Football Oracle

Define Oracle: According to Merriam-Webster, “2 a: a person giving wise or authoritative decisions or opinions.” I am a self-declared football oracle.
I love football, especially the Nation League Football games. Our family lived in Madison, Wisconsin, when I was young, so it was only natural that I would be a Green Bay Packers fan. Not to sound old, but Bart Starr was the quarterback, and their coach? The famous Vince Lombardi. I was jealous of my friend John, who had a green and gold #15 jersey. I also remember when the big sporting news was that the AFL and the NFL would merge. (Whatever that meant.) At ten years old, I didn’t really understand the game, but I learned more as time went on. 
I first played flag football in gym at Washington Junior High School. Man, I was fast. Whenever I got the ball, I ran it all the way into the end zone every time, and yet, I never scored a point. Apparently, when the opposing team tore my Velcro flag away, the play was over. 
By high school, I wanted to on play on the Junior Varsity team. “You’re too small,” Coach Clement said. “You’d should go out for track, or wrestling.” But those didn’t interest me. Not being able to play football, my focus turned to motorcycles, cars, girls, and a job at Pizza Hut to pay for all three. I lost interest in football, until 1983. 
My dog Harry and I were on a motorcycle trip to Colorado. Coming down from a snowy mountain top, I was listening to News Radio 85, KOA; home of the Denver Broncos. The announcers were talking about the new quarterback, John Elway. He was surrounded by controversary as he refused to play for the Baltimore Colts, so they traded him to the Broncos. It was his debut game at Mile High Stadium. To make a long story short, I ended up going to that game.
It was the first time I’d been inside an NFL stadium. The air smelled different, the field was greener than I’d ever seen on television, and there was vibe, an excitement about the fans. I was hooked on NFL Football, and the Denver Broncos would be my team. They still are over forty years later. (Although, I still have a soft spot in my heart for the Packers, it’s not soft enough to feel bad when the Broncos beat the Packers in Superbowl XXXII.) Being a Broncos fan wasn’t always easy; they had some rough seasons.
In 1990 my Broncos would be facing the San Francisco 49ers in Superbowl XXIV. Mom and I were supposed to be in Lincoln, Nebraska, for computer training on Superbowl Monday. We got to our hotel room on Sunday, in plenty of time for the game. We had pizza delivered, and plenty of snacks for the game – but no beers. I had to be sharp the next morning for training. As the game went on, things continued to get worse.
Mom, not understanding the game, had a lot of questions: “Why do they all keep picking on #7? He seems like a nice boy, but they keep knocking him down.” And “Why aren’t some of the other guys in orange shirts helping #7? Aren’t they on the same team.” 
I pleaded with my mother, “Mom! Please! No more questions. Just stop talking!”  
Her questions continued all the way until the end of the game. “Is the game over? Did the Broncos win? Is 55-10 a bad score?” It was the worst score in Superbowl history and Denver still holds the record today. As a matter of fact, the Broncos hold three of the top five worst beatings in Superbowl history. Like I said, it’s not always easy being a Broncos fan. But still, win or lose, a real fan supports their team, and I am a Denver Broncos fan; although, I do not bet on them, or any NFL games.
October 17, 1994, I bet my friend Doug that the Broncos would pummel the Chiefs at Mile High Stadium, on Monday Night Football. This was during Marty Schottenheimer’s era, when it seemed he just couldn’t beat John Elway and the Broncos. But for the love of me, the Chiefs came from behind and beat the Broncos at home. (Although, they kind of cheated to do so.)
The 49ers traded Joe Montana to the Chiefs. You remember Joe Montana? The QB who handed John Elway the worst Superbowl beating in history just four years before. I still get shivers just thinking about it. I went to give Doug the dollar I lost in the bet, but he would take the money. 
“If I remember correctly,” Doug said, “The bet was for 69¢ to be paid in exact change and the loser has to pay on his knees and admit defeat.” Boy that was an ugly loss for me. I never bet money on another football game, but it wasn’t the first time I placed bets with ridiculous stipulations. (I’m a slow learner.)
My younger brother Newell is also loyal to his long-time team, the Dallas Cowboys. (Where did I go wrong in raising him?) In 1993 the Cowboys beat the Buffalo Bills in Superbowl XXVII. The same two teams would meet again in Superbowl XXVIII. There was no way the Bills would lose to the Cowboys, two years in a row – let alone to lose four consecutive Superbowl games. But they did.
Tuesday following the game, Newell showed up at the Easter Foods Deli, with a shaving kit. He shaved off one-half of my moustache. The loser had to wear the half-stache the whole workday, until 5:00. 
Hey, if I lose a bet, I’ll pay up – but did he really have to come to the grocery store deli and publicly steal half my moustache? The little creep even called a local newspaper and had them there to cover the story. I haven’t placed a bet on football ever since. But it certainly hasn’t stopped me from talking trash. Smack talk is half the fun of football.
I’ll admit, I took an NFL hiatus for a few years. In 2024 Denver drafted Bo Nix as quarterback and I watched a few of his games, but I felt lost. Did the NFL add more expansion teams? Who were the Washington Commanders? Why isn’t the kicking team running with the ball on kick offs? Since when does a touchback come out to the 30-yard line. I guess a few things changed in the league during my absence. But one thing didn’t change: me, talking football smack, which is easy to do since my Broncos are first seed in the AFC Playoffs!
Last Saturday, was Wildcard Weekend, and I picked my teams to win, but placed no bets. I was torn. The Green Bay Packers and Chicago Bears, who share football's oldest rivalry, would play at Soldier Field on Saturday night. I still have a soft spot for the Packers, but my best friend Stuart is a life-long Bears fan. I picked the Bears to win because I didn’t think the Packers could beat them at home, and because Stu is a lot bigger than me and can beat me up. Go Bears!
I had a lot of errands to run in Duluth before the game. As long as I was in the twin ports, I decided to go to mass at Cathedral of Christ the King; I went to confession before mass: “Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it’s been three weeks since my last confession.” I told the priest my sins. He gave me my penance and absolution, so the sacrament of reconciliation was complete. 
“Oh, there is one other thing, Father.” He asked me what it was. “I want to make sure I have my facts straight; you were born in Wisconsin and raised on cheese, right?”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I picked the Bears to win tonight.” Father was silent for a moment, then I asked, “Am I still in good standing to receive Holy Communion tonight.” He laughed and said that I was, adding a funny comment. Then I said, “I was worried you would give me extra penance. If you were going to give me an extra Hail Mary, I was going to suggest you save it for the Packer’s tonight. They might need it.” 
“Yeah, we’ll see about that come Monday,” Father said. We shared a good laugh about that. 
I planned to bake cookies during the game Saturday and would take them to Father on Sunday morning. The game went back and forth and quite exciting all the way to the very end. I actually got distracted and burned the last batch.
On Sunday, I took a gift bag for Father to church with me. “I was going to call these consolation cookies; they have medicinal powers to heal your football woes. But after the Packers were smoking the Bears in the first half, I decided they would be concession speech cookies, admitting defeat. But then, the Bears came back to win the game.” I went on to say, “I didn’t like the Bears fans chanting, ‘Green Bay Sucks.’ I mean, couldn’t they just celebrate their victory without bad mouthing the other team?”
“Well, that’s the way football is,” Father said. I was glad for his good sportsmanship demeanor.
“I brought you a peace offering from the Bears fans. I couldn’t find any figs leaves, so I brought you these,” I said as I handed him a package of Fig Newton Cookies.” He smiled. Then I handed him a package of shredded cheese, “This is from the Chicago Bears. But don’t worry, The Packers are still a good solid, team,” I said. “They’ll be back next year as solid as this block of cheese.” (I handed him a block of extra sharp, cheddar cheese.)
“Thomas,” the good padre said. “You are bad!” 
“Well at least I brought Crystal Farms cheese, which is made ion Wisconsin.” We shared a good laugh about it all, then I gave him a bag of my homemade Ginger Crack cookies. 
I do love football fodder, but why do I call myself a self-proclaimed football oracle? Remember, on Saturday night, I told the priest, “If you’re going to give me an extra Hail Mary, you may want to save it for the Packers. They’ll probably need it.” 
Well, in the fourth quarter, with seven seconds on the clock, the Packers need a touchdown to win. It all came down to this final play. The ball was hiked; Love (the QB) dropped the ball! He managed to pick it up and scramble around avoiding the defense. The clock ran out, but the play was still alive. The end zone was full of Bears and Packers. Finally, Love launched the ball into the end zone – a Hail Mary pass! Unfortunately for the Packers, Kyler Gordan deflected the pass to the ground, ending the game, and the Bears advanced in the playoffs.
I’ve been laughing about my prediction ever since. Poking a Bear is one thing, (pun intended) but maybe I should be careful poking fun at a priest; he has connections much higher than even the NFL Commissioner himself.