your dad what that reference means, Timmy).

Where do you prefer to create?

Within hands- or hairs-reach of the computer.

My English teacher is also a sports blogger. She has a powerlifting blog. She told me ask how much you two stringbeans squat?

Like how many times each day…or what? That hardly seems relevant.

By the way, you guys have really funny hair! Thanks for helping me out.

Please rephrase the question, Timmy. Also, what sort of citations will you be using? We both prefer footnotes.

30 Years Later

It seems like only yesterday that the Packer Ranter Fantasy League was having their 2nd annual draft...a lot has changed in the past thirty years. For starters, the Packers domination hasn't changed, fourteen more Super Bowl titles, 25 Division titles, Lambeau now seats 180,000 and sleeps 600. Yeah. There's a hotel attached....this ain't your Dad's Frozen Tundra. Things have also changed for members of the Packer Ranter Fantasy League;

Jerel "we're not" Worthy

The perennial Ranter League basement dweller never placed higher than 6th, but that doesn't mean the rest of his life wasn't successful. After years of fantasy futility, he took all the knowledge he had gained from losing and designed a fantasy advice and league hosting website for an as yet untapped market. It was a site specifically dedicated to women who love the NFL, but who wanted to escape their condescending, arrogant, and patronizing boyfriends' and husbands' fantasy football leagues. Little tip: there's a lot of them. He. Made. Millions.

Vic Ketchman's Jorts

VKJ had one less year in the Ranter League, but he has more than held his own. It's amazing he has had to manage his squad with the developments in his professional life. VKJ became mayor of Green Bay in 2015, and he has been riding the highest approval rating for a politician ever since. He has tried to retire on multiple occasions, but he keeps getting elected on write-in votes. This barely allows him sufficient time to serve as one half of the planning committee for Throwback Weekend which has grown so large, it is now known as Throwback Week, with Packer fans from around the globe traveling to Green Bay for seven days of camaraderie, consumption, and craziness. It's referred to as the "Woodstock of Sports" and draws thousands of "Throwbackers" each year.

Hot Ham Water

After his wildly successful Super Bowl Shanty Town design, HHW found he had a serious itch to become an urban planner. He studied in Oslo under the famous Dr. Hans von Streegen for seven long years. He has since reimagined and designed many neighborhoods and cities around the world, as well as served as consultant for cities and nations hosting the Olympics and the World Cup. But his crowning achievement came when he approached Mayor Vic Ketchman's Jorts and proposed a new plan for Green Bay and its layout. Having seen his work in other cities...as well as his impressive work in the Ranter League, he immediately acquiesced. The result? A modern city that caters to the millions of Packer fans who visit each year. Public transportation is unmatched to and from Lambeau, green (and gold) spaces have been improved and new ones designed, sufficient and accessible lodging options have been created. The result? Green Bay will be hosting a Super Bowl in 2044. Thanks, HHW, can I get a ticket?

cornOFFdaCOBB and Gay for Clay

This brotherly duo has been fighting collusion claims for years, ever since GfC won the Ranter League's inaugural year. Nothing has ever been proven, even though they have both fared amazingly well year in, and year out. Their ability to cooperate has helped them in becoming the most successful restauranteurs in Wisconsin history. CODC's connections in the Pacific Northwest allowed these two to cheaply import fish to the Cheese State and use it in their ever-growing chain of rural sushi restaurants. They have been successful in bringing this traditional Japanese cuisine to the remote areas of Wisconsin where the only way these Wisconsinites were used to eating fish was on Friday's and covered in fried beer batter (not that there is anything wrong with that). In 2022, they became the official sushi provider of the Green Bay Packers, furthering their presence in the Wisconsin, and national, restaurant scene. They continue to cater the Ranter Fantasy League draft each year to the League's thorough enjoyment.

Easy Street Entourage

A highly successful attorney running his own firm, ESE has also been commissioner of another fantasy football league for 40+ years in addition to his participation in the Ranter Fantasy League. Late nights pouring over draft boards and legal briefs led to an epiphany, there was a way to combine them both. Using his extensive legal knowledge, and his extensive knowledge of how normal people can turn into tremendous asshats when it comes to fantasy football, he began consulting on drafting fantasy football league constitutions, eventually he began billing (an undisclosed amount) for his services. He founded Fantasy Constitutions LLC in 2019, his tagline: "Rules are Rules....even if they're fake". No one knows what his net worth is at present, but he flew the Ranter League members to Rio for their most recent draft.

BeefcakeKnucklejamz 

A fantasy football savant, BCKJ, has been in hundreds of leagues in the past 30 years...having to be coaxed into each because of the stress he endures with each league. Lucky for him, he has a positive outlet for his stress. BCKJ is, of course, the founder and sole proprietor of Beef Cake Knuckle Jamz Gym and Yoga Studio in downtown Green Bay. As word of his unique style and violent outbursts spread, more and more Green Bay residents began to visit BCKJ's gym and studio. They never left. People are drawn to his sweaty, twitchy body and never-ending stream-of-consciousness (fantasy tips are prevalent) during workouts. "He's a legend." "I once said I was too tired, and he carried me around the gym the remainder of the workout....I'll never be too tired again" "I once stretched farther than I ever thought possible when he was my yoga instructor. It was amazing...spiritual even. Is his single?" are just some of the comments you will hear from his members. News soon spread to Coach McCarthy and all Packers are now strongly encouraged to attend BCKJ's workouts and yoga sessions in the offseason. In season, BCKJ can often be found in Ted Thompson's office sharing his extensive football statistical knowledge.

Sundays with Cougars

This is the last known photo of SwC (although he does log in each year for the Ranter Fantasy draft):

Courtesy of The Chive

If anyone has any clue as to SwC whereabouts, please email packerranter@gmail.com.


-Signing off until 2042,

Flea Flicker Draft Advisor

Green Bay Goo or “Hey! You Got Your Cheddar in my Guacamole!”

The magnitude of the statement, “I’m going to the game” is hardly represented by the action of just going to the game itself. It entails the entire experience of gameday – the lodging, driving, walking, cheering, post-win mechanical bull riding at Stadium View (personal fave), and one of the Ranter’s favorite pastimes: tailgating.

Every serious tailgaitor – most Packer fans we know, actually – will generally have one signature food (or drink, or both) represented at their tailgate camp. These items are the perfect match of creativity and edibility. My uncle Orlo’s buffalo chicken meatballs come to mind. Or just last year, we were introduced to @gbpf127’s famous booze-soaked cherries. Now, these specialty foods may take a little TLC to prepare but watching a fellow fan enjoy something you concocted is simply priceless. (You know the clip you want to see, so here you go.)

While desperately raiding the fridge one night after a lengthy pub crawl, inspiration struck in the form of a new dip. Don’t judge me, but all I had in my icebox was a bag of shredded cheese, avocado and some beef sticks (actually, isn’t that like three of the food groups? Niiiice). What else would/could someone with the drunk hungries do but combine them? That’s exactly what I did that fateful night – and have since perfected over the last few weeks.

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s with great pleasure I would like to add to the great tradition of Packer tailgating Green Bay Goo – delicious creamy guacamole and melted cheddar cheese: two great tastes that taste great together.

To make Green Bay Goo, simply dump as much cheese as you can get your hands on into a crock pot. While that’s melting it into a thick, soup-like consistency, prepare your guac like the guac-star you know you are into another bowl. Then ladle out some cheese into a small bowl and then dollop (yes, dollop) some guac on top of that. From there, let your dipping imagination soar. Think pretzels, chips, beef sticks, brats or even eat it with a spoon. You’ll find the combination of textures as well as the contrasting warm and cool temperatures to be simply delightful.

Note: it’s very important not to combine the two until you’re ready to eat. In my trials, this unique combination tastes best in the first few minutes after mixing. Plus, I’ve always found that ladies are into guys with good ladling skills.

I look forward to sampling your own takes on Green Bay Goo, preferably at a tailgate soon...

Training Camp's Finest

After attending my first ever Training Camp practice on Monday, I'd like to bring attention to and salute, a group of people who work tirelessly at all training camp practices. (Also, I just brought attention to the fact that I don't know whether training camp should be capitalized or not.)

Recognition needs to be given to some people, that in all likelihood, go unnoticed year in and year out during the warm summer days and evenings. These are the people in the stylish red vests, the incomparable Guest Relations staff. And while I'm sure the entire group of Guest Relations Specialists do excellent work, even the sullen teenaged kid who mostly ignored us and left us to our own devices; Carolyn and Lynn stood head and shoulders above the rest and were phenomenal facilitators of fan enjoyment and deserve to be aknowledged.

These ladies have a difficult job. They must balance time spent handing out roster cards (with fun and exciting, G-Force word searches on the reverse side) and player face masks. I was fortunate enough to secure a Greg Jennings mask that apparently my dog is deathly afraid of, the only reason I can think of is because Greg Jennings is a bad, bad, man. In addition to the distribution duties, Carolyn and Lynn are tasked with ushering fans to available seats. The skill set involved with this assignment is remarkably similar to Aaron Rodgers finding an open receiver in 2.5 seconds. Their job also includes confronting fans who are pretending to save seats, or are taking up more space than they need with snacks, cameras, binoculars, etc. Both sets of individuals are attempting to avoid eye contact like they are avoiding seeing Medusa. Carolyn and Lynn calmly, but firmly, address these fans and, more often than not, secure available seating for others looking for a spot to park themselves. I watched Carolyn and Lynn stack fans in the bleachers throughout practice, deftly moving people in and out and getting them seated or exited, all while limiting the obstruction of other fans’ viewing. Needless to say, it was impressive.

Upon leaving, I thanked both women, but Carol was busy assisting an elderly gentlemen and Lynn was directing foot traffic to allow a mother with a stroller to leave Nitschke Field. I’m doubtful that either will see this, but I thought I would bestow upon them The Ranter’s highest honor, The Tracy White Certificate of Excellence. Thank you, ladies. You deserve it.

(Also, please tell them thanks if you happen to  see them at one of the remaining practices.)

Sing Along with Jeffrey

I think a fun thing to do on a Thursday is sing along to this and insert, "Jeff" between every "Mr." and "Saturday Night Special".

2.5 Seconds in Heaven

I was trying to work on Friday, but due to uncontainable excitement for the 2012 Packers' season, I ended bumbling around on Twitter following training camp updates. While sifting through the journalist updates and the obligatory fan reaction, I noticed the following tweet from Tyler Dunne at the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel:

New feature inside the Hutson Center beeps and shines lights 2.5 seconds after the snap to encourage quick release. twitter.com/TyDunne/status…
— Tyler Dunne (@TyDunne) July 27, 2012

It seems Mike McCarthy has more than a passing interest in getting his QBs to get rid of the ball before some 300 lb behemoth decides they would like to use them as a landing pad. I'm not sure of your feelings on this, but I completely agree with Mike McCarthy on this point. However, my purpose here is not to point out my instances of agreeing with Coach McCarthy. If that was the case, it would be fairly uninteresting, (it might be anyway) since I tend to side with him on most everything...except the dive play to John Kuhn, but I digress.

Tyler Dunne's tweet actually got me thinking about 2.5 seconds, specifically, what I could do in that time. In true obsessive fashion, I made a list, a list that follows here:

• Eat one small can of Frank's Kraut (undrained).
• List all the Vikings Super Bowl victories.
• Visit any sports betting sites to find the Packers as favorites
• Stand up at Lambeau before someone behind me yells, "Down in front!" or "Sit down!"
• Pay attention to a Bears fan talk about Jay Cutler and/or Brandon Marshall.
• Ride the mechanical bull outside Stadium View...oh wait, that was Robert.
• Shop at the Pro Shop before something is in my basket and I'm yelling THIS.
• Think about Tracy White before I smile a sad, nostalgic smile.
• Type: "Kuuuuuuuuuuuhn!" and hit "Send".
• Listen to someone discuss Brett Favre without thinking about what a cool name Lorenzo is. In fact, it might be the key to the reconciliation everyone is clamoring for. #4 should start referring to himself as Lorenzo, it's hard to be angry at a Lorenzo.
• Read a Detroit police blotter before seeing a Detroit Lion on it.
• Drink enough New Glarus Moon Man to make me forget everything that I had been worrying or upset about. Very small amount needed.
• Listen to someone after they say, "We should start the wave."
• Be awake in Green Bay the day after a Packer game before I think, "What happened last night?"
• Drink a bloody Mary before taking a bite of the pickle.
• Eat 7.5 fresh cheese curds. 12.75 fried cheese curds. (the grease helps them slide down faster)
• Spend time in Kroll's before being transported back in time....not sure to what era, but it's fascinating. I keep expecting to run into Marty and Doc Brown.
• Drive on Highway 29, east or west, before my active brain capacity shuts down and I'm running on auto-pilot.
• Listen to negative fans incessantly complain about the Packers. Life's too short.

Fairly certain, there are many other things I can do in 2.5 seconds, I'll be happy to try them if you feeling like suggesting....I think my insurance is current.

Lambeau Field Seating Proposal

Click on the image to make larger if necessary.

Special thanks to the Oatmeal for providing the inspiration.

Employers: Never Hire Based on Looks Alone

Have you ever been watched while you slept?

Do you receive text message every ten minutes wondering where you are and who you are with?

Have you ever received an unsolicited call from your bank confirming a request for joint checking accounts?

No? Then you’ve probably never gotten involved with your cute intern from Iowa you hired based on those Glamour Shots she sent along with her pink resume. Make sure it stays that way, people.

My lawyer has advised me not to get into the details, but let’s just say I will probably never trust any girl named Shantelle nor will I look at banana pudding the same way again. Until I can recover emotionally and financially, my plans for the nation’s first Telekinesis Camp for Aspiring Jedis and Anyone Else Interested (TCAJAEI) are on hold.

So for now, I’ll be focusing on something that has always brought me joy - the Green Bay Packers. Looking around the internets, I can already tell journalists and bloggers alike have been overlooking some quality Packers material. Be sure to check back once in a while as I’ll try to get to those hidden gems you’ve come to expect from Ranter, including but not limited to, the progression of Tim Masthay’s thigh circumference from puberty to professional (hint: it’s exponential) or the nutrition facts of Stadium View’s cheese curds (not that that’s going to stop anyone from consuming mass quantities!). As always, suggestions are welcome in the comments.

Go Pack and remember: $19.95 doesn’t just buy a background check – it buys peace of mind.

Rise and Prep

After semi to mostly-extensive research, I have come to this indisuputable conclusion...there is nothing on TV on Tuesday nigh....wait. WAIT. WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS THIS BEAUTIFUL PROGRAM?!?!?

"I've given up being socially acceptable."

"Yellowstone Super-Volcano. Total Financial Collapse. Over Population. Government Takeover.  Worldwide Pandemic. Skynet."


Yep, I stumbled upon “Doomsday Preppers” on NatGeo. If you are unfamiliar with this intimate glimpse into the lives of the proud and paranoid Americans who will be our post-apocalyptic overlords, let me try and give a brief overview. Quick and dirty premise: the world is going to collapse, these people are going to survive and be just fine as their preparations for this collapse will allow them to survive and thrive. It's almost as if these people were meant to live in a time and place where no one else had to interact with them...on any level. My apologies, I shouldn't call them "these people", they refer to themselves as "preppers". As near as I can tell, preppers fall into two categories. Individuals who believe that an armory larger than the local National Guard base and faith in God Almighty will save them, and individuals who believe that their solar and wind power-run organic farm will be all they need to live out their days in patchouli-scented peace. There's a third category: individuals diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia recently released from the secure psych ward of their local hospital...I'm fairly certain this category encompasses the two previously mentioned categories.


After each prepper explains the catastrophe they think will end the world, they explain how they have, and are continuing to prepare for it, how they're not crazy, and how their family (really, truly, wholeheartedly) agrees with their chosen lifestyle. Once you get to see their bunker, their bullets, and the car running on nothing but bacon grease and positive vibes, the "experts" give them a score (how they became experts is unclear).


Still reading? Good. You score high on patience. This will be needed when you have to wait for 1,000 years for radiation levels to be safe following a nuclear reactor meltdown.


All this talk of killer monkey hordes learning to talk and taking over the world got me thinking, what have I done to get ready for the apocalypse? It didn't take much time to ponder...I have a bottle of good Scotch and that's about the extent of it. I can most likely trade this for food, or be drunk for the inevitable knock on my door from the T-1000's. Do T-1000's knock? 


Resigned to my fate, I sat down at my desk and started to draw up my Apocalypse Health Care Directive (I'll put one together for you for a modest $49.99). 

"If (when) the birds of Earth go crazy and attack and I am left pecked and clawed but still breathing, smash my head with a brick. Do not waste your ammunition, as you will need it."

...and so it continued well into the night. The events described in the show may happen, but I believe that getting invaded by aliens, attacked by zombies, or machines evolving and using us as batteries is more likely, so I had a lot of writing to do. Personally? The sheer number of documentaries about zombie apocalypses has made me certain this will happen in my lifetime, so the zombie section was easy, if not extensive.

"If bitten, end me. Do not under any circumstances keep me locked up in a barn with other zombies while you wait for a nonexistent cure. Also, if, during the zombie apocalypse, my wife and kid turn out to be evil, soul-sucking trolls, please just let my best friend kill me."

It continued for pages and pages...like I said, extensive.


At some point, I fell asleep at my desk and began to dream about trying to save my Packers stock from a horde of Viking fan undead. It was a vivid dream even if it is often difficult to tell a zombie Viking fan from a living, breathing one. Waking up, I glanced at my Packers share hanging on the wall and had an epiphany. I may not have prepped in the crazy, tin foil hat kind of way, but I was the proud owner of the perfect post-apocolyptic domicile. As an owner of Packers, I hereby stake my claim on Lambeau Field as my doomsday bunker. 


"Franklin, you have no backup food supplies, you lack adequate access to fresh, uncontaminated water, your security measures consist of a six-iron, a frying pan, and a three foot length of 2x4, you currently reside in the middle of Minneapolis, surrounded by Viking fans who will likely not provide support during a catastrophe...

...however...
 ...you were given ownership of the Green Bay Packers as a gift, from someone who obviously is watching out for your well-being. If, during a zombie apocalypse, you hole up in Lambeau Field, you have an excellent chance of survival. Lambeau Field has an enormous supply of food, and if your stay there is indefinite, you will be able to grow crops and raise animals on the field. The number of cold and hot tubs, water bottles, and gatorade jugs means you will have plenty of storage for your water supplies. The security at Lambeau Field is impeccable. Franklin, you are not a zombie whose sole focus is eating brains, and you were unable to breach Lambeau's walls. You will have clear sight lines due to the height of the stadium and the open parking lots surrounding the stadium. A high-powered rifle will allow you to pick off the undead as needed. If you need to venture from the stadium, there is plenty of armor in the form of pads and helmets that will help protect you. I would recommend enlisting the support of Tom Crabtree, as he has a vote of confidence from those close to him in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Also, his Modern Warfare experience and extensive viewing of "The Walking Dead" should increase your chances of survival. If you are able to learn the intricacies of solar and wind energy, you should be able to generate enough electricity to power the HD video screen to watch movies, play video games, and watch Ted Thompson's DII scouting films to gain some distraction from the monotony of the end of the world.


All in all, you will most likely survive the zombie apocalypse in Lambeau Field, however, several others may claim the stadium as their survival bunker. We recommend that you quietly start auditioning these people to determine which will be most beneficial to you while living in Zombieland. This one has promise, but you must do the research on your own."


Those weren't direct quotes from the producers, but I'm sure they wouldn't be far off. I know some of you may also claim ownership, but this post serves as my post-apocalyptic claim. Rest assured, if you send in your proposal as to why you would make an exceptional bunker mate, I will review them all and respond in a timely fashion. Extra consideration will be given to those who can make cheese or beer. Bears or Vikings fans need not apply. 


Oh, one more thing, you have to like R.E.M.

Hello, I'm Frank. Remember me?

I believe it is said that you learn things about yourself in times of hardship.  That may be true, but then the flip-side should is also true: you learn things about yourself in times of prosperity. I would hazard a guess that most people would consider a Super Bowl victory and subsequent 15-1 season to be a time of relative prosperity...probably not even relative prosperity, just flat-out swim around in your money-bin, dance-of-joy, golden ticket prosperity. 

You know what I learned in this new age of Packers’ prosperity?  

Prosperity makes me soft.

As you’re aware...or maybe not...probably not, actually. The number of posts around this joint started decreasing, my vitriol towards moronic Bears and Vikings fans faded, and I started viewing things through a very fashionable set of rose-colored glasses over the last year. My discussions about the Packers were void of passion, my email debates were forced and lacked conviction. After all, what did I really have to debate? The Packers were clearly the best team in the league, I felt no need to point out flaws or analyze potential chinks in the level 35 Armor of Invincibility (+20 Ranged Offense, -15 Ranged Resistance). The Chiefs loss bothered me, but it was more the “Huh. I’m Kind of Bummed Out This Week, But It Will Be Resolved Come Sunday” kind of feeling. Lo and behold, it was resolved. I’m a damn prophet. What is there to get worked up about when even with Matt Flynn at the helm, the Packers turned in a win when Flynn decided to write his own paycheck for the this year.

Then something happened that should have woken me up....Oh, the Packers got smacked around by the Giants? Oh. Well, that’s too bad, but they had a great season, and they won it last year.  Can’t be too upset. There’s always next year.  They’re a great, young team, they’ll be fine next year.

Ummm...what?!?!

Never in my life would I have predicted thoughts like this would enter my mind let alone be verbalized to others...like I said, SOFT. Soft like this, and this, and this.

I am Franklin’s walking shame bucket.

You know what happens when you go soft? You wake up one day and realize that your fellow Ranter with the fabulous hair has vacated the premises (although he left me three red bulls in the mini fridge, so that was nice...or maybe just forgetful), one of your favorite Packers of all time has traded in his cleats (temporarily) for tap shoes, and a neighbor has hit the bigtime. 

Wow. A lot has changed.

Moving forward, I vow that this softness and apathy will not happen again...okay, I strongly believe that this won’t happen again...okay, I can promise you that my vitriol towards Vikings and Bears fan will never lessen again, but the whole lack of posts thing may be recurring, especially since Robert found an exit and made it back to Zion without me. Also, the rose-colored glasses will probably persist, if for no other reason than I find it tiresome to always be angry at the teams I cheer for. How do people do that? They've got to be miserable.

Anyway, I’ve already got two new posts queued up, so maybe you can be entertained for 3-4 minutes...then again, maybe not.

I think Fast Eddie Felson said it best:

Catch You on the Flip Side

“I will always love you,” was sung Dolly Parton and later Whitney Houston in truly various forms. Dolly’s version was poetic, beautiful and truly heartfelt and then Whitney and her neverending lungfulls of ear-aching commercial stank blasts came along and ruined the song for a lot – a LOT – of people, damnit.

 And while you can’t hear it, I now sing those lyrics to you – hopefully with more Dolly than diva. After some deliberation, more beers and several more nights in my GOIBER, I’ve decided to take a leave of absence from the Ranter. This has nothing to do with the Packers recent outcome and everything to do with my desire to focus my attention starting the nation’s first Telekinesis Camp for Aspiring Jedis and Anyone Else Interested (website coming soon!) or something else totally unrelated.

Rest assured the Ranter is in good hands with co-founder, Editor-in-Cheese and Tracy White fanatic, Franklin Hillside. While you might not want to bank on a rush of new Rants, you can find Franklin working the Twitters just about every day as he has done from the start. And if you want more Ranter or Robert, just read the archives (hey, that's alliterative - nice). I’ll see ya when I see ya. Go Pack! ~Robert

You Like Apples?

Robert and I have a good buddy from grade school who works for the Packers.  He’s a part-time intern for the assistant to the advisor to quarterbacks coach Tom Clements.  Pretty lofty position if you ask me. I’d like to say that he has extensive knowledge of the offense and of the QB position itself, and that this knowledge got him the job. I’d like to say that. In reality, he got the job because in grade school he was able to pen long, extensive love notes (in code so the teacher could never read to the class,mind you) on 4x6 notecards. You’ve never seen such a Lothario. While this doesn’t seem like it would transfer to working for an NFL franchise, you’d be wrong. He’s perfect for putting together those little QB wristbands that have plays and formations on them. It’s remarkable how well he has fit into this position, and his flexible hours with the Packers let him continue to work his dream job as the key-maker at the ACE Hardware.

Anyway, as he was fitting Graham Harrell for a custom, two-tone wristband complete with the non-screen, screen play that Matt Flynn threw against the Lions on it, he overheard Aaron Rodgers and Matt Flynn having the conversation below. For those wondering about the fate of #10, it seems like Flynn is very happy and might want to stay in Green Bay next year after all:

Flynn: What do I wanna way outta here for? I'm gonna live in Green Bay the rest of my {expletive deleted} life. We'll be neighbors, have little kids, take 'em to Little League up at Optimist Field.

Rodgers: Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way but, next year if you're still livin' here, comin' over to my house, watchin' game film, workin' as my backup, I'll {expletive deleted} kill ya. That's not a threat, that's a fact, I'll {expletive deleted} kill ya.

Flynn: What the {expletive deleted} you talkin' about?

Rodgers: You got somethin' none of these other clowns have...

Flynn: Oh, come on! What? Why is it always this? I mean, I {expletive deleted} owe it to myself to do this or that. What if I don't want to?

Rodgers: No. No, no no no. {expletive deleted} you, you don't owe it to yourself man, you owe it to football fans. Cuz tomorrow I'm gonna wake up, and I'll have started 10 straight seasons, and I'll still be dominating this league. And that's all right. That's fine. I mean, you're sittin' on a winnin' lottery ticket. And you're too comfortable here in Green Bay to cash it in, and that's {expletive deleted}. 'Cause Caleb Hanie’d do {expletive deleted} anything to have what you got. So would Curtis Painter, Rex Grossman, Mark Sanchez, any of these {expletive deleted} guys. It'd be an insult to them if you're still here next year. Hangin' around the Hutson Center is a {expletive deleted} waste of your time.

I have to be honest, after hearing this, if I was Flynn, I’d pack up my things and be ready to start somewhere the day free agency starts. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. I’d just leave. I don’t know much, but I know that.