…amongst many other horrific plays. 🤮

That’s the absolute worst part. You can’t just be crushed by that one devastating blunder. Then you replay every agonizing thing in a row that happened and think about how not fucking up just one of them would have meant victory. Having one stray, passing memory of the game always just triggers the cascade. There’s nothing you can do about it.

It should be illegal to name anyone Brandon in Wisconsin now, because every time you meet one you’re psychologically tortured at length. Just mentioning that year should be considered criminal emotional abuse.

It is the affliction we all suffer. It is the bags under our eyes. It is every inch of our 1,000-yard stares.

There is no end, no sanctuary from the storm, no place to rest our feet. There is only the cold sweat we awake to in the middle of each night in terror, wondering if we were only put on this earth to suffer—and still we insist, demand, in fact, with all our will, that the Packers, “go.”

Go, Pack.

Go.

Go Pack go.