November 27th, 1986, was a significant day in my young life. I had just celebrated my 6th birthday and I was beginning to love football. It was Thanksgiving Day and traditionally my family was supposed to celebrate the holiday at my Grandparents’ house. But in a very unique way, fate interviened.
Freezing rain fell gently as my family began to trek the 40 miles down the highway in Upstate NY to my relatives’ home. Shortly into the trip though, my dad lost control of our stationwagon, and we went spinning into a ditch. The damage was minimal, and no one was hurt at all. But as you could imagine, my parents decided not to tempt fate by continuing, and we returned home.
The unlikely situation of the accident gave my dad and I no other choice but to watch football all day. The first game of the day pitted the mediocre Detroit Lions (5-7) hosting the ‘rebuilding’ Green Bay Packers (2-10). The game meant absolutely nothing. But as John Madden said, if you can’t get excited about playing on Thanksgiving, you can’t get excited. And being just six, team records meant nothing to me.
And I saw something special in the green and gold on that day.
The game started omniously for the Pack, falling behind 10-0 early. But they fought back, scoring on a blocked punt, and playing some spirited football. I was sold and soon starting cheering loudly for the Pack. Randy Wright had mostly likely his best game as a pro, frequently finding another Packer who had the game of his life; Walter Stanley. Stanley was mostly known for his punt returns, but made waves as receiver as well on this day. After catching a second quarter TD, Stanley’s celebration—described by Pat Summerall as a taste of Hawaii—would make Terrell Owens proud.
The Pack fought hard, but found themselves fighting to get the ball back with under a minute left, down 40-37. Aided by a third-down penalty that stopped the clocked, the Packers were going to get one more shot. I can remember being distraught, maybe even crying because the Packers were losing. My dad told me to hang in there. As Jim Arnold punted away, Stanley fielded the ball at his own 17. Later he would admit that he was supposed to conserve time and make a fair catch. But Forrest Gregg was unaware of the fate involved in this finish. Stanley started left, slammed on the breaks, and reversed his field. He got some great seal blocks and turned the corner. Arnold was the only man to beat, and he had no chance to destroy the fate as well. Stanley returned the punt 83 yards, and the Packers beat the Lions 44-40. You could see Gregg lip an emphatic ‘holy s*it’ on the sideline. Icelebrated the Packers’ third win of the season as if they’d won the big one.
The rest is history. I have been a Packer fan ever since. People ask me all the time if I’m from Wisconsin and thus a Packer fan. I tell them no, and give them a general response to my Packer backing. The elaborate reason involved a fateful Thanksgiving Day, the 17th anniversary of which was celebrated by the same two teams this past Thanksgiving. And although the same magic couldn’t be recreated last Thursday, I still gave thanks. Thanks to Walter Stanley and the rest of the forgotten 1986 Packers on that dayfor helping to give me a 17-year relationship with the greatest sports franchise to cheer for in the world.
